#half people working at the country club / half people their with their families

[great-and-small]

When I was in vet school I went to this one lecture that I will never forget. Various clubs would have different guest lecturers come in to talk about relevant topics and since I was in the Wildlife Disease Association club I naturally attended all the wildlife and conservation discussions. Well on this particular occasion, the speakers started off telling us they had been working on a project involving the conservation of lemurs in Madagascar. Lemurs exist only in Madagascar, and they are in real trouble; they’re considered the most endangered group of mammals on Earth. This team of veterinarians was initially assembled to address threats to lemur health and work on conservation solutions to try and save as many lemur species from extinction as possible. As they explored the most present dangers to lemurs they found that although habitat loss was the primary problem for these vulnerable animals, predation by humans was a significant cause of losses as well. The vets realized it was crucial for the hunting of lemurs by native people to stop, but of course this is not so simple a problem.

The local Malagasy people are dealing with extreme poverty and food insecurity, with nearly half of children under five years old suffering from chronic malnutrition. The local people have always subsisted on hunting wildlife for food, and as Madagascar’s wildlife population declines, the people who rely on so-called bushmeat to survive are struggling more and more. People are literally starving.

Our conservation team thought about this a lot. They had initially intended to focus efforts on education but came to understand that this is not an issue arising from a lack of knowledge. For these people it is a question of survival. It doesn’t matter how many times a foreigner tells you not to eat an animal you’ve hunted your entire life, if your child is starving you are going to do everything in your power to keep your family alive.

So the vets changed course. Rather than focus efforts on simply teaching people about lemurs, they decided to try and use veterinary medicine to reduce the underlying issue of food insecurity. They supposed that if a reliable protein source could be introduced for the people who needed it, the dependence on meat from wildlife would greatly decrease. So they got to work establishing new flocks of chickens in the most at-risk communities, and also initiated an aggressive vaccination program for Newcastle disease (an infectious illness of poultry that is of particular concern in this area). They worked with over 600 households to ensure appropriate husbandry and vaccination for every flock, and soon found these communities were being transformed by the introduction of a steady protein source. Families with a healthy flock of chickens were far less likely to hunt wild animals like lemurs, and fewer kids went hungry. Thats what we call a win-win situation.

This chicken vaccine program became just one small part of an amazing conservation outreach initiative in Madagascar that puts local people at the center of everything they do. Helping these vulnerable communities of people helps similarly vulnerable wildlife, always. If we go into a country guns-blazing with that fire for conservation in our hearts and a plan to save native animals, we simply cannot ignore the humans who live around them. Doing so is counterintuitive to creating an effective plan because whether we recognize it or not, humans and animals are inextricably linked in many ways. A true conservation success story is one that doesn’t leave needy humans in its wake, and that is why I think this particular story has stuck with me for so long.

(Source 1)

(Source 2- cool video exploring this initiative from some folks involved)

(Source 3)

[reignpage]

Vice President!Sukuna

Pétain: losing it all pt 2

Word count: 3.3k Contents: cursing, alcohol use, angst, triggering, flashback to The Night, from reader's perspective

This is it. 

This is the culmination of everything you’ve ever done in your entire life. All the late nights, the volunteering work, the part time jobs, the internships, the extra credit, all the clubs anyone could possibly do crammed into your schedule for years. Every friend you’ve lost, every teacher’s ass you’ve kissed, and every tear you’ve shred. None of it you regret. 

Here, at Eden University, the top university in the country. Standing among the sons and daughters of the wealthiest, most successful families in the world, the best and the brightest, future leaders, record breakers, record setters, industry changing individuals. You’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted; you’ve got a scholarship to back you.

And now, it’s time to celebrate. 

“Y/n, come on!” 

Penny beckons you over, shaking her hair with a wide grin. She’s your friend, your bestest friend. And you came to EdenU with her. Wild and carefree, you two are opposites, but you’ve been stuck together like glue since you were in diapers. Insisting that you catch up on lost time, she’s made a pact with you. 

You’re going to lose your virginity tonight. 

Your alcohol, party, kiss, and of course, sexual virginities.

All things she swore eighteen-year-olds needed to have lost before entering university. You’re not convinced that’s true, but the idea does sound good. Losing everything that was holding you back from being just like everyone else and starting fresh on equal footing with your new peers. 

That’s tonight’s plan. 

With a giggle, you let her lead you into the middle of the dance floor. Club Lilith is packed; every freshman, both EdenU and non-EdenU students, filling the underground nightclub. Body to body, you’re being pushed back and forth and side to side, like waves crashing at you from all sides. The music is loud, and you can’t make out the lyrics, can only feel the beats thumping through your chest, piercing you with the bass. It’s exhilarating, to be moved by external forces and to go with the flow, to be untethered for one night. 

You start to understand why Penny did it all the time whilst you were in the library. 

Swaying, you both grip each other’s hips and waist, partially from a desire to let loose together, and to keep afloat amongst the crowd. Your cheeks are aching from smiling so much and so widely, giggling as she bops her head like a rockstar. 

But then she spots something above you.

“Oh my god, look!” She screams in your ear. “It’s Gojo! And he’s with Sukuna and Geto.”

There’s only one name you recognise, and it wasn’t ‘Gojo’ or ‘Geto’. You have no idea who they are and why she’s screeching in your ear about them. The three people are standing on the second floor, leaning against the railing as they half converse together, and half watch the people. Suddenly, you’re being pulled again, this time away from the dance floor. The crowd doesn’t part, the people become steel walls, all rigid and fixed, and you both have to dig your elbows for leverage. 

“This is your chance to get with Sukuna, come on!”

As you both make your way upstairs, with Penny flashing her family’s name at the security guard, you gulp. Having been no stranger to the world of politics, you recognised Sukuna immediately. You saw him at the induction day, sat just metres away from you as he eyed the hall with mild interest. 

His family is Old Money, having been there at the very founding of the country, building every foundation and infrastructure with their bare hands, and continuing to do as leaders of the political regime. Ryomen is a world-famous name with a world-famous empire to back it up. And their one, and only, son?

He’s fucking hot. 

And you hate that you find him attractive. You aren’t the type to get all nervous around a guy, they’re just boys, after all. But he might just be the first person you’ve ever had a crush on in your entire life. You hope he likes you.

“Gojo, hey, babe,” Penny squeals, jumping into a slightly surprised white-haired man. He returns the hug and introduces her to everyone as a family friend. 

You stand there awkwardly, waving at the girls sipping champagne, and at the guys who eye both you and your friend. Walking over to Penny who’s chatting excitedly to Gojo, recapping her summer, you smile at Sukuna and, who you’ve deduced as being, Geto.

The latter returns a polite smile and the former quirks one corner of his lip, his own version of a greeting, you’ve gathered. Up close, he’s even better looking; his hair is a pastel pink, he has broad shoulders, and his skin is flawless. 

You wonder if he tastes just as dangerous as he looks. 

Rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, you try to make conversation, “So what are you guys studying?”

With a scoff, Sukuna stalks off. 

Your cheeks start heating up.

“Don’t mind him,” Geto sighs, “he just doesn’t like crowds or strangers.”

Then why is he at a club on the busiest night?

That’s one of those thoughts you keep to yourself, so you nod. You make idle chit chat with the long haired man; he's sweet, polite and gentlemanly. You could see yourself losing everything tonight, with him, and you know he'd take care of you. But, somewhere in the back of your mind, you're aware your attraction is surface-level. There's something he wouldn't be able to give, something deep inside of you that can't be scratched. It's dark and sinister and you're ashamed.

Your friend and Gojo are laughing, talking about some family event they had to go to, and you kind of feel bad for how touchy she's being, though she's like that to everyone. She hugs his arm, squeezing it between her breasts as she slurs her words. The man only laughs and pats her on her head.

Eventually, appearing satisfied with the last ten minutes, Penny’s grabbing your arm and cheering. “Okay, let’s go dance again.”

Apparently, all she wanted was to make her presence known to Gojo. You say goodbye to everyone, even though their attentions already shifted to a couple making out in the corner, cheering them on. And you both return to the dance floor.

Another hour passes, well, it could have been ten hours, it’s hard to tell. There are no windows nor clocks, and the crowd isn’t waning. But despite how unnatural it is for you, you continue to dance, rocking to the music, and ignoring the ache in your chest that manifested after being shrugged off by your first ever crush.

This is everything you've ever wanted, all at your fingertips. The soothing coolness of alcohol lifting you higher and higher as you grind on a random man, his hands all over your body in a way you don't really hate. And you're elated, grinning at Penny who's fluffing her hair as she lets a guy kiss her neck.

You've talked about this night for so long, going over all the wild and crazy things you'd do now that you're unburdened by responsibilities. It feels incredibly surreal to be here, with everyone regarding you as a peer as they grin back at you, finding your body just as attractive as you find them.

Soon, the lack of fresh air gets to you, so you excuse yourself to step out for a second. Penny pouts but once a hot guy steps into her line of view, she lets you go without complaint. 

Ascending the stairs and fidgeting with your wristband, you’re shocked to find that it’s still night. It’s as if time passes differently down there. But the cool air feels good on your flushed skin, and you feel light again. Partying is cathartic, for sure, but it’s also quite exhausting. The makeup and the tight clothes took up so much time and energy that you really didn’t think you’d have energy at all to dance, and yet you found it. 

“Y/n, right?”

You jolt. 

Sukuna’s leaning against the brick wall, one foot bent. He’s got a cigarette between his fingers and a hand in his pocket. You frown a little — he’s addressing you, but his gaze is set in the distance, at a flickering streetlight. 

Clearing your throat, you answer, “Yeah.”

He nods.

A silence befalls you and you’re both standing side by side, careful not to touch, watching the lights, feeling the muted thumping of the music against your back. Your heart is beating pretty fast, and you don’t mind just staying here, listening to him inhale and then exhale the smoke. 

But when your pinkie twitches and it brushes against his, a bolt of electricity runs through your body. You both glance at each other, looking away just as quickly. 

When had he even taken his hand out of his pocket?

Flustered, you stammer, “I’m a law student.”

Slowly, he raises a brow, and repeats, “Law student?”

“Yep,” you pop your lips, “top of my class. Perfect grades.” The alcohol is not doing you any favours, it’s making you loose lipped, tearing down your inhibitions, and silencing that voice at the back of your head telling you it’s impolite, and shameless, to brag. 

Sukuna doesn’t look impressed. In fact, his expression doesn’t change, not even with a flicker. “That a big achievement for you?”

His tone is patronising, completely condescending, like you’re a little dog he’s rubbing the belly of. Your eye twitches. He’s still not looking at you. How could he possibly just shrug you off like you’re not worth looking at? Sure, he’s rich, but what does that matter when you’re all in the same place, with the exact same opportunities in front of you. 

“As opposed to getting here with your daddy’s money?” You fire back.

The temperature drops. You feel it. It’s the palpable tension, the one that pricks the back of your neck in warning, that tells you to apologise, to bow your head, present your neck in submission or run away. Gulping, you clench your fist, willing the anxiety to go away.

“What the fuck do you know about me?” Sukuna’s voice has dropped an octave, digging deeper than before, deeper than you thought possible. He’s turned his head towards you now, you definitely have his attention. Dark and raging, his eyes pierce through you, and it’s like he’s scouring your soul for weaknesses. “Oh, I see. Little Perfect Missy thinks she has a right to stomp her feet, yes? Why? Because you have a scholarship?”

“How- “

He scoffs, right in your face, and his smoke fans your face. “You reek the smell of a scholarship student. You think just ‘cause you have good grades that puts you on equal footing to me? And maybe even to your little friend?”

“Leave her out of this,” you hiss through gritted teeth. 

Tilting his head, he scans your body, and you wish he had never acknowledged your presence. With a lofty tone, he presses, “Which one are you? A Gojo Foundation kid? No, you would have been more impressed to meet the white-haired freak. You’re not one of mine, either, otherwise you wouldn’t dare speak to me like that. You must be an Adamson.”

Something must have flashed in your eyes because then he’s laughing. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He flashes you his pearly white teeth, razor sharp and glinting under the warm streetlights. “And you have no idea about anything at all.”

“Fuck you,” is all you manage. 

The corner of his mouth quirks up, then he’s softening his body, shoulders slouching, and he leans over to you. You try to step back but he grabs your waist with a firm hand. He smells good, he feels good, and you hate it. Hate it so much because you shouldn’t still find him the most beautiful man in all of Eden. 

“Is that what you want?” He squeezes your waist, and you have to bite back a sharp breath. “You want to be fucked? I bet you’re nervous, hmm? New to all of this. Bet you’re someone who never stepped one foot out of line, all so you could be here, and now that you are, you want a taste of freedom.”

Are you so easy to read? 

Is that what everyone sees when they look at you? 

A meek little girl who wants to be just like everyone else?

“Leave me alone,” you mumble weakly. It has no real strength, no real authority. Because he was right on the money; you want to taste what liberation feels like, and right now, as your chest presses to his and you feel the hard outline of his torso, you realise you want to taste the freedom he’s offering. 

It’s just for one night, one bad decision, one mistake — you’re allowed, you’ve worked hard your entire life, you should be able to have regrets. And this mistake is too damn good to let go. 

“Meet me in Room 2, tell the bouncer you’re a Vessel, they’ll know what it means. Come in 10 minutes.” He snaps his teeth at you and his eyes twinkle at your flinch. “Don’t be late.”

And then he’s gone. 

Sukuna’s retreated into the depths of Lilith, leaving you reeling in the streets, feeling as if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. But that one moment where he looked at you, really looked at you, set your blood ablaze; you're breathless, feeling adrenaline rushing your body. It was a taste of what you could have, and you want more. 

So you head back down, deeper and deeper into the belly of the she-beast, and you push your way through the crowd. You’re being bumped left and right, and they constrict you with pulsing grooves until you’re getting lost in the music. Searching all around, you try to find any familiar face, and see only the blur of euphoric expressions, heads thrown back, eyes closed, and mouths parted. 

Emerging into the hallway, you stumble onto the wall, gripping the smooth surface with clammy hands; the vodka in your system is slurring your movements and you’re lightheaded, delirious from the pull urging you forward. You do as Sukuna say, you meet a bouncer —bald, tall, big and mean — you tell him you’re a ‘Vessel’, stumbling with the word as if it’s foreign, and he lets you pass without even a cursory glance. 

Stretching your skirt further down your thighs, you scan the hallway; long, narrow, and dark, it feels wrong to be here. There are only a few lights above, leaking dim red hues, barely enough to see what lies ahead, but you push through. You don’t know what you’re expecting, this is new to you — but you’ve been shaved and waxed and perfumed to the maximum; Penny insisted. And you’re giggling at the supple feel of your own body, still a little raw from all the scrubbing. 

Would he hate that you’re inexperienced? Would he be disgusted by your clumsiness? Maybe he, himself, isn’t a very good lover. Would he expect you to do all the work? 

To your right, you find Room 2, it’s a door so black you almost missed it; it blends into the shadows. But the golden number is hard to miss, and you know you’re at the right place. 

Wiping your hands down your skirt, you exhale, and then you twist the door open. 

Your heart drops. 

Right in front of you is the bare back of a naked girl, she’s throwing her head back in pleasure, bouncing up and down. The sounds of pleasure echo in the room, and your voice is stuck in your throat; you know this girl. She’s been the person that braided your hair, that curled your lashes, that spun you around and cheered. The one on the front row of every play, every debate, every award. A girl who held your hand when you fell and scraped your knee at 6, and again when your dad left at 12. 

“Tell me more about your friend,” a deep voice breathes out.

“Y/n?” The girl clarifies, she’s panting, a little confusion lacing her words as she continues her gyrations. “What is there to say? She’s boring.”

“She didn’t look boring.”

The sound of her laughter penetrates your chest like a dagger digging its way into your heart and when she says, “Trust me, she is. All she does is study and yet she couldn’t get into Eden by herself,” you feel the dagger’s hilt twist. 

You reel back like you’ve been slapped.

She continues, still bouncing, still moaning, “Yeah, had to get my dad to talk -ha- to the Dean, they’re -fuck!- long time golf buddies. Oh, that’s so good! Right there, yes! He -fuuuuck- gave her a scholarship so she’ll feel better about herself.”

Sitting up, the man grips her waist and kisses her neck. His eyes meet yours. His stare burns and your eyes are watering, a bead of sweat dripping down your forehead. There’s a blazing heat in his gaze, not one borne from pleasure but from a sick satisfaction. You’re going to throw up. 

“You do that often?” His eyes aren’t leaving yours, he’s watching for every single twitch of your brow, every flutter of your lashes, and narrows his gaze on the quiver of your bottom lip. “You have to make her feel better?”

“Fuck! Yes, Sukuna, right there, baby!” She digs her hands into his scalp, clutching him close as she seeks out her release. “I always have -ngh- to make her feel better. Daddy says she’s going to be -yesssss- somebody someday so I need her for connections.”

Then she's laughing. It's the kind you've never heard her use. No. You have. Just never at you.

"She didn't know Adamson's my dad's name. Everyone else -ha- knows who I am but she's never bothered to care. So good! God, she thinks we're actually on the same level. It's pathetic."

The bile is rising from your throat and the urge is overwhelming. Your blood has run cold and you’re stumbling back out, tripping over your own feet as you clutch your stomach, trying to find your way back out. You wind up back at the dance floor and there’s somehow even more people in here, jumping, grinding, gyrating. The beat is blaring, thumping and thudding, and the crowd sways in waves, pulsing as they surround you. 

Spinning, your vision is spinning. And the flashing lights is blinding, disorientating, you're losing your mind. You have no idea where the exit is, where you are, who you are. You're going to throw up.

“Let me out,” you don’t know if you scream or whisper that. “Please.”

You’re gasping, clawing your hands wherever they can gain purchase. The crowd doesn’t let up, they tighten around you, squeezing every breath away, and their skin is sticky, dampening your clothes with a mix of things you don’t want to think about. You need to get out of here. 

“I want to go home, please.” 

You’re crying. There’s no doubt about it, there are tears streaming down your face, fat droplets that are drowning you. You push and push, shoving past every person in front of you but it feels like you’re only going deeper and deeper, being dragged down into the circles of hell. It's like you’re already at the very centre. 

It’s hot in here. All the air’s been sucked out of the room, you toss your head in all directions, gasping and gasping and gasping, there are hands on your hips, your waist, gripping your arms, twisting and kneading and scratching, it’s all too much. 

“Let me go!” You sob. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

No one can hear you.

“I DON'T BELONG HERE!"

You blink. 

You’re on the streets. The cold air nipping at your skin and it stings your eyes, threatening to freeze the tears there. There’s no time to think about how you got there or how long you’ve been there; you run back to your dorm, clutching your ripped up cardigan and wiping the mascara from your cheeks.

And all night long, until the sun comes up, you cry.

Hours pass by, and those hours turn into days until a whole week has come and go, and you’re numb. Half of your things are still in their boxes, collecting dust, and you’ve received a ton of emails that stare back at you. 

Your mother calls. She asks how you’ve been, and you lie. 

You’ve made lots of friends, your subjects are super interesting, the people are welcoming, and you love it here. There isn’t anywhere else you’d rather go. She beams at you, spouting about how proud she is, and you watch her wipe tears away, just as you had before you picked up the phone, and whatever is left of your heart breaks further. 

It’s from that very moment, where she says she’s happy you’re where you’ve always wanted to be, you decide that it may not be now, but you’ll make it become the place of your dreams. It doesn’t matter how you got here; what matters is that you are here, and where you will be once you get your head down. 

No one needs anything other than hard work and ambition. You have never needed anything more, and you will never need anything more. 

These are all the lies you tell yourself as you fix yourself up, showering, changing and walking to class. The lies you repeat over and over again as you cry yourself to sleep, as you work at your desk, and when you try to drown yourself in the shower. A hollow mantra that holds no real weight as you ignore the onslaught of texts and calls from a person you no longer know. 

And a month later, when she walks past you wordlessly, you repeat it again. 

This is how things are supposed to be. 

How things will be. 

And you’ve never been happier.

[puckinghischier]

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

[ceesimz]

Reverie - Part 1

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - Part 2

Hey, I have some things to say before you start reading. ASD is a very vast spectrum, no two people with it experience the same stuff on a day-to-day basis. This story is written with my knowledge from people I know, and also from my own experiences living with autism too. So don't take this as 'the' perspective, this is a drop in the ocean and this most definitely isn't a handbook on autism. If anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, or ASD in general, you are more than welcome to message me or drop something in my inbox! This is just part one, if you like this first half of the story (because I have no idea how this will go down), let me know if you wanna see the second part, it's ready to go whenever.

Big big thanks to @copper-16 for editing it and leaving such lovely comments on it, I wouldn't have the confidence to post this if it wasn't for your words. Thank you for taking a chance on this story and opening yourself up to learn more, the world needs more people like you and we're all much better off that you're here🫶🏼🫶🏼

This is my favourite thing I've ever written, and I kinda feel like I'm giving away a piece of my heart by posting this (dramatic much), let me know what you think, hope you like it :)

“Are you ready to go in?”

Are you?

Are you ready to walk into a new setting, head held high, and show your teammates you are worth it? 

Or are you going to back out? Reverse right out the parking space, speed off to the airport, and catch a flight to god knows where?

That's simply not a possibility. Even if the thought of walking through those reception doors that stare tauntingly at you from across the car park perturbs you more than anything else, there's no backing out now.

Barcelona, the pride of Catalunya, the dominants of Europe, doesn't accept quitters. And that fact glares at you, along with all of its history and values held in the iconic badge that countless legends had adorned, and with it came a legacy you weren’t sure you had the strength to bare on your back. The new number nine, born and raised in Norway but made into the player you are now in Germany.

Here you were, after five years playing for Frankfurt, where you had grown accustomed to a comfortable routine with familiar faces and the same surroundings for so long, now in a new country that held so many unknowns. For someone with so many disadvantages ever present in their life, living in three different countries is a pretty impressive achievement.

Please, let it all be worth it.

After a few frustrating years in the Frauen-Bundesliga, you had signed for the best team in Europe and, arguably, the rest of the world too. Frankfurt had been a beautiful experience, one that had changed your life, but as a result of many, many long discussions with family and friends and psychologists, you had come to the terrifying realisation that it was time for a new challenge.

Why was that absolutely petrifying? Because you and life changes did not get along. Even after 26 years of living, it just wasn’t meant to be. But, such is life, and chances had to be taken.

You'd always be thankful for Frankfurt. Moving to play there was the first time you took such a huge leap of faith, and it had worked out well, eventually. In your eyes, the first season there was a disaster, but your mother would say it was the proudest year of her life. It had been difficult for her to see at times just how much you struggled at points, sure, but you made it to the light at the end of the tunnel and, by the end of it, you were a completely different person in the most incredible way possible. From then on, you continued to grow.

Yet, that was the thing with the German side. When you joined, they were a club with a legacy most teams would envy, but they never amounted to anything more during your time there. You fell in love with the staff, your teammates, and just about everything else during your time there. The only problem, which was pretty damn big in the grand scheme of things, was that you fell out of love with the football you were playing.

You were able to grow and survive at Frankfurt. You wanted to flourish and thrive at Barcelona.

Except, in comparison to the average human, there were a lot more obstacles ahead that could prevent you from accomplishing that aspiration. Over your life, you had overcome many bumps in the road, some leaving a harsh imprint on your self-worth and others hardly affecting you. For example, talking to the girl you were roomed with at 16 at the Norway Football Team camp had turned out to be one of the best things you could have done. Yet, in the same breath, playing for the national team had left you in a broken state, and as a result, you haven't played for them in a few years. 

The back and forth travel was too much, and opting out of playing for Norway, as much as it broke your heart that you weren’t strong enough to represent your country on the international stage, it allowed you to rest and recuperate so that you were at the top of your game for your club. Did you dream of wearing your country’s crest one day? Yes, all footballers did. But you weren’t in a place to do that, and you’re not sure you ever will be again.

Signing for Barcelona could be life-changing, but it could also be world-shattering in the worst way imaginable. This was a pretty sizable leap of faith, and the only way that faith could form into something incredible is if you made that happen. You, no one else. That thought filled you with both determination and crushing anxiety. This just could not be another failed attempt. There was no way you could come back.

Ultimately, it would have been downright psychopathic to turn down such an amazing offer from Barcelona. Two years playing for a club that's won three of the last four Champion's League finals? A team that had just completed the quadruple for the first time in their history? Yeah, nonsensical.

However, like always, there were a number of doubts that spiralled from those incredible stats. Did they need you? If they had a mostly flawless season, did they really need a 26 year old woman whose mind hardly functioned like every other person? Did they really need someone who couldn't even play for the national team anymore because they were too overwhelmed with their life? Did they need someone who needed their hand held through every life event, big or small? Did they-

“Hey, you ready?” 

That voice had some kind of magic to it. It was like clock-work, this always happened when she was around; that voice in your head consuming you with unwanted thoughts was erased as soon as you tore your eyes away from the doors and looked at the woman beside you. 

Ingrid. The one person that had single-handedly convinced you to come here. To Barcelona, playing in a hot country, with people you don’t know, speaking a language you can’t understand- oh my God, what have you done?!

“I… god, I don’t know.” You breathed out in a whisper, hardly intelligible. 

The world around you honed in on this one moment here, the peak of your career so far. Apart from Ingrid and the doors to the building and what was in store behind them, there was nothing else that could grasp your attention. There could be a blazing fire behind your car, a lion running full speed towards your car door, or a thief in the back seat for all you knew. Nothing else mattered. The two sides of your mind, the devil and angel on your shoulders were battling it out again, as they always were, whilst your hands fidgeted anxiously in your lap.

“You have to go in at some point, snuppa. You can’t stay in the car forever.” Ingrid softly reminded you, moving to take hold of your hand to comfort your stimming. “It will be a really good day, I promise. My years here so far have been the best of my life, everyone is so nice and welcoming. I never thought I could enjoy training as much as I do now. You will be fine, I have no doubts.”

“I’m not sure about that one.” You laughed nervously, eyes back on the building before you, now slightly glazed over and blurred. 

“I am certain about everything I just said.” Ingrid stated definitively, squeezing your hand. “Plus, not everyone in there are complete strangers. You have me, Mapi, you know Caro and you’ve met Jonatan and some other staff members. You know Loren, the team psychologist who you can go see any time you want. We’ll get you past this part of today, and then you have the whole afternoon to do whatever you’d like.”

You nodded at her words, desperately trying to remind yourself of them over and over so that they stick, and you can get through those damn doors. 

“You know how much easier my life would be if I knew how everything was going to play out?” You blurted out a moment later, Ingrid smiling in amusement. “It would be a breeze, Ingrid.”

“It would also make your life very boring, min skatt.”

“For you, it would be. For me, I'd live freely.”

Ingrid just laughed and shook her head, squeezing your hand once more before looking at the time on her watch.

“Come on. We have to do this one way or another, and I'm not letting you go in on your own. You want to make me late to training?” She teased, targeting your weak spot. Evil.

“That's cruel, Ingrid. So cruel.” You rolled your eyes but nevertheless stepped out of the car once you'd turned it off.

You didn't make it far though. Once you had gotten your kit bag from the boot of the car, you closed it and froze. Eyes unmoving from the daunting building in front of you.

“Would you like some company after training? We can stay at home, or go out for food, or do anything you'd like.” Ingrid offered, snapping you out of your anxious trance.

Even after… god, ten years now, you were still sometimes left dumb-founded by how well Ingrid knew you. A lot of the time, you yourself are in the dark about what you need, but your fellow Norwegian just gets it, even when you don't. It's pretty safe to say that your life, your whole career, would look a hell of a lot different if you had never met Ingrid.

If you put her characteristics into a different section when it comes to your favourite things about her, the thing you love most about the defender beside you is how she treats you. Sure, the majority of people treated you with respect and kindness, but the defender's love and care was on a whole other level. Like in this scenario now, when she knows you're too overwhelmed by the situation that confronts you to be able to think clearly. But here she is, giving you clear and thought-out options that off-kilt the tunnel vision you have on this one miniscule event, and now gives you something to look forward to. 

It reminds you that the world won't end if this training session doesn't go how you want it to, that life goes on afterwards. It makes the road clearer, the journey easier, and allows solace to be found in a down-right terrifying moment.

The funny thing is, however, is that your new home is actually Ingrid's home. No, you weren't living with her, but you were indeed staying in her apartment. She basically lived at Mapi's apartment anyway, so the second she caught wind of your transfer, she immediately offered her disregarded apartment up to you. It was a huge item checked off the ‘things that need doing after uprooting your entire settled, content, perfectly routine life’ to-do list, but you couldn't quite relish in the relief yet.

That's because, though it went unsaid, another factor of Ingrid's offer of letting you stay was so that, if all went wrong and you couldn't make a life for yourself in Barcelona, there was no tenancy to rip up and ultimately it would be a lot less hassle than if you had rented an entirely new place. Ingrid's excuse of not changing your name on the tenancy for now was so that you could settle in with as little stress as possible, but you knew the underlying meaning. Basically, it was a giant get out of jail free card.

“I think I would like that a lot, actually. Thanks.” You said to the taller girl next to you, whose arm had come to wrap around your shoulders.

“Perfect! María has some things to do but I'm free all afternoon, so we can figure something out. For now though, we have to train.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded once more.

“That's all it is. Just training.” You told yourself, physically shaking the anxiety off of your chest and marching forwards. You got as far as those damn doors before you froze on the spot again. “Fuck, this is so scary.”

“I know it is.” Ingrid sympathised, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “We've got this though. It's just training, right?” 

“It's just training. And a few introductions. And about a million new people.” You sighed. “Will you stick with me the whole time?”

“Like glue, søster.” Ingrid said firmly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let's go.”

And just like that, you did walk into the building with your head held high, disregarding the burdening nerves and replacing them with a deep-rooted determination to prove you are worth it. Maybe your teammates would think otherwise if they knew the secret you were keeping from them, but for now, you would put up a front and act just like them. Your best bet at succeeding here is to fit in, and that's what you'll do. 

Ingrid wasn't impressed with this tactic of yours, not in the slightest. Jonatan and other senior staff members knew about you, Loren the psychologist knew about you, and Mapi knew. Besides that, everyone else was in the dark. There was only so long Ingrid could last before she had to tell someone at least, like Alexia or Irene or Marta, because she wanted the best for you and the best couldn't be given if your needs weren't catered for.

Like now, as she watched your whole face change in a split second as the mask came down so fast that, had she blinked a second later, she would have missed it entirely. The tension to the way you held your shoulders was all the evidence she needed that your whole nervous system was wracked with dread, and though she should expect it by now, it didn't stop the jab of sympathy she felt for you.

Of course she knew how difficult this would be for you, she just had really high hopes. Sometimes, even after all these years, it slipped her mind how much you still struggled with things. You'd gotten a lot better at dealing with various different circumstances and that mere fact could bring tears to her eyes if she thought about how far you had come, but moments like these were a snap back to the reality you still lived.

You lived so beautifully, you were so strong now, that your struggles were hardly visible anymore. Yet, when one knows a person for so long, they come to learn the signs. Ingrid knew you like the back of her hand. It still amazed her how quick you put the mask back up, normally being so care-free and light around her. But here, outside of the room everyone was due to meet in for the morning, a feigned smile on your face and a falsity to your posture signified all that Ingrid needed to know.

Even despite your dawdling in the car park, you and Ingrid were some of the first to arrive at the meeting, only a handful of unfamiliar faces scattered around the room. Jonatan looked up at the door upon your arrival and his face lit up, immediately dropping what he was doing to come and greet you with a beaming smile. He offers a gentle handshake, also being sure to speak in clear English so that your mind wasn’t overloaded more than it already was. All of it was reassuring, especially as he kept you off to the side as the room slowly began to fill up, before guiding you to the last chair on the front row beside Ingrid so that the meeting could start. Thankfully, to your relief, he gave you a short introduction to the rest of the squad, you only briefly turning and giving the room a general wave before allowing Jonatan to move onto more pressing matters.

From then on, you were rushed off your feet with introductions and training, all of which weren’t half as bad as you’d expected. During the short walk from the meeting to the changing room, a few others came along to properly greet you, all whilst Ingrid stayed close to your side. Mapi had also come bounding along after you the second you left the first room, Ingrid wincing at the excitement her girlfriend met you with but instantly that worry was erased as soon as you turned to Mapi with a matching overjoyed smile. 

By the time you actually got onto the pitch, you had spoken to almost all of the team already. And like Ingrid said, they were just as amazing as you had hoped they would be. Every single one, in their own ways, welcomed you to the team and made small talk with you for a few moments before letting whoever next came by to have their own chance at greeting you. But, it wasn’t until you were about to join in with the warm-up that the person you’d been most nervous about meeting came along.

Your new captain, Alexia. The powerhouse of the Barcelona team, the one you had to leave the best impression on.

A few days prior, amidst a conversation in the corner of Ingrid’s favourite cafe, you had sheepishly demanded that she give you a run-down of each and every single member of the team. There had been Ona, who Ingrid described as a lightning fast defender whose jestful clapbacks were even quicker than her sprint bursts on the pitch. Then Cata, the new number one goalkeeper whose cheek was sometimes too much for even the younger members of the team. Jana, a surefire future talent who was often found beside her quieter, more reserved but equally talented counterpart, Bruna. Patri and Pina were much the same, as were Vicky and Salma. Ingrid gave you a short but detailed profile of all of them, leaving the most important for last. Alexia, who initially came across as slightly cold due to the stoic, focused expression she usually wore. But, to her teammates and those closest to her, she was a world class leader, an even better player, and most importantly, a defiantly caring person with a personality that had more sides than a kaleidoscope. 

Upon hearing the exit door slamming shut, you turned your attention to the direction of the sound, only to be met with her. Casually strolling over, squinting in the face of the sun, she came over to you with a… a smile on her face?

“Hola! You must be the novota, nice to meet you.” She beamed, inviting you into a quick, polite hug before standing back. “Happy to be here?”

As always with new people, especially someone like the woman before you, you floundered internally for a moment, so many replies flitting around your mind with so little time to react.

“Y-yeah! Really happy to be here, thank you, Alexia.” You landed on, and judging by her reaction, it was the right thing to say. 

“Good, I am glad to hear that. Sorry I was not here for the meeting, you’ve met everybody already, sí?”

“Yes, Jonatan introduced me in the briefing.” 

“Good. Bueno, let’s get started. I am excited to be working with you.” The Spaniard smiled brightly once more, before gesturing loosely for the pair of you to join the rest of the group.

The rest of the day, as they say, is history.

It honestly went by in a blur, and if Ingrid was at all surprised by the way you literally fell into your bed when you arrived home, not surfacing from the newfound safe haven until about an hour later, she didn’t show it. This was Ingrid after all, and every quirk of yours, new or old, still brought a smile to her face. Ten years later and she couldn’t help but love you more each time she saw you.

—

The first week goes a lot smoother than you could have dreamed of to be honest - it’s only the start of preseason after all. But, there is still plenty of time for cracks to show. It only takes two days for all your progress to tear at the seams.

On the first day of your second week, you’re walking into training on your own for the first time since you joined. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? Wrong! Big fucking deal actually, because now it’s like walking blind, heading straight for what feels like danger. Unguided, no one by your side, only joined by the weight of an elephant seated right on your heart.

With the help of Ingrid of course, who else, you had established somewhat of a routine that made the transition so much easier. But it wasn’t quite clear until now, just how much easier it had made showing up to training everyday. Because, without your Norwegian counterpart who would be absent from training, you were left to show up all alone, and suddenly everything became ten times harder. 

Ingrid was more than just your friend, she was the one constant in this new life you lived that was always present. Anything you needed, one glance from you in her direction and she’d be with you in an instant. She, as stupid as it may seem, was the foundation of your routine, and now that she wasn’t here, all the hard work you’d made to settle in seemed to crumble under your feet. 

Three weeks of living in Barcelona, one week of training successfully completed, just for you to end up back at square one. And that meant you were trapped in your own body, limbs acting entirely on autopilot as your legs carried you over to those stupid doors that once again stood intimidatingly in front of you. Just like last week, except this time there was no one to coax you out of your shell, no one to mindlessly guide you over to one of the tables in the canteen, no one to walk you out onto the training pitch. You were all alone.

An unfortunate tactic hadn’t left your habits after all these years: avoidance. What better way to deal with something, then to not deal with it all, right? Right? 

Obviously, you couldn’t miss the whole day, you still had commitments and expectations you needed to live up to. If there was one thing that you couldn’t handle (apart from almost everything in this neurotypical world) it was letting people down, disappointing them.

So, if you opted out of breakfast for the day and beelined straight for the changing rooms instead, what business was it to anyone else? You were here, that’s all they could ask for. The plan was to get dressed into your training kit as fast as physically possible, before heading out onto the pitch for some time alone before everyone else came along. 

…Except, just as you were lacing up your boots, hand trembling at an embarrassing intensity as you did so, the door opened prematurely. And, really, out of everyone, did it have to be her?

“Oh. I did not expect anyone to be in here. Bon dia.” Alexia smiled at you, heading to her cubby just a few seats away from yours.

“Bon dia.” You muttered sheepishly, keeping your head down and tying your laces at a wildly uncontrolled speed. If Alexia noticed, she didn’t mention it. Thank god.

“I was just going to get some extra practice in, if you wanted to join me.” She offered, swapping her trainers for her boots since she was already in her training gear.

Great minds think alike..?

“Yeah, I was going to do the same thing. Thanks.”

“Ay, it's nothing. It's great that you're so hard working, you’re already fitting right in.” Sorry, could you say that again, or write it down even? “Ready?”

“What? Oh- sorry, yes, I’m ready.” You gave her a tight-lipped smile before slipping past where she stood in the doorway and heading towards the pitch.

“How are you feeling about your time here so far?” The captain asked kindly, the beating sound of boots clicking against the floor echoing far too long in your ears.

“Um, good. It’s an honour playing for this team, so.” You shrugged, offering an almost robotic, rehearsed answer.

“And what about how you actually feel? Not what you’re supposed to feel?” Alexia inquired lightly, an earnest and sympathetic look across her face. Slightly suspicious.

“Well… still good. It’s just different, isn’t it. Yeah.” You mumbled, cheeks flushing bright red as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest.

“Of course it is different. You were in Germany for five years, right?” You nodded affirmatively. “So it is a big, big change. I haven’t been anywhere else but here for twelve years, I cannot imagine adjusting to anywhere else.”

Oh, Ingrid. Seriously?

“I’m here though, I have to leave Germany behind.” You stated in a flat voice, honestly quite done with this topic but it’d be rude to voice so.

“If that is how you want to think, then do it like that. You have transitioned very well, we are all impressed.” Alexia shrugged with a soft smile, punching in the code for the storage cupboard and opening it soon after. “Grab the footballs, I will get some tiny goals. The others can get the rest when they’re done filling their faces.”

Thank god for that.

Alexia ended that conversation there, directing her focus on training from that moment on, much to your relief. All that you learnt from this day was that you needed to have a conversation with Ingrid. Your sixth sense was strong, even if to others it seemed like Alexia was just being an averagely kind person, you just knew. 

The good thing was, you couldn’t quite call that day a disaster. In the end, you got through it, even squeezing in a few jokes and laughs here and there throughout the day.

It’s the next day that the first incident occurred. It happened like this; Ingrid isn’t in again, you learn she’s got some kind of stomach virus, so you turn up once more on your own. This time, it wasn’t quite so scary, but like yesterday you skipped breakfast again. And just like yesterday, Alexia met you in the changing rooms to do some early practice again. Except, there was one fatal flaw to your routine this day. It came back and bit you in the ass pretty harshly.

“Ale, what are you doing after this?” Mapi wondered from your right as she stood up after Jona had ended training for the day.

“Eh, nothing.” She shrugged, going to ask you the same thing as she reached her hands out to help you up.

For all you knew, the Spanish pair you were sandwiched between could be speaking absolute gibberish, nothing was registering. As soon as you stood up, everything went hazy. And then… your vision had gone, your body felt unbelievably heavy, and had it not been for Alexia’s tight grip, you’d have fallen back there and then.

“Hey!” Alexia called out in concern, feeling you go limp in her hold. “Mapi, she’s fainting!”

“What!?” Mapi cried, immediately falling to her knees as Alexia safely guided you to the floor.

“I don’t know, she just collapsed!” 

Her voice dripped with worry as Mapi frantically looked around, only to find most people had headed inside already. Meanwhile, you were still awake, not totally out cold, but your eyes ached unbearably and you’d lost all control of your movements. Alexia’s hands flitted over your body, looking for any obvious problems but she couldn’t find any. She repeated your name over and over, only receiving somewhat of a whimper in reply.

“Mapi, go find someone, now!” Alexia demanded, the defender instantly rising to her feet and heading for the door. The captain turned back to you, her hands gently coming up to cradle your face where you lay on your side. “Hey, I need you to listen! Can you hear me?”

“Mhm.” You whined, providing the woman before you with an ounce of relief.

“What’s wrong? You need to tell me so we can help you, cariño, you just fainted on us.” She said frantically, her wide eyes boring into yours when you opened them.

Identifying the problem, even in your state, was quite simple. It was a common problem, something you were well versed with, though you rarely ever let it get this bad.

“Forgot to eat.” You mustered up your remaining strength, which really was very little, to answer her and quell her worries.

Thinking back to this moment in probably an hour’s time, you’d laugh at Alexia’s face when you said those three words, because she looked utterly perplexed.

“You forgot to eat?” Alexia repeated with a frown, but she couldn’t dwell on it much longer because Mapi came running over with the medical team hot on her tails.

“Is she awake?” The brunette woman asked desperately, opting out of kneeling back beside you so as to not overcrowd you.

“Yes, and she said she forgot to eat today?” Alexia looked up at her friend, refusing to shift out of the way and instead choosing to stick by your side. 

“Oh, that would explain it.” Mapi sighed in relief, only puzzling Alexia more. Was this… normal for you?

The medics fussed over you, asking you questions and ultimately overwhelming you way too much, something Mapi notices quickly.

“Oye, basta, slow down. Her blood sugar is low, she needs something quickly. Get her an energy gel.” Mapi commanded them, now joining you by your head and smiling her bright smile down at you, combing back some of your hair. “Hola preciosa, we'll get you back feeling better soon.” Just as she said that, a member of the medical staff pulled out one of the energy gels the team used for games. “Can you have this for me? It will make you feel better, I promise.”

With a nod, the people around you helped you to sit up as Mapi tore  open the gel packet, with Alexia still almost frozen in confusion. The defender noticed, grinning in amusement and quickly flicking her ear to bring her back down to earth.

“Ah! What's that for?” Alexia winced, watching on as Mapi shook her head and handed you the gel pack.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to your mouth, hardly possessing the strength to squeeze it enough to get anything out of it, but just as Mapi went to help you, Alexia got there first.

“It’s okay, here.” She does it for you, one hand on the packet and the other on your elbow that shakes under her hold. She seemed to be grounded now, knowing that it isn't the right moment to be wrapped up in her own thoughts when you're here in front of her, needing security and comfort whilst it takes a couple minutes to come back to yourself. “Easy with it. You'll feel better soon.”

And you did, literally no less than two minutes after having the energy gel, your nausea and dizziness and whatnot near enough disappeared. Though, your physical symptoms gave way for a barrage of anxiety, because this situation would consequently lead to an unwanted and challenging (but most likely necessary) conversation with Jonatan and the rest of the staff. They had also seen you, on the floor, near enough passed out, as a result of your own actions. You could only imagine the things they were thinking right now, and that unknown was scarier than the actual situation that had occurred beforehand.

“Feeling good now. Thanks everyone.” You said shyly, rising to your feet and avoiding everyone's gaze.

“You sure?” Alexia checked, giving you a look that tells you that you shouldn't even try to bullshit her.

“Well, a little bit… woozy, I guess. But much better than before, I swear.” You nodded, hating the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. 

“Let’s go inside, I’ll ask the catering staff to make up some food for you, if you want?” Mapi offered as her hand hovers against your back, not touching but guiding you back inside the main building.

“Okay.” You shrugged.

Meanwhile Alexia trailed behind, trying to figure out how, as captain, she could help this situation. It’s in her best interest to care for her team, and given what she had learnt, it was now clear that there was a lot more she could do than sit back and watch. She didn’t want to come across as overbearing, something Ingrid had warned her about, but she realised it was time to step in.

“Why don’t we go to one of the office rooms rather than the canteen?” She suggested just as Mapi went to open the door heading into said room. The defender should have thought of that sooner, but she’s glad her friend mentioned it, realising it’s most definitely the better option right now for you. 

You were taken to an empty office, followed into the room by Alexia and Mapi and some of the physios, and if they weren’t overcrowding you outside, they definitely were now. In all honesty, as much as you were grateful for their care, you wanted to burrow under your duvet in bed at home and not surface for probably about a week. You wanted to grab a tray of cookies, eat them whilst seated on the edge of your bed so you didn’t get crumbs everywhere, and crawl under the sheets safe in the darkness of the four walls you had struggled to leave the past two days.

But no, you were here, stuck in a reality that in no way felt real at all. What were you doing here? Sat at a round table, surrounded by medical staff chatting between themselves, not really bothered about your blip anymore, whilst two of Spain’s greatest players stand off to the side, both pairs of eyes trained solely on you.

You, a no-name off the back of an unsuccessful run in Germany that had just collapsed after training. Them, Champion’s League winners and well-established in the sport for years already, and decades to come.

“Preciosa?” Mapi appeared beside you suddenly, speaking softly as her hand fell on your shoulder. “Is it okay if I leave now? Ingrid is still sick at home, I promised I would get back to her as fast as I could. If you need me to stay, I can. They won’t keep you here for much longer, they’re just making sure you eat before you get back home.”

She should be with Ingrid, her girlfriend who is much worse off at home. Not with you, who simply made a foolish mistake and was now wasting everyone’s time.

“Go home.” You told her as your own hands squeezed anxiously at your upper arms where they sat crossed on the table.

“Okay.” Mapi smiled pitifully down at you, giving you a light forehead kiss before backing off. She pulled Alexia to the side, giving her a warning glare. “Look after her, for me and for Ingrid. Protect her, too. Don’t let them overwhelm her, she just wants to get home.”

“Sí. Of course.” Alexia replied firmly, a solid look in her eyes that Mapi knew to trust immediately. 

The defender slipped out of the room with no further fuss, leaving you alone with Alexia and the medical staff. Not for long, though.

“Guys, could you give us a moment? And can someone go collect her food from the canteen, please.” 

They nodded and stepped out of the room, Alexia closing the door softly behind them. She turned back to you, watching as you kept your head down and focused on the shapes you traced on the wood of the table. Your shoulders were visibly tense, so uptight they’re basically touching your ears, and she noticed just how intensely your leg was bouncing up and down.

“Do you need anyth-”

“Did Ingrid tell you?” You asked bluntly, gulping back the lump in your throat that really had no place making itself known at this moment - now was not the time for a meltdown. Save it for later, in the safety of your flat.

Alexia blew out a breath, coming over to perch on the edge of the desk a few seats away from you.

“If you’re talking about what I think you are, then… yes. She did tell me.” She answered cautiously, trying to gauge your reaction but you didn’t give her much, just a single nod. “She did it with the best intentions though. It wasn’t to… purposely go behind your back. She just wants the best for you, and the more people that know, the more support you can have here.”

“I guess.” You murmured under your breath, clearing your throat after and moving to rest your chin atop your arms.

“Why… why didn’t you want anybody to know?” The midfielder wondered in a soft tone, trying hard not to scare you off or go over the top. If she wants to help you and understand you, which she desperately does, this is the pathway she has to, albeit reluctantly, go down.

“Wanted people to get to know me, not a label.” You frowned, hastily wiping the tear that slips out with the frustration slowly bubbling inside of you. “Didn’t want to be a problem for anyone. Wanted to fit in.”

Just like that, it all clicked for Alexia.

The feigned smiles, sometimes forced laughter, the troubled look on your face whenever you thought you were alone, all of it adds up. You had repressed parts of you so that things went as smooth sailing as possible, so that people didn’t think any differently of you or immediately feel drawn away like they often did. The biggest part of you, what makes you you, is the one thing you didn’t want people to see, out of nothing but complete and all-consuming fear. And Alexia would be damned if she let you go on like this.

“Can I take a seat next to you?” She said quietly, a hint of a smile on her face when you nodded again. She did exactly that; without making too much noise in the still room, she pulled up the chair next to you and sat down, her eyes raking up and down your face.

“If I told you that I don’t think any differently of you at all, would you believe me?” She began with. 

You just shrugged dismissively, not having moved a single muscle in the past few minutes apart from breathing and blinking. If you don’t move, if you don’t draw attention to yourself, perhaps this whole thing will disappear. A girl can dream.

“Because I don’t, cariño. I really don’t. You are not a problem for any of us at all. You face different struggles than us, but nobody thinks of you as anything less than a great player and an even better person. We are all glad you are here. I and others on the team will face different struggles than you, and I can bet you would never think any differently of us. Am I right?” 

Her words break through the defensive wall you’d put up to protect yourself from anything else around you. A common feature of the start of your meltdowns, except it’s quite possible that your captain had just stopped it from going any further.

Hesitantly, you sat up from your slouched position and wiped tiredly at your face.

“No, I would never.” You told her, slumping back against your chair and fiddling with the drawstring on your shorts.

“Exactly. You don’t need to worry about any of that at all, I promise. You are one of us now. A culer. We will take care of you.” She smiled brightly, you can hear it in her voice. So for the first time since you’d entered the room, you turned to look at her, only to find her eyes were filled with earnesty and kindness. And… perhaps for the first time since you’d arrived in Barcelona, you truly did feel like you belong here. Like you could make a life for yourself here, against all odds.

“Thanks.” You sniffled, feeling the remnants of your outburst fade away, only to leave overwhelming exhaustion in its wake.

“It’s okay. You can come to me anytime for anything. There will always be someone here for you to talk to, and I’ll be the first to fight for you if that’s ever necessary.” Now, you were actually smiling. A genuine one, too.

“I think Ingrid might beat you to it, actually.” You teased her, watching as she grins.

“You’re probably right.” She chuckled, before pausing. You already knew what she was about to say before she opened her mouth. Neurotypicals are just way too predictable. “How did you know Ingrid told me?”

“You can just tell when someone knows. They treat you differently.” Alexia frowned anxiously at that.

“I didn’t… did I treat you differently?” She questioned, along with a poor attempt at disguising the undertones of fear in her voice.

“You haven’t, not really, but… I don’t know, I can just tell instantly. It’s hard to explain. You haven’t treated me differently, but I could tell you knew compared to when you didn’t know. The look on your face too. But thank you for… just everything so far. You have helped a lot, so.” You shrugged. She smiled, a little in relief, but nodded nevertheless.

“You don’t need to thank me. Now, can I ask some more about what happened today? You said you forgot to eat?” 

“Yeah. It’s just because my routine was messed up, that’s all. Yesterday morning I ate before training because Ingrid had baked me some pastries, but today I had none left and then genuinely forgot. It happens sometimes, it’s just part of it.”

“Part of what?”

“Autism.” Duh.

“Oh. I did not know that.” Alexia stated simply. 

“Yeah, well, most people don’t.” You told her. Alexia nodded understandingly, a plan of action already formed in her mind.

“I’m sure you already know this, as an athlete, but it’s important for your safety that this doesn’t happen again. So I have a solution in mind that could help.” You hummed to tell her to continue. “I can ask either the catering staff here, or find a private chef, to start meal prepping for you. We can organise it on the club’s behalf so that you don’t have to pay anything. I will go with you, or for you if you’d like, to Jonatan and help sort it out for you. You can meet with a nutritionist to figure out what food you need and tell them what you do and don’t like, we can sort it all out for you. It wouldn’t be a problem.” 

Oh. You’d never thought about that before. 

“I guess that could work.” You decided after a few moments of consideration. 

That would actually be a really helpful solution. Certainly one less thing to worry about, and it could add a secure layer to your routine. An important one too.

“Would you be okay with that?” Alexia wondered, smiling when you nodded. “Good. Leave it to me, I will get it sorted for you.” 

She paused again, clearly hesitant about something. You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to coax it out of her with a look, but you couldn’t help the amused smile on your face at the sudden, faint blush that landed on her cheeks.

“What is it?” 

“Uh… there is no way to ask this without coming across as… very forward, to say the least.” She started, shaking her head at her own ridiculousness. “May I get your number? For captain’s reasons, of course.”

“Right.” You smirked, watching as she shakes her head, this time at your teasing, and grabs a pen from the stationary pot in the centre of the table. “And what shall I write it on?”

“Well… just use my hand, I guess.” She suggested, offering the back of her hand out for you. You grinned and gently took hold of it, jotting down your number for her. 

“There you go, Capi.” You smiled, clicking the pen and putting it back.

Not long after that, one of the staff members came in with the food Alexia and Mapi had organised for you. So, leaving your captain with a promise that you'll eat it the second you walked through your apartment door, you went home. It was a great meal, and if it'd be the catering staff at Barcelona that would do your meal prep, well, it'd be a great deal.

That night went just like the others; you relaxed for some time to decompress after training, until you eventually started feeling somewhat human again, and arose from bed to do one of any of your hobbies that you felt like doing that night. Reading, watching movies, drawing and painting, listening to music, or any others that pique your interest that night. 

On some occasions, you'll be so mentally exhausted from your day that none of them seem at all appealing, and it takes a lengthy period of time to feel yourself again. An hour, the rest of the evening, or sometimes even the whole week. After especially hard times, it could take weeks. Fortunately you hadn't been through such events in years, but the fear of falling into that hole ever again was always present in the back of your mind.

The thing about having this disorder is that some things never change. Most things never change. You learn to cope, you can heal from past experiences, but in the grand scheme of it all, things never change. Certain events, people, even words can still be triggers. No amount of therapy or coping mechanisms or whatever, can help. You were born this way, and you would die this way. 

You would live a life and still struggle with even the most mundane things. Washing dishes was a no-go, the sensory issues were way too intense for that one. A day without showering first thing in the morning was automatically a write off. Bad performances in matches could still lead to a meltdown on certain days. One wrong look from someone can send you spiralling.

Autism was a blessing and a curse. It made you who you are; you have no idea who you would be without it. Yet, at the same time, it could debilitate you to such extreme degrees that… at night, when you were alone under the disguise of darkness,  you can't help but wonder what you could have done with your life had you not been born with this burden.

And with the day you'd had already, well, the only way you'd learnt to get over these things were to move on from them. That's what you had to do. If you become too concentrated on them, analysed every detail that went wrong, thought about every opinion those who witnessed it could hold, you'd suffer for it more than you needed to.

You couldn't move on if others couldn't move on though.

Unknown: Did you get home safe?

There was most likely only one person it could be, but where's the fun in that?

You: Depends who I'm talking to…

Alexia: It's Alexia??

Too easy.

You: I knew it was you, dumbass. Yes I got home safe, thank you. Food was great too :)

Although, when a few minutes went by after that last text, the doubts came flooding in. Did you take it too far with her? It was a bit ballsy to say that, she's just checking in on you. Captain duties.

Then again, who was it calling you?

“Hello?” You frowned, and this was another instance where you're cursing yourself, because why was your heart racing and cheeks burning at one random phone call?

“Dumbass, huh?” Came a smug voice, and then your heart was racing for another, more light-hearted reason.

“Yeah, sorry about that… apparently I'm a bit of a keyboard warrior.” You blushed sheepishly, relieved beyond belief when the woman down the line laughed.

“Don't worry about it. You're feeling okay now, sí?” 

“Yes, fine. You know, I didn't plan for today to happen. It just did.” You mumbled, still embarrassed by it all.

“I know, no one blames you for it. I just wanted to check in with you.” 

“I'm good, thanks. I've only ever had that happen like once before, I guess training on an empty stomach isn't the greatest idea in the world.” You joked lightly, Alexia humming in agreement.

“How does it happen? You said your routine was messed up, how did that lead to you forgetting?”

“It's a long story.” You sighed, but Alexia doesn't care.

“I have a free evening.” She said simply. This woman.

“Well… every training session so far, Ingrid has met me in the morning at my apartment beforehand so we can travel in together. She normally checks in with me, asks how I'm feeling and if I've eaten and whatnot. But she was ill, which I obviously don't blame her for, by the way. So not having her with me these past two days has terrified me quite a bit. She's basically the thing that holds my whole morning routine together. I guess, because she wasn't there, everything just flew out the window.” You explained, but things still weren't quite adding up in Alexia’s mind.

“So how does that relate to you forgetting to eat? Do you not get hungry?”

“Not like normal people do. One of the things with autism is that… we're not really in tune with our bodies? Like, I don't often get hungry or thirsty, I have to force myself to remember to eat and drink. And when I don't, I only realise I haven't done either of the two when I start feeling ill, like today. But food and drink feel like a chore, which is another reason I forget too. It's different when it comes to football though, being an athlete has taught me to be in tune with my body in terms of injuries, but not for anything else. It's weird.” 

“Wow, I never knew that before. That's interesting.” She commented. She's got a lot to learn.

“I prefer… inconvenient.” You said with a shy smile, glad to hear Alexia chuckle at that.

Unexpectedly, for quite some time after that, the pair of you just… talked. A lot. Like, for an hour. About everything - from what pastries Ingrid baked you, to a few more facts about yourself and your ASD, and everything in between. 

It's unnervingly natural. Fun too, but also a little odd. Is she doing it out of pity, or..?

“I almost forgot the other reason I called you.” She said out of nowhere, the smile on her face audible once again. “We have our pre-season dinner this Friday, the whole team is going. You should come.”

A dinner? At a restaurant? Oh god.

“Oh, I… it sounds good, but I don’t know, I-”

“Hey, why not?” She questioned gently.

“Just, they’re not really my scene.”

In a split second, Alexia attempted to think back on all she knew about anxiety to combine it with the very little information she knew about autism, hoping the two overlapped somewhat. Luckily for her, they do.

“The club rents out the restaurant so it’ll just be the team and a few senior staff members. It shouldn’t be too loud. It’s more like a celebratory dinner before the season starts, so there's no partying or anything like that at all. I really hope you come, but I understand if not. There’s no pressure.”

Damn you, Alexia.

“Okay. Okay, I'll go.”

—

Normal order resumed for the rest of the week; Ingrid recovered from her short 48-hour bug and returned to training like she hadn't even had a day off. Her being back also meant your mind was a hell of a lot more at ease, even if Alexia had offered to see you every morning. 

There was one other thing you were blessed with: obliviousness. Because, during the car ride to training the day after your phone call with the captain, the smirk that Mapi greeted you with in the rearview mirror after you tell her what happened once she headed home, is definitely not confusing at all. Definitely not.

That smirk made a comeback far sooner than you'd like. 

“Say that again?” Mapi asked with a squint to her eyes, forcing down the laughter she so desperately wants to let out.

“Alexia is driving me to the team dinner.” You repeated the sentence you'd just said for her, looking to Ingrid for help. “Ingrid, tell her to behave please.”

“María, come on. Alexia is just doing her a favour, you know she's not a fan of driving.” Ingrid said whilst nudging her girlfriend, though secretly she's hiding some intense excitement levels under her very good poker-face.

“Exactly! Screw you, Mapi.” You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you put your earrings in.

“So you're sure you don't need us to drive you there?” Mapi asked suspiciously, and there was that stupid smirk again. 

“Ugh, yes! I am making friends, you should be happy!” You groaned, fixing the shorter defender with a dagger-like glare in the reflection.

“More than fr-”

“Okay! Are you ready, snuppa? When is Alexia coming?” Ingrid interjected, discreetly stomping on her girlfriend's foot.

“She's on her way, she'll be here any minute now.” You answered after checking your phone. “You know, I can't rely on you guys forever like you're my parents or something. I love you, but I don't love you that much. And I'm sure you feel the same.”

“No!” Ingrid cried out in a way that's entirely too theatrical. She came over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I do love you that much, it's María you need to worry about.”

“I do worry about her sometimes. You should too, Ingrid.” You murmured, Ingrid humming in agreement as you watched her Spanish counterpart… busy herself in your fridge?

“María, out of there! We are literally going for dinner right now!”

“Ingrid, princesa, you need to work on your English- we're not at dinner ‘right now’, that is why I am in the fridge.” 

“Guys! Alexia is here, let's go. I'll see you at the restaurant.” You kissed Ingrid’s cheek and flicked Mapi’s forehead as you ushered them out the door, locking it behind you and making your way down to the ground floor.

Alexia was there, waiting for you whilst leaning against her car, and a smile tugged at her lips the second she saw you. You heard some commotion behind you, most likely Mapi being scolded by Ingrid, but you shut it out as you headed over to the midfielder, fighting back a ridiculously cheesy grin.

She greeted you the same way she did on the first day she met you - enveloping you in a warm hug that really shouldn’t be as comforting as it was. Not a big deal. Regardless, you both clambered into the car and made your way to the restaurant.

Thankfully, the evening went surprisingly well. It was a very low-key evening, just like Alexia said. In fact, you might even go as far as to say you enjoyed it, that’s a welcome revelation. And it seems you weren’t the only one that had discovered something new.

“Can I ask you something?” Alexia said on the drive back to your apartment.

“Sounds like there’s no stopping you.” You replied, smiling when she teasingly rolled her eyes.

“At dinner, when Patri asked why you don’t drink, you said ‘long story short, I don’t like it’ so I was just wondering what you meant by that?” Alexia asked, before almost immediately regretting it. “I mean, you don’t have to answer, it’s your business, but… if there’s anything we should be mindful about, then let me know.”

Who needed alcohol when you had a tendency to lose your inhibitions whenever you got too exhausted?

“No, not really any problems. I don’t have any issues with people drinking around me, I just have a bit of a history with it but it’s nothing big. It’s fine.” You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes open as the streets of Barcelona passed by your window. 

“What… what happened?” Alexia pressed gently.

“Well, when I was about seventeen, I started going through a really hard time. I had just dropped out of school, I’d had some trouble with friends, I was basically struggling quite badly. I started partying and drinking a lot, way more than I should have. Then I began to rely on it too much, just to get me through really basic stuff. It made me feel normal, it got rid of the voice in my head and it made me feel like a functioning person of society because it was what everybody else did. One day I decided it was best that I don’t drink at all, and it’s easier to tell people I don’t like it but actually I’m just scared of drinking because of all it reminds me of. So, I avoid it.” You explained, rather nonchalantly. 

The mental exhaustion was hitting hard that night, it was evident in the way you spoke. There was one explanation; dissociation. Dinners were not your favourite things in the world, they were a challenge to get through even when you were in the best company. Small talk, food, the sound of people eating, the scrapes of cutlery against ceramic, and the attention on some occasions being entirely on you? Yeah, a big no go. Which is why you were so tired, so distant, because your mind was in protection mode to keep you running until you got home.

Talking about your past was difficult, you’d come a long way and it felt counter-intuitive to talk about the bad times when you’d worked so hard to come to a good place. Yet, here you were, baring your soul about a topic you normally kept to yourself. You don’t even feel at least a little bit anxious at the fact you’d just spilled that secret. Alexia takes all the concern you normally feel and keeps it for herself.

“I’m sorry you went through that, cariño. Thank you for telling me.” She smiled sadly over at you, an ache growing in her heart at your defeated demeanour where you sit in her passenger seat. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“Tired. So tired.” You sighed. Even just talking felt like a chore in that moment. “Wanna get home, s’all.”

“Okay, we’re almost there now.” She said, “I’m proud of you for coming today. I know you weren’t a fan of the idea initially but you came, and everybody was so glad that you did. I am really proud of you, and so are Ingrid and Mapi too.”

The woman to your left surprised you everyday with each act of kindness she was showing. She hardly knew you, she hardly knew of your struggles, but she was adamant to learn and show just how deeply she cared. You were beyond grateful for her and all she’d said and done, even if you couldn’t verbalise that just yet.

All you could do was offer a simple nod, almost entirely mute as a result of how utterly overstimulating the day had been. You had loved it, sure, but sometimes when days like today left you in such a dejected state that you could hardly talk, there were still times if you wondered if fighting for a somewhat normal life was worth it. 

From then on, the rest of the drive home was silent. Alexia dropped you off, made sure you knew to contact her or Ingrid or whoever you felt comfortable speaking to should you need them, and that was that. You got inside, were barely able to get yourself changed, before passing out as soon as you got into bed.

—

A few weeks went by and it was more of the same. After that dinner, the team really clamped down and focused on getting everybody ready for the start of the new season. Training at Barcelona was different to anything you’d ever experienced before; it was intense, but light-hearted. There was competition, but it was healthy, everybody egged each other on even if they wanted to win. Ingrid was right, you had never found training this enjoyable before. You had to put that down to the people though, if it wasn’t for them then you’d never feel as comfortable as you do now. 

There were blips, there were still obstacles, but apart from that time you fell ill after training , there hadn’t really been any meltdown-inducing moments. Just a lot of burn-out and exhaustion, but you were near enough a pro at dealing with that now. 

The environment was… perfect for you. And one factor of that outcome is definitely down to the help of the famous three you had near enough attached yourself to since your arrival.

But the main factor to how well you had settled in was down to you. At some point along the way, not that the exact date mattered or anything (at exactly 12:02 on Monday the 26th of August), you hit a milestone that you had never managed to reach before. 

It was unplanned, but once the initial shock had worn off and the anxiety left, you teared up in the arms of Ingrid at the pride you felt towards yourself. Then Mapi joined in with the hug, and so did Alexia, then… so did the whole team too. 

For the first time, you were honest with your team. For the first time, you told them that you had autism. And for the first time, you weren’t suffocated by that prospect. When they all came together to hug you, it wasn’t just a physical embrace, it was them fully accepting you even with this burden you held and championed every day of your life. Though, with the support of others, it was hard to think of it as a burden. The gravity of a secret this big had weighed you down for years, but… now, your chest had never felt so light.

They supported you when you arrived, but the extremes this Spanish team took didn’t quite register until the week before the first game of the Liga F season. Fortunately for you, the first game of the season was at your new home of football, the Estadi Johan Cruyff. So, to help settle the rising nerves you were feeling as game day got closer, the club had organised a training session for you at the stadium a few days before. The more familiar you were with your surroundings, the less you had to worry about on the day. And, as everybody knew, the only thing you needed to worry about for your debut would be how well you did on the pitch.

What you didn’t know though, was that every member of your team was waiting in the stands for you to walk out. And the second the sound of boots hitting the floor echoed from the tunnel through the empty stadium, Mapi was up on her feet to cheer and encouraged her teammates to do the same. The only person that hesitated was Ingrid, but when she saw the look on your face as your te- your friends outwardly rallied behind you so openly and so freely, she became the loudest one of them all. That was the perfect way to prepare for game day, you really couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to work with everyday.

Were you jittery and wracked with nerves as you waited on the sidelines to be substituted in at the 70 minute mark? Yes, but the second you took your first step on the grass with the crowd’s applause as your welcome, you fixated on the game and everything else was just background noise. 

From a young age, before you had even heard of the word autism, football had very obviously been your special interest, otherwise known as the one random topic out of everything in the world to take over your life. 

You would spend hours in your backyard, kicking a ball against the side of your house, driving your family crazy. The walls of your bedroom were covered, corner to corner, in posters ranging from your favourite players, to clubs from all over the world. Christmases and birthdays as a kid were, to you, all about what from your presents you could add to your collection. Kits, boots, scarves, match-day programmes, magazines, even trading cards. Back at your childhood home in Norway, all these things were stored away in the attic, still items you cherished. 

As you got older and life got a bit more difficult, football became your escape. School was exhausting, people were exhausting, but football was something you could do on your own. No one bothering you, no one expecting anything from you, it was a time you could forget the world and all its misdemeanours, and just relax. And honestly, that’s all you planned for it to be. It was hard to imagine it being anything else than just a hobby.

All it took was one game to change the whole trajectory of your life. A game of girls against boys at your school at the age of only eleven, and the next day your sports teacher had gotten you a trial at the local academy. You passed it with flying colours, and flourished in the sport from there.

…Until one random day when you were fourteen, your mother sat you down for a conversation you never could have expected. But once you'd had time to dwell on her words, everything made sense. 

You had autism spectrum disorder. 

It wasn’t made official until the assessment process was over and you received your diagnosis, but that was the day it felt like your life had been irreversibly changed. Your view of the world changed with one conversation, and it was as if everything you thought you knew was wiped completely. Like you had been thrown into the ocean with no one and nothing around to help. 

All the tantrums, the bad behaviour at home compared to being a model student at school, the fussy eating habits, and the endless list of out-of-the-norm habits you had - it added up to this one, new label. The tantrums became meltdowns, the reasoning behind your behavioural differences were from spending the whole day surrounded by people and masking to fit in which led to you being so overwhelmed and overstimulated, your mind went into overdrive and didn’t know what to do. The fussy eating turned out to be sensory issues, with the textures and tastes of certain foods making you physically ill.

There was so much to learn that some days it felt like too big a challenge to tackle. Then there would be the days where you were up all night, the light of your family laptop kept hidden under the blanket you draped over yourself, as you researched this life-changing disorder until the sun rose.

It’s funny, really, how quickly your life can change with just three words.

For years, you had been defeated by it, succumbing to the assumptions that you could never amount to anything more than the label forced upon you, but look at you now. Providing a world class through ball to the most recent Ballon D’Or recipient to tie off a 3-0 win in the first game of the season.

You had learnt at some point in the last twelve years that the only choice you had was to live with it. Make the most of it. This was your one life, you had to make it work. You were adamant to thrive for the others that couldn’t, for the 1 in 13 women that didn’t believe they were strong enough to fight back, and to prove to the world that this disorder didn't hold you back.

They wouldn’t know that your mind could be your own worst enemy, or the self-deprecating thoughts you could have whilst your face gave away no hints, or that sometimes you didn’t believe in yourself and the anxiety was so intense that you could be stuck in bed for days, even weeks, at a time. All they saw right now was your team, FC Barcelona, rushing over to celebrate you rather than the goal scorer because they knew what it meant to you. The world would only ever see your victories, because they had no business to strike you when you were already down. You were strong, you were worth it, and most importantly, you had done it. You’d made it to the exact point you dreamed of. That’s all that mattered.

Unfortunately, it only takes one bad thing to set you down an unwanted path.

Part 2

[itneverendshere]

I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3

loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖

i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.

You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.

Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.

You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.

It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?

You’re not so sure.

"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.

Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”

You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”

You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.

“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”

He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”

No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”

He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 

You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.

Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.

The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.

Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.

You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.

That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.

Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.

“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.

You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.

Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 

I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..

But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 

“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”

What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”

“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”

You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”

Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”

Oh.

You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”

“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."

His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”

You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.

 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.

“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”

That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

“Dirty pogues who think—”

"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."

“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"

Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."

“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”

That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.

He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."

You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 

He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.

Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.

Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”

Girl drama your ass.

He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.

He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”

Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.

“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”

Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”

Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

"She’s a psycho.”

Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"

"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”

“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”

You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.

But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.

“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.

You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”

You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”

He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”

You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”

Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”

You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”

He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”

You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”

He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.

“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.

Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”

You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 

He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.

“I like you horny.”

You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.

You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.

“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"

You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.

But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 

His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.

You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 

“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”

He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”

You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.

“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.

He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”

You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.

You need him, and you need him now.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.

You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.

You feel filthy.

You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”

He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”

You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.

She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.

But you? You feel smug.

You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.

Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.

“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."

And that’s what makes it even sweeter.

[youwerethedefeated]

Been seeing a lot of interesting conversations over on Twitter about how class difference is portrayed in Haikyuu, and in contrast, it made me think about those shit ass "hinata would have grown more in another school" tik tok takes and why they make me so mad.

Like no shit, Sherlock, ANYONE would be able to thrive more in a richer school, with a properly funded volleyball club and everthying that comes with it. Schools like Shiratorizawa, Fukurodani, Inarizaki and etc. that are regulars at Nationals.

And that's the whole point of the story. I'm Hinata Shouyou from the concrete. Karasuno is literally portrayed as a garbage dump. Before Takeda takes over and convinces Ukai to coach the team, the vb club was literally in shambles

(And even before, during the glory days of Old Ukai, it seems like the school still didn't make a heavy investment in the club)

Anyway, Karasuno isn't a rich, renowned school. It isn't the best school. It doesn't have the best coaches or a bus or a whole ass cheer squad. And yet it's exactly the school Hinata wanted. He was willing to bike half an hour over a mountain, back and forth, every single day just to be able to attend it.

THE WHOLE POINT is that he still managed to climb his way up to the top despite not having a strong base and not being able to attend one of the best schools in the country. He who would climb the ladder must begin at the bottom. The whole point is that Karasuno- the team as a whole- managed to claw their way to Nationals despite everything.

(Also, I've seen people call Ukai a bad coach, and let me just say: WASH YOUR MOUTH. Ukai is an overworked likely underpaid 20 something dude who probably doesn't have a degree in any sort of teaching position. He agrees to coach the vb team despite having a store to run and helping out at his family's farm. This man is flying by the seat of his pants, working solely with his intuition and the knowledge he gained from watching his grandfather coach - which was almost TEN YEARS ago. The fact that he managed to take the boys to Nationals and get them as far as he did despite being inexperienced actually says a lot about Ukai's intelligence and potential.)

[lovemaybankk]

secret boyfriend: jj maybank x pastorsdaughter!reader (18+)

pairing: jj maybank x pastorsdaughter!reader

summary: jj maybank had been quietly drawn to you for weeks, his admiration growing with each passing conversation. what started as simple chats after church turned into something more meaningful, as he found himself captivated by your warmth and innocence.

word count: 1,837 words

author's note: thanks for reading guys :) i thought this was a super cute idea and i also wanted to write at least one one-shot during this super busy week of mine where i can't work on any series!

warning: mdni, all fluff, established relationship, cursing, making out, groping, touching, suggestive comments

every sunday after the morning service, your family followed the same tradition: an afternoon at the country club for lunch and a leisurely round of golf. but lately, it hasn't been the savory belgian waffles or your father’s golf swing you paid attention to.

it was jj maybank.

he worked at the club, weaving between tables with a natural ease that didn’t quite match the prim-and-proper atmosphere.

his sun-kissed blonde hair made you stare, and those striking blue eyes had a way of locking onto yours, making your breath hitch every time. he was so charming to you, always giving small compliments while still being respectful. his laugh was a carefree, warm sound that cut through the stuffy ambiance of the country club. his sleeves were always rolled up, revealing his strong arms that revealed his hours of hard work.

he intrigued you even more when your father convinced him to start coming to sunday services. knowing your dad, it probably involved a mix of persistence and his usual heartfelt assurances about redemption and second chances.

week after week, you’d catch jj in the back, sitting with his legs stretched out and his arms casually draped over the church pew. his blonde hair was always a little messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his blue eyes would flicker between the pastor and the stained-glass windows, half-listening, half-lost in thought.

he never dressed like the rest of the congregation—baggyish jeans, scuffed sneakers, and a plain t-shirt or flannel that clung to his lean, strong frame. he radiated that same effortless confidence you noticed, like he did not care if he belonged to the rest of the island.

and it was during those quiet moments after the service, when the congregation buzzed with small talk and your parents were busy greeting members, that he’d find you. his usual charm softened into something more genuine as he spoke to you, asking about the sermon or making quiet jokes about how out of place he felt.

those conversations became your favorite part of sunday mornings. because no matter how loud the room was, when jj talked to you, it felt like you were the only two people there.

jj would follow you and your family after the sermon to the country club to start his shift, and it became your routine to pick up your conversations where you’d left off. as he cleared the dishes or refilled glasses, he’d find ways to talk to you without drawing attention, his voice low and warm, meant only for you.

one afternoon, as he placed a plate of food down in front of you, you looked up at him with a curious smile. "so, what do you actually like to do when you're not working here?"

jj raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the question. "uh, well, i like to surf when I get the chance," he said, a bit of pride in his voice. "there's something about being out on the water, y'know?"

you nodded, intrigued. "that sounds amazing. i can’t imagine being that close to the water like that. do you ever get tired of it?"

he shook his head, his grin widening. "nah, it's my escape. and that makes sense, i mean, you seem like the type who’d rather stay inside with a movie or something."

you laughed, caught off guard by his accuracy. "yes, but that still sounds pretty great. do you do anything else when you're not surfing?"

"not much else, honestly," he said with a shrug. and although there was much more to his life, he wanted to keep it safe from the pastor's daughter and keep his responses calm. "i keep things simple."

"simple’s good," you replied, smiling softly.

he shot you a playful look. "maybe one day you’ll come out with me."

as the weeks passed, those fleeting conversations grew longer and deeper. jj would linger at your table longer than he should, finding excuses to bring extra bread or check on your drink. the walls between you began to crumble, piece by piece, as he opened up about his life and himself like his adventures with the pogues.

jj always noticed the innocence you emitted. that’s what caught him. it wasn’t just the way you smiled, soft and genuine, or how your eyes lit up when you talked about the things that mattered to you, it was something deeper.

there was a purity in you, an untouched quality that made him want to protect you from the world he knew too well. he’d never met anyone who looked at life the way you did, who could still believe in the good in people despite everything around them. he was drawn to it, to you, as if you were the last piece of light in a world that had grown too dark for him to believe in.

your kindness, your gentle nature, the way you saw the best in people, even in someone like him, it all pulled at him in ways he couldn’t explain. it made him feel like he was worth more than the life he’d led, more than the boy who’d always been on the edge of things, never quite fitting in. that innocence you emitted became his anchor, his reason to keep coming back, week after week. it was the thing that kept him hanging around after church, the thing that made him linger just a little too long at your table at the country club, always trying to get closer to you, hoping you’d let him into your world, even if it meant hiding the truth from everyone else.

the world you came from and the one jj lived in were not supposed to overlap. your father’s stern voice echoed in your mind every time jj’s hand brushed yours or his smile lingered just a little too long.

you hid your growing connection in stolen moments. behind the shelter of the church pews, in quiet corners of the country club, or during whispered phone calls late at night.

your relationship grew slowly, built on moments like that. jj loved the innocence you carried, the way you seemed to trust so easily and see the good in everything. and he never wanted to be the one to ruin that for you, no matter how much he wanted to be closer.

one evening, you felt your phone buzz and saw a text from jj.

jj: hey, how was ur day?

you smiled as you typed back.

y/n: it was good! pretty normal. church, the usual sunday stuff. how about u?

a few moments later, the phone buzzed again.

jj: same here. worked all day, but it wasn’t too bad. kinda nice, actually. got to clear my head

you leaned back, thinking about how calm he sounded in his text.

y/n: sounds like a good way to spend the day

jj: yeah, it’s peaceful. but honestly, i was just looking forward to talking to u. makes the day feel a little better

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you quickly typed back.

y/n: i’m glad u feel that way!! it’s always nice to hear from u

jj: same here. ur the best part of my day, u know that?

you smiled, your cheeks heating up.

y/n: you’re too sweet, jj. but it’s good to know we both feel the same

jj: goodnight angel

y/n: goodnight jj, talk soon?

jj: ofc, always

you smiled, setting your phone down, feeling a warmth spread through you. even after a simple conversation, everything seemed just a little bit brighter.

but you both knew the risks. when he’d brush past you in the hallway at church or linger a little too long at your table at the club, you’d glance around, paranoid that someone might notice. you hid it all—your stolen smiles, your quiet talks, the feelings that had grown into something undeniable.

"you’re worth all of it," jj told you one evening after a particularly close call with your dad. he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "the hiding, the waiting, all of it. you’re worth every second."

and no matter how much you tried to push it away, you knew you felt the same.

there you were, behind the church building, bells ringing. you and jj were in his truck, and you were sitting on top of him, amidst making out with him with his hands all over you.

you backed out, a small string of saliva falling from the connection of both your mouths and both your breaths ragged. you still felt jj's firm grip on your plump hips as well as his grope on your breasts and he was staring deeply into your eyes, hungry for your touch.

jj started to chuckle, and with a wide smirk on his face, said, "what's wrong angel? are you afraid we'll be caught?"

you exclaimed to hm, "yes, jayj! let's go inside before my parents wonder why i've been gone for so long!"

his grin only grew wider, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, amusement mixed with a hint of mischief.

"you’re really that worried, huh?" he teased, stepping closer as if testing the line between playful and too dangerous. he started to gently rub your clothed clit, making a wave of pleasure run through your body and a gentle whimper come out of your mouth. "worried that your parents will see that their sweet and beautiful daughter isn't as innocent as they thought?"

you shot him a nervous glance, your heart racing, knowing you both couldn’t afford to take the risk but at the same time, you felt heat rising through your body and wetness soaking through your panties. "stop it, we can’t," you whispered urgently, your voice shaking ever so slightly as you gently cup his face.

he chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the tension, "i want you all to myself..." he took a glance up and down your body, from admiring the way your hair wrapped around your face to the curve of your breasts out of your white dress to the plush thighs that were wrapped around him to the fresh pedicure on your toes through your short heels.

but his expression softened when he saw the seriousness in your eyes. "alright, alright," he said with a sigh and releasing his hands from your hips. "we’ll go inside. but i don’t plan on making this the last time."

"what are you going on about now?" you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"you know how tonight we plan to sneak me into your room? well, i'm just thinking about how we will continue this and how i'll be doing more than only this, angel."

you gave him a nervous smile, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to head back toward the building. you knew this was only the beginning, but how long you could keep the secret between the two of you was anyone’s guess.

taglist! - @purplerose291, @o0itsjustme0o, @gillybear17, @l1ttlesstar, @10ava01, @frankoceanluvr11, @mattyskies, @my-name-is-baby, @ironmakerperfection, @cherry-coloureddfunk, @hoelesslyt, @crazylady20, @itsyourmanjuno, @wtfdudesblog

[darkeralmond]

POOL BOY || J.F

Jeremiah Fisher x fem! Reader

synopsis: Y/N’s mother had an emergency meeting at the country club which leaves Y/N is home alone with the pool boy, Jeremiah. After working for hours with no breaks, you invite him to come inside to get some water.

warnings: smut 18+, oral sex, m! receiving, fem! receiving, fingering, praising

word count: 2.1k

A/N: I was scrolling on TikTok and a vid by @nick_grajeda popped up about them talking about their roleplay fantasies and one of them was pool boy. Jeremiah instantly came to mind so I went to working immediately. FIRST TIME I’VE WRITTEN SMUT IN FOREVER.

masterlist | request info

It was the middle of a hot July summer in Cousins. Your mom had important business to run at the country club down the road of your house, leaving you alone with your pool boy, Jeremiah Fisher.

He wasn’t a local like you. He only came during the summers with his family and family friends. Your mother hired him a few summers ago after she got the new position as head executive chef at the country club. For those past few summers he spent cleaning the pool, you’d watch as he did so occasionally sparking conversation here and there. He was older than you by a few months which fueled your desire to have him even more.

You convinced yourself that you wanted to be helpful and wash the dishes for your mother and father to come home to. There was a window right over the sink which overlooked the pool, so your helpful antics were only an excuse to watch Jeremiah as he worked.

He swept around the pool deck, getting rid of the dirt and leaves that fell from the trees that were planted right next to the pool for some reason. He had been out there for a couple hours just working. She knew he had to have been tired and hot from working in the direct sunlight for that long without a break. His white tank top had sweat stains on it due to him using the fabric as a towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

You knew this  was your chance to spark a conversation with him. You walked away from the sink and toward the sliding doors that lead out to the backyard. You walked out to your porch and leaned against the railing. “Jeremiah,” you called out to him. He didn’t even look up, he just kept sweeping, so you yelled a little louder. “Jeremiah!”

His head perked up and looked in your direction as he took an Airpod out of his ear. “Hey, Y/n!” He had a wide smile on his face. He lifted the sunglasses off his eyes and placed them on the top of his curly blonde hair. There were so many features of Jeremiah you loved, but your favorite had to either be his beautiful blue eyes that were the same color as the ocean. A close runner up was the dimples that appeared when he smiled.

“You’ve been working hard. You want to come in and get some water?” you asked, tilting your head. A slight breeze blew your hair back and caused your white skirt to ride up slightly, showing a glimpse of your upper thighs.

“Sure!” He placed the broom next to a poolside chair and made his way to the porch where you were. You smiled as you entered the kitchen and opened up the fridge. You grabbed an ice cold bottle of water and looked back at him.

He shut the door after he entered and used the bottom of his tank top to wipe his forehead again. This gave you a peak at his sun kissed abs. Your face flushed bright red as you took a quick glance at his stomach before looking away. You turned back around a second later hoping he hadn’t noticed you staring or your embarrassment. “Here you go!” You handed him his bottle, taking your time to admire his strong, lean arm muscles.

He thanked you before downing half of the water. The movement of his neck as he chugged. The water that dripped down his chin. It all felt too erotic for you to bear. You couldn’t stand to see him like this any longer. He placed the bottle back down on the kitchen island and wiped the excess water off his face with the back of his hand.

Most people when they sweat had an overbearing smell of body odor that oozed out of them. Not Jeremiah, he wasn’t like most people. He sweated the scent of his umber cologne, a nice mix of pine and musk, that mixed into an intoxicating aroma.

“Thanks for the water,” he said again, smiling at you. His mouth opened a little wider than it usually did and you could see one of his small canine teeth sticking out from underneath. You found yourself staring at his teeth for much too long. “Y/N?” Jeremiah tilted his head curiously. “Everything okay?” He sounded almost… concerned. You blinked and then realized that you must have zoned out and just stared at him like a creep.

You shook yourself mentally and tried not to look embarrassed, “Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry.” You turned around and focused on what dishes you needed to finish before your mom got home.

He sighed and ran his hands through his wet dark blond curls, pushing back the sweaty locks. “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “I don’t mind. I know my charm can be annoying sometimes.” He smiled softly and looked at you. You quickly glanced at him and blushed before turning back around and finishing the dishes.

‘How dare he say such things!’ You thought to yourself. You heard footsteps and turned your head to meet Jeremiah’s gaze. “I have a small question for you, Y/N.”  He raised a brow.

You nodded for him to ask his question. “What’s up?” you asked.

It was so quick you almost missed it. “Are you single?”

Your jaw dropped, “I am. What’s this about?” Did he really just ask me that? You thought as you struggled to keep the excitement off your face.

“Good,” he said, “because I’ve been wondering if you're ever gonna kiss me.”  Your jaw dropped more.

“Kiss you?!” you replied. “Why haven’t you asked me out yet?!”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I was kind of hoping you’d do it instead.” That was another thing you didn’t expect him to admit. You always assumed he wouldn’t give two shits if you did or didn’t ask him out. He seemed to be very confident and cocky that his charm would sweep you off your feet, but you weren’t sure how true his confidence was now.

You said, “Jeremiah-”

“You have no idea how much I want you, Y/N.”  He cut you off and stepped closer to you. Your heart began beating rapidly faster.

His eyes stared directly into yours. He was close enough you could feel his body heat emanating from him. His skin looked soft and tan compared to the pale complexion of the other men in Cousins. He was the best looking guy here, you were sure of it.

Without another thought, you said, “Prove it then.” Your voice was shaky. You hoped he would pick up on it. He smirked before leaning forward, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss, slowly moving to deepen it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely while his hands held onto your waist. You leaned up against the kitchen counter while you kissed. He tasted sweet like honey with the faint taste of mint. You parted your lips slightly allowing him to push a tongue inside your mouth to explore further. After a moment, you started to move your hips in response to the kiss, pressing yourself against his shaft and making him groan slightly.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath. “Jeremiah,” you whimpered quietly as you parted lips once more. His fingers dug into your hips lightly before gently running up your sides, resting at the skin underneath your skirt.

You felt him smirk into the kiss causing goosebumps to form across your skin. Your hips rolled harder against his body, feeling his erection poking through his boxers. You pulled away from the kiss and took in a deep inhale of air.

“Do you want to do this?” you asked. You knew you wanted this. You wanted Jeremiah.

“Yes.” He reached down, pulling his zipper down. You watched as his pants dropped to the floor revealing his erection.

You got down on your knees against the hard wooden floor and pulled back your hair. You wrapped your finger around the base, slowly stroking him. You licked the tip before sucking it into your mouth.

Jeremiah let out a low moan followed by a sharp intake of air as his grip tightened on your shoulders. “Please...” he whispered. You took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. Your tongue lapped at his engorged shaft. You took him deeper and faster with each stroke. “Slow down. I want this to last longer,” he begged.

You slowed your stroking pace like he had requested. You wanted to make him feel good, that was the whole point of a blow job. His fingers found themselves tasseled in your hair as groans escaped through his lips. Finally you heard his last groan before he met his climax in your mouth.

It hit the back of your throat causing you to cough and spit out his semen. “I’m sorry!” He immediately apologized.

You laughed, wiping the substance off your face. “You’re okay! Just shocked me.” You grabbed the water he was drinking earlier and drank some to get the flavor out of your mouth.

Jeremiah grabbed a towel from a drawer and wiped himself clean before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. He cleaned up the spot where you spit out his cum. “Now I wanna treat you right,” he said.

Your eyes widened as you met his. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“Like I said; I want to show you how serious I am.” He smirked before reaching out his hand to touch your cheek. “How about you get nice and comfortable on the island counter.”

You giggled before walking towards the island and climbing up onto it. The cool surface of the granite top felt soothing against your heated skin. “Okay.” You sat down facing him.

Jeremiah stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your thighs. He spread them open and brought his hands up your skirt. He grabbed a hold of the hem of your panties and slid them down. You bucked your hips to help him slip them off easier.

When they were off, he placed his head between your legs and took a couple licks at your clit. As he sucked on it gently, you closed your eyes and moaned loudly. It felt so good you wished you could stay here forever.

Your fingers found themselves gripping onto his golden curls. You pressed him closer to you in a desperate manner. Your head tilted back to look at the hanging light above you. Your breath hitched when he suddenly slipped one of his large fingers inside of you.

You were so wet that his finger slid in with ease. You gripped onto the edges of the counter tightly as you bit your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from moaning out loud. “That feels so good, Jeremiah. Please don’t stop.”

He curled his finger inside you. “I know it does.” he replied in between quick strokes. The sensation was intense. You moaned louder as he made slow, circular movements with the tip of his warm, wet tongue. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, unable to keep them open any longer.

You accidentally knocked the paper towel roller off the counter. “Mmmm! Oh god, Jeremiah.” You felt your breathing become heavier. Your heartbeat was rapid, your mind clouded with lust, and all of your emotions were overwhelming your senses as you reached your peak.

You screamed his name out as you came undone completely. “Jesus Christ.” You panted heavily, trying desperately to regain your breath and calm your erratic heart.

He grinned smugly after hearing you scream his name, he pulled his face away from between your legs. You gazed into his blue eyes and saw lust there, but there was a hint of something else. Pure admiration.

After catching your breath, he stood upright and removed his fingers from your pussy. You were in disbelief that you just had sex with Jeremiah Fisher. It felt like a lucid dream.

You pulled your panties back up and hopped off the counter. You were in desperate need for a shower, but you didn’t want to wash Jeremiah's touch off your body. “So uh… do I need to give you a tip for your extra services?” You asked with a giggle.

“No because that would be prostitution,” he tapped the tip of your nose with his clean finger before walking over to the sink and began washing his hands.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the dirty towel off the table. You began walking up the stairs. “I really enjoyed that.” You leaned over the railing.

Jeremiah smiled, “We should do that more often. Maybe we can try it on your bed next time.” You laughed as you continued running up the stairs.

[mayaflowerxs]

THE HOT BABYSITTER

Synopsis: Being untrusted, you are stuck in a rowdy house as your younger siblings are being babysat with the hottest guy you’ve ever met. Irritated by how loyal he is, you wonder how long he will last before he cracks upon the little game you’re playing on him.

Warning: Smut / Angst / Fluff. Swear word usage, Babysitter!Mark x Troublemaker!reader. Cheating, jealousy, alcohol consumption, virgin!Mark, Bratty!Reader, creampie, oral, kinda long sorry!

DOYOUNG

Masterlist: NCT AFFAIR SERIES

Pairing: Mark x f!reader

You didn’t understand what was the big deal. So what if you threw a huge party at your house? So what it got a little crazy and the night ended with over 10,000 dollars worth of damage repair? It’s not like you haven’t thrown countless of parties before. But yet something about this one had tipped your parents over the edge. After hours upon hours of them shouting in your ear about how irresponsible you were being, to have recklessly thrown a party with that many people whom you knew could care less about the thousands of dollars worth of property they were about to destroy. Especially with your little brothers in the other room most likely locked there as they watch their Paw Patrol. But it’s not like anyone got hurt,

That’s if you didn’t count that one jock who jumped from your roof into the pool and broke his ankle..

But much to your parents disagreement, they had enough of your scandals. Which is how you were left standing in front of your biggest most terrible punishments of all time. Stuck with a babysitter, and not just any. No you’d be stuck having Mark Lee, one of the most uptight and nerdiest boy you’ve gone to school with. And to watch him push up his glasses and give you a once over, you knew the next six months will be absolute hell for you.

And hell it was.

For the first few weeks were nothing but awkward silences. Your glaring constantly piercing through Mark’s skull but he pretended to not notice. And each time he approached you, he was quick to take a step back when he met your angered eyes. You simply couldn’t believe your parents could do this to you. Have they not known you at all? You can’t associate yourself with losers like him, and if everyone were to find out he’s your babysitter and not just for your brothers…forget it. Your reputation is toasted. You can’t truly say you know Mark but you’ve been attending to the same school as him for over all of your primary years.

Mark isn’t as special like the other kids in your grade. Just like everyone else in private school, he also comes from wealth. Parents much like yours spend most of their time traveling and little to no time actually parenting. Privileged to many opportunities that’ll kick start him a successful future, one that many lower class citizens have to work thrice as hard to achieve. He joined many clubs and has won many medals and certificates. Even being valedictorian, difference between him and other student’s like you were simple. He actually cared to make a name for himself. To put in that work so he’d be recognized for his achievements and not for his family’s name. He wasn’t you who didn’t care whether you were actually passing your classes or not knowing your parents would pay the school to keep quiet and pass you. It’s how you even graduated high school, and even got accepted to the top most prestigious school in all of the country. But not Mark, no he worked hard to get in and refused any sort of help from his parents.

Which is exactly why your parents hired him. At the age of fourteen Mark got his first ever job at an ice cream parlor. Buying himself his own clothes, gadgets and even his first ever car although, his parents did pay for more than half of it he was just convinced he bought it all without no help. Along with being a scholar he chose to do volunteer work and has given himself quite a name around town. The golden boy, to the adults he could do no wrong. To the elders, he’s an angel sent from above, to the kids he’s an idol but to the teenagers who actually grew up with him. They can only think of two words, kiss ass. There’s not much of any actual reason why he’s hated just simply for the fact that he’s such a rule follower, never wants to have any fun and takes his responsibilities very seriously. It’s even worse that now he’s apart of the Dean, most worry to speak about things in case he might be listening and report them.

Which concludes to the very last thing, you also go to to the same top most prestigious school in all of the country. And although you couldn’t even think of his name the second he came in view of you until he introduced himself, he on the other hand knew yours the second he saw you. Y/n y/l/n, most popular girl in school since the first grade. Have gotten detention and suspended for various reasons all of which are very ridiculous. You never take anything serious and much rather cause havoc than to study. You’re everything he would never look for in a girl. And glad he doesn’t have you for a sister or who knows how crazy you’d make him. But he chose to work for your family, he chose to babysit not only your brothers but you. And that’s something he doesn’t plan on backing out no matter how determined you are to make him go insane. Insane enough for him to quit.

“Uh where are you going..?” Had currently been busy playing with your brothers, the youngest merely two years old in his lap. Mark’s head perks up at the sound of heels clicking on the stairs, descending down and there you stood wearing a tight but very revealing black dress. “You look pretty sis.” Your eight year old brother, Iseul tells you, winking at him and sending him a soft smile. You grab your purse nearest the door. “Out.” Completely taken aback, Mark gets on his feet and rests your baby brother next to Iseul. Rushing out the door after you, he stops you before you can enter your car. Having it suddenly closed before you can fully open it, you raise your brow at the man standing before you. “Can i help you?” “Im sorry, i guess you must’ve not been made aware that you are currently grounded?” “No I know:”

“Oh…you do.” Rolling your eyes you push him to the side and go to open the door again only for it to be closed shut once more. “Then am I right to assume that you’re then simply disobeying your parents orders.” “And what those might be?” “Oh I don’t know…no cellphone.” He takes your phone out of your hand, “No keys to the car.” He takes those too and lifts his hand as you go to grab them. “And most definitely no going outside. Now let’s get back inside so that you can go change.” Scoffing you smack his hand and take a step back. “Look here Mark, don’t try to get all high and mighty simply because you work for my parents. How about you focus on actually doing your job and take care of my brothers.” “I am doing my job, I’m looking after you. And rules say you can’t go out.” He goes to grab your arm again but as he tries to walk the two of you inside you, don’t budge. Feet planted to the ground, like a child about to throw a tantrum you shake your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a sigh, Mark shoves your phone and keys in his back pocket. “Alright then, have it your way.” “Thank you, now as soon as you hand me back my - HEY!” Thrown over his shoulder, lifted off the ground you smack Mark’s back in protest. “Put me down you asshole!” Thrashing and squirming but to no avail, the boy had a tight grip on you and he wasn’t planning on letting you go until you were inside. Door locked behind him, he finally does set you down. “Now do you want to be a good big sister and hang out with your little brothers? If so go upstairs and change, we’ll be waiting for you.” “God you’re so damn annoying!” Stomping your way up to the stairs, Mark hears the loud slam of your bedroom door and sighs in relief. He’s been stern before, being serious for most of his life has its benefits but never did he think he’d have to act such a way towards you. The popular girl he’s attended school with.

For years he’d watched you from a far. He always wondered how you could live your life without any care. While you had practically the whole school stuck to your side, he was a loner. Sat by himself, worked by himself and ate by himself. He didn’t mind though, to you he didn’t exist but to him, you were like a celebrity. Even though he didn’t care about what you were up to, it was almost impossible to go anywhere without hearing the latest news about you. He assumed you’d hit your peak after high school but three years had passed and if anything you’ve gotten even more popular! Truly it’s as if you really were a celebrity. You’ve gotten your face on multiple magazine covers and even have a social media account with almost half a million followers. Even now he still finds it hard to believe he’s actually babysitting you.

Minutes had passed since your tantrum and he has yet to see you come down the stairs. Maybe you were taking your time to change, maybe you fell asleep or chose to stay in your room. A part of him felt bad, it was his job. Strict orders from your parents to not let you out of the house, it’s not like he can disobey them. So with a plate of cookies he had freshly made for your brothers, he makes his way over to your room. A soft knock but not a response from you is heard. “Y/n? Can i come in?” Another soft knock but to no avail, not a single response. Man you must really be mad at him. With a disappointed sigh, he opens the door and begins to speak. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier…” Room empty, he sets the plate of cookies down. “Y/n?” Looking around, he noticed the bathroom light on and door slightly opened. “Y/n?” No sight of you, but the window had been opened. And as he nears it, he looks out and sees there have been a ladder that would lead straight down to the ground.

“Damn it.”

You finally managed to arrive at the party, albeit late. But the second you enter you grin to hear everyone quick to greet you. You were the life of the party and as they proceed to hand you red solo cups of hard liquor in it you were quick to accept them. “Where the hell have you’ve been?” Many always asked you, and with a shrug you wave them off. “Annoying rules my parents implemented.” Knowing where you come from they nod, “Alright who’s ready to have some fun!” You clap your hands that follow by a chorus of cheers. At some point the time had slipped past your mind, focused on taking shots of tequila and playing games such as beer pong. It wasn’t until you had fruit punch all over your dress did it cause a pause in your time of fun. “The hells wrong with you dickhead?” The boy widens his eyes and stutters out an apology. “I’m s-so s-sorry!” Glaring at him as girls hand your napkins and try to get the juice out of your expensive dress. The jocks near you get in the poor boys face. “Who the hell invited him?” One whispered not too subtly. “God what a loser.” Another says. “I’m sorry hun this is only going to get stained how about if you try to wash it with some water?” One of your friends say, “we can follow you.” “No it’s alright, besides I think I need some air.” Walking off and heading towards the bathroom which happened to be nearest to the front door, you definitely are taken by surprise when you’re suddenly come face to face with none other than Mark himself. Which you have to admit, looks pretty pissed off.

“Mark?”

“I see you’ve gotten yourself pretty comfortable huh?” He tilts his head at you, jaw clenched and brows crunched. Just behind you were the jocks that had busied themselves and kicking out the poor bastard that spilled the fruit punch all over your dress. “Hey y/n who’s this loser?” They nudge your shoulder. Eyes slightly widening, you glance between them and Mark and see he’s about to open his mouth. No way can they know about yours and Mark’s embarrassing situation. “Oh! You know scoring myself another point!” The guys gain a smirk on their faces, leaving a confused Mark in front of you. “What ? --“ Completely unprepared for you to suddenly cup his face and smash your lips on top of his, you push him up against the wall. Suddenly there’s a loud chorus of cheers and wolf whistles around you. Mark had tried to push you off him. Hands at your waist but to the crowd now growing around you, it seemed as if the golden boy has finally loosened up a little.

“Hell yeah! Hey get out of the bathroom and give these two some privacy!” One dude shouted and aired out the bathroom. Pulling away, you quickly grab Mark’s hand and drag him inside the bathroom with you. Closing and locking the door shut, you sigh in relief. Only to turn around and see a very flustered looking boy. Red in the face and chest slightly heaving from having to take deep breaths. “Oh relax virgin it’s not like we’re actually going to do something in here.” Frowning once more, he clears his throat and stands up straight. “I’m not a virgin.” Sending him a look, brow slightly lifted he scoffs and shakes his head. “Okay and so what?”

“Wow never thought you’d actually admit that.” He widens his eyes and struggles to come up with something. “Well…uh…this isn’t about me anyways!” Nodding you pursue your lips and hum. Turning on the sink and attempt to wash off the stained dress. “This is about you! And what you’ve done! You disobeyed me! You disobeyed your parents and most of all you kissed me without my consent!” Chuckling you roll your eyes and turn to look at him. “Consent? It was just a kiss you’re making it seem like I stole your first kiss or something.” When there’s silence in the bathroom other than the muffled loud music blaring from outside your jaw is dropped. “No way!” “Shh! It’s not a big deal.” He mumbles almost embarrassed. Smiling look an idiot, it only irritated Mark and soon the scowl is brought back completely.

“What is a big deal is what’s going to happen to you once you come home.” “Oh?” Your voice raises a pitch. “Get your head out of the gutter.” Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Oh please I’m just messing with you, don’t flatter yourself so much you wouldn’t be someone I’d go for anyways.” As much as Mark tried to not be bothered by your comment, he couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of hurt. Ouch. It’s silent momentarily, and Mark watched as you struggle to take off the stain. “Let’s go,” “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re not the boss of me.” “Keep staying here and that stain will never come off.” “It’ll come off.” Beginning to scrub harder, Mark sees you’re only making it worse. With a sigh, he stops your hand. “Come home and I’ll take off the stain.” “You know how?” “I am a man of many talents.” Eyeing him, you notice how serious he was being. So with a grunt you turn off the faucet, Mark about ready to open the bathroom door you stop him.

“Wait!” With a confused look and eyes silently questioning you what, he nervously gulps and takes a small step back when he sees you get much closer to him. “They’ll notice something’s up if you look normal.” Ruffling his hair and unbuttoning his shirt he goes to pull your hand away when you smack it way. “Relax virgin just play the damn part if you want to leave this damn party faster.” With a gruff, he allows you, watching silently as you turn on the faucet and wet your hands. “Seriously?” He asks you when you’re suddenly dampening his forehead with water to make it appear as sweat. “One last thing.” You lift a finger at him, he watched you take your lipstick out of your purse. Apply it on your lips, eyes widening like saucers when you get close to him, “Woah! Okay I don’t think-“ wincing when you suddenly step on his foot. His crouched state gives you the opportunity to attach your lips on his neck and with one big smooch there lied the large red print of lips shining brightly on his skin.

“Ok now lets go you big baby.” “Hey how come you still look normal?-“ “Shh be quiet!” And suddenly the door is opened and out you walk as if you had infact shagged with the school’s biggest nerd. Immediately engulfed with cheers and even more whistles as they noticed the proud smile on your face, and even more when they see the state Mark was in when he walked out. Never did Mark feel so embarrassed in his life, and just as you’re about to get wrapped up in your friend group to talk about all the juicy details, Mark had quickly gotten a hold of your waist and redirected you over to the door. “See y’all later!” You wave with a wink and as the two of you leave, another loud wave of yells are heard from inside. With an annoyed look on his face and eyes rolled, Mark walks the two of you over to his black BMW. Had just closed the door, he looks over to see you with a grin on your face. “Drop the grin you’re still getting it when you get home.” “Ooh kinky-“. “Out of the gutter y/n!”

Mark had in fact kept his word and soon what was six months of being grounded was up to eight months! Now you truly despised Mark. “You should be more like Mark!” You parents scolded you. But it was all the same thing over and over again. Mark being a respectable figure in town, how he’s very influential and responsible and you should be more like him. You just never would have guessed that you’d now be punished by joining Mark’s side in all of his boring activities. “No way.” Mark shrugs his shoulders and nods. “Too bad, now go get dressed or we’ll be late for the annual deep clean event.” You couldn’t believe it, not only did you have to suck up to the fact that he’s your babysitter but now you actually had to hang out with him? Truly the world hated you.

Despite all your protests unfortunately you had no choice but to be stuck with a hundred other people including Mark to pick up trash around the town’s lake. A grossed out look on your face each time you have to pick up some smelly old litter, especially when it’s sticky and slimy. Groaning when the black trash bag refuses to open properly and getting some of the trash to touch you. “I cant!” You drop the stick and bag. “Oh c’mon y/n, there’s only an hour left.” “An hour?!” You say in disbelief. “It’s not that bad.” Mark tries to reason but the small grin on his face is enough for you to understand he’s taking pleasure in all of this. “Screw you mark.” “Thought you said I’m not your type?” He chuckles as your suddenly throwing your bag at him, dodging it merely. “Come here!” And soon the rest of the group who’d actually been busy cleaning up the park, turn to look at the two of you running around like maniacs. The retractable stick in your hand as you chase after Mark who’s much too fast for you.

On your phone and moaning at the fact that your friends had currently gone on a shopping spree and to the beach. You on the other hand stuck sitting on a very uncomfortable beach chair. The closest to feeling as if you were at the beach you’d ever get. A large umbrella above you but even that can’t stop the terrible heat engulfing you. Bored completely out of your mind as you had no other choice but to be forced to attend one of Iseul’s soccer games. “Thought I said no cellphone.” Your phone is suddenly snatched from the boy you’ve grown used to being stuck to your side every damn second of the day. Eyes rolled you scoff up at him before noticing his appearance. In shorts and a black tight tank top. You noticed just how toned he was. Wow. Was this really the nerd that had been babysitting you? Snapping out of it, you clear your throat. “You have my other one, I had no choice but to get a new one-“ as you go to reach for it, he pulls it away. “Well then I guess you’re going without two phones now.” “Oh c’mon Mark I have been doing literally everything with you! Please give me a break!”

“This is a break. You’re not here for me, you’re here for your younger brother now be a good big sister and watch the game.” “The game hasn’t even begun yet, I’ve been stuck having to watch a bunch of eight year olds do the exact same lap over and over and over again. Besides where the hell is their coach?”

“You’re speaking to him.” Sitting up straight, you tilt your head at him in confusion. “You?…their coach?” “Yes? …is that so hard to believe?” Eyeing him, you shake your head. “No…” Definitely didn’t come off as the sports kinda guy but eh can’t judge a book by its cover. “Game will start soon, I better see you paying attention.” He points his fingers at his eyes and sends them over to you, jogging off to join his team as the opposing ones have started to enter the field. “Not like I had anything better to do.” You sigh sadly. Eventually as the game started, you had surprised yourself the more you grow to be a lot more interested in the game than you thought you would. So much you yelled just as much as the soccer moms had. Yelling out demands to pass the ball to the other teammates. Cursing at the referee when he held up yellow cards for no reason —in your opinion given your brothers team can simply do no wrong. And at some point almost caused a fight with one of the kids father from the opposing team.

Even having Mark come up to separate the two of you. “Okay!..” he says with an awkward chuckle, forcing a smile so that no one’s moods begin to turn sour. Walking you back over to your seat, he lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “When I said to pay attention I didn’t mean to start a fit-“ “BUT HE-“ standing infront of you and gesturing for you to take a seat, when you do he crouched down. Hands on your knees as he whispers to you. “I know he was being an ass,” “Thank you!” “But for your brothers sake, please keep your cool? Mmh?” With a huff, you exhale and nod. “Fine.” “Good girl.” He softly pinches your chin and stands to return back to his side of the field. Shocked, you feel slightly bothered at the way you felt by his actions. Why it made your stomach turn and heart palpitate who knows? And yet as the game continued you couldn’t help but notice just how focused Mark was as well. Yelling out words of encouragement, brows scrunched as he demands the kids some orders for them to follow.

Something about this side of Mark had you feeling bothered. So much you even had to cross your legs to keep yourself calm. “Get your head out of the gutter.” You tell yourself as you smack your head. Thankfully you manage to ignore the growing feeling inside you, your brother ended up scoring the winning goal and at last the game ended. Just as Mark’s about to give Iseul a hug and a congratulations- when he’s rudely shoved to the side. And instead, you’re the one engulfing your little brother in a big bear hug. “You did so good!” You jump in excitement as your brother joins you with a large grin plastered on his face. Seeing the wholesome interaction, Mark forgets the fact that you so rudely pushed him. “Congratulations champ, how about we go celebrate, the three of us?”

To say you were gaining feelings for your babysitter would be hard for you to accept. You were in denial, there was no way you were actually catching feelings for Mark Lee, the ultimate prissy nerd. Heck if it wasn’t for your current situation with him you sure as hell would not ever associate yourself with him. And yet here you were, making pastries with him alongside your little brothers. In the backyard playing tag and hide and seek with them. In the living room binge watching kids movies and even listening in on Mark’s story telling. Heck at some point you even shushed your brother when he interrupted him, “I wanna hear what happens next!” But it seems like catching feelings weren’t the only problem brewing up. Word got around of how much time you’ve been spending with Mark and soon rumors had gotten around that you were apparently dating him!

You denied them, but you could only say so much when there’s just so many pictures of the two of you together. Especially when those of you two getting ice cream together spread around campus. Completely ignoring the fact that your little brother was there and it had been when he won his game. After the whole ordeal at the party, many were certain you were screwing him and some even spoke to you asking how the biggest goodie two shoes was like in bed, and how big he was. It was hard to deny it all without causing suspicion as to why you’re even hanging out with him in the first place and not get exposed for being babysat by him. And unfortunately as much as you began to like the guy, you felt as if you had no choice but to go along with the public’s general assumption.

That you were screwing him.

“WHAT?!”

“Oh relax Mark it’s not anything bad.” “Anything bad? Y/n you do know you’re basically pimping me out?” Tilting your head, you squint your eyes and hum. “Not exactly sure how that is.” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and paces around the living room. “Look y/n Im not like you, I don’t go around recklessly and start spreading rumors.” “Hey it’s not like I did it intentionally. “I don’t care! I have an image to uphold!” “And so do I!” Getting off the couch you walk over to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Stop thinking so negatively Mark and think of the bright side. If you go along, no one will know you babysit..me. And therefore I get to keep my reputation.” “I don’t see how it benefits me.”

“I wasn’t finished!” Huffing he crosses his arms and waits for you to continue. “While you can build your image.” Sending you a look to explain, you huff annoyedly. “C’mon Mark don’t make me spell it out. You’re a…” still not getting it, he tilts his head slightly at you. “Mark you’re a loser.” Groaning he goes to move away from you but you stop him. “But that’s okay! Because it seems like every kid and senior in town likes you!” “Is that suppose to make me feel better?” “Look, it seems like every person our age doesn’t like you but! If you play along, I’ll get everyone to respect you.”

“Why should I care if they respect me or not. You don’t.” “Yeah but that’s because I don’t care, they on the other hand only ever seen this pathetic, sad, lonely, nerdy-“ “Get to the point.” “…side of you. Go along, and I promise you’ll go from being known as the prissy golden boy to the man everyone wants to be. And who knows, you’ll get so popular top companies and businesses will be begging you to join their team.” You notice the gears shifting in his head, hearing out your words and it seems as if he likes what he hears.

“No Im sorry.” Groaning you stomp your foot as you seem to become desperate for his help. “Oh just do it!” “No!” “Why not? Are you really that morally superior to everyone that you can’t even go along with some white lie?” “White lie? Y/n do you know what can happen to me if your parents found out about this so called rumor? Besides I have people I need to consider.”

“Yeah like who?” He goes to answer but closes his mouth at the last second, whoever he was about to say he changed his mind in outing them. Instead he sighs frustratedly and shakes his head. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you, now can you please just tell everyone the truth? Or at least that it’s not true? Please y/n.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you still had a lot in you to argue with him but seeing the tired look on his face you felt almost bad to even think about forcing him into this situation. So with a disgruntle you nod your head. “Alright fine.”

By the next day, the usual qna about your current relations with Mark quickly engulfed you. Your group of friends sitting on a table bench as they gossip about the latest news. As you near them, they are quick to wave their hands at you to come quick. “What’s up?” “Y/n you whore!” They gawk at you with grins on their faces. “I didn’t think you were such a dare devil!” Slightly lost you stand in front of the bench as you watch them all begin to speak over one another with laughs and excitement written all over their faces. “What do you mean?” “Oh please!” You feel Ten who sat closest to you lightly shove you. “Don’t play dumb with us. So how did she react?” “How did who react?” “Maru your biggest enemy duh?”

Now truly you were left utterly confused. You hadn’t heard that name in forever. Maru and you hadn’t really gotten on well given the two of you always fought the title of the most popular girl in school. Just by that, the school always pinned the two of you against each other and while you did try to befriend her. Many bored lowlifes spread false rumors of you trash talking her and she bought it and since then has tried to make your life a living hell. Since you graduated you hadn’t heard from her and even assumed she left the country, you never bothered to keep up with the latest news of her which is why it’s so shocking to you as to how she’s suddenly coming up in conversation again. Your friends could see the look of confusion and it’s when it’s dawned on them that you had in fact not known about the truth.

“Oh hun, do you not know?” “Know about what?”

“About Maru and Mark?” What? When you don’t respond back, they’re about to explain when suddenly there’s a loud shout. “You bitch!” Turning around and seeing the crazed look on none other than your arch nemesis herself, you notice how fast she was making her way over to you. Swinging her hand and goes to slap you, luckily your friends had been quick to intervene. Still frozen in your spot, like a deer caught in headlights you watch as her hysteria was beginning to gain the attention of the other students around campus. “You’re that damn pathetic that the only way to one up me was to sleep with my boyfriend?” Boyfriend? “Relax pimples.” Ten tells her as he forced her back. “That was one time!” She yells at him before turning her attention back to you. “You’re a damn slut! And unless you want the entire world to know that I suggest you stay the hell away from my man!”

Shoving them off her, she brushes herself off and storms off. You couldn’t help but feel humiliated, angered that she came and told you off. To walk off as if she won that argument? To have the whole campus to stare at you with some sort of judgment as if they know you? Who the hell does she think she is?

“Well I guess we’re even then!” This causes her to freeze. “What did you just say?” Scoffing, you shake your head and eye her. “Did you really think I wasn’t aware of you hooking up with Jeno while we were dating? Or how you flung yourself like a needy bitch to Jaemin when we were seeing each other?” Whispers and ooh’s can be heard, face heating up with embarrassment as she didn’t expect for you to have known. “I get it, it’s too hard to compete with me so you settle with my scraps. No need to be ashamed.” Hands in fists, you were sure to almost see some smoke coming out of her ears. “It seems almost fair if I repay you back.” Scoffing she bites the inside of her cheek. “No.”

Digging in her pocket, her hand is in there for some time before she pulls it out. “See that’s where you go wrong because even when you tried to take my man you still failed.” Showing you her hand, your smirk falls to see the shiny diamond ring glimmer on her finger. “Expect an Insta post of our wedding soon.” She grins before walking off. Upon seeing the ring you couldn’t deny you felt your heart drop. Not only was Mark dating someone, your arch nemesis at that but he was getting married? Does she know exactly what your situation with him is? If so then your toast, but as she walks off and your friends come to comfort you, you mute the world around you. You could only think of that damn ring on her finger. She’s engaged to Mark.

The Mark you’ve grown so closed to in the last few months.

The same boy you couldn’t handle being in the same vicinity with and never even once saw as your type.

The same boy you gradually began to grow feelings for. Mark is engaged with Maru, your Mark.

Oh hell no.

Mark was quick to apologize when you told him about your encounter with his fiancée. “I had no idea she’d do such a thing.” “I would’ve had I known…” you grumble. “Did she hurt you?” He asks and gets closer to inspect your face. Feeling yourself getting hot again by the proximity you shake your head and move away from him. “I’m fine, just shocked it’s all. Never pegged you to be the dating kinda guy given how serious you are about your work life. And when she flashed me that large Diamond in my face, wow.” You couldn’t help but feel jealous about the whole ordeal. You tried to not let it be known, but the frown on your face, the wrinkles on your forehead and the serious expression on your face also lets not forget the fact that you refuse to even look him in the eyes was making it impossible to not raise some suspicion.

But at least Mark hadn’t noticed. “Yeah…I tried to keep my private life, private.” Nodding you pursed your lips and take a sip of the freshly made lemonade Mark had prepared. “Look if it makes you feel any better she doesn’t know about…us.” “Us?” You say slightly coughing on the lemonade. “Yeah how I babysit you and all. She just knows I look after ‘some kids’.” Nodding you set down the glass and make your way over to him. “Good, it’d be a bit unfortunate if she saw those pictures of us.” “Pictures?” Humming, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Arms at his sides as he gulps nervously. “It would crush her to see how coupley we look together.” You can hear how he slightly holds his breath when your face leans in. “Especially when we walked out of that bathroom, remember how you looked?” Walking off and leaving him hot and flustered you make your way to your bedroom thinking of the ways you can make that boy yours.

Mark was in fact a guy with high morals. One of them being faithful to his fiancée. Since you heard about the unfortunate news, you’ve been coming onto him a lot more strongly. So much that Mark can’t even be in the same room as you without getting flustered. Face turns red the second he catches sight of you. He has tried to be respectful and put his distance but you seem to always come back. And when he finally sat you down to speak to you formally about the situation he made it clear, that he only had eyes for Maru. And boy did that piss you off.

“You must really love her.” You dare say, teeth gritting and hands digging into the stool cushion underneath you. “I really do, i mean yeah we haven’t been dating for long but I do think there’s chemistry.” “How long have you two been going out?” “Two months.” Oh? If there was one thing you knew about Maru was that much like you, commitment gave her the ultimate ick. And if she were to settle, it’s because she truly has fallen for that boy. To hear they’ve only been together for two months and now engaged? There was a motive and you felt as if you knew exactly what that was. “Mark do you have some sort of trust fund from your parents?” Taken by surprise by the sudden question, “Uh…my grandparents left me all of their fortune to me if that’s what you mean? But I can’t get into it until I’ve gotten married.”

“Uh huh yeah and uh when you proposed…would you per say have been persuaded to propose?” “What do you mean?” Shrugging you stand up from your stool and slowly make your way over to him. “Oh I don’t know, like have you been given hints by your fiancée that she wanted to get married. Probably talked about how soon she’d like to be a young bride, or even…” running a finger up his bicep, goosebumps appear on his skin. Standing just behind him, “was told by Maru herself, that she’d like for you two to get married?” After a moment of silence he speaks up, “Uh yeah, she did. Why? Do you think-“ “Oh no of course not! If you say she loves you and you love her I have no reason to doubt.” You wave him off but you see the concern on his face. “Don’t worry Mark she would never go for your money I mean she is rich herself.” He nods and laughs, “Well yeah that is true.” “Right so relax!” Hearing the loud feet patter coming from upstairs was an indication for Mark to go check up on the young boy. Watching him excuse himself and climb up the stairs, you take out your phone you have managed to sneak out of your parents drawers.

“Guess it’s time to do some digging..”

Mark didn’t expect to spend yet another Friday the exact same way as he did the first week he began working for your family. To have to call the neighbors and see if they can look after your brothers as he busied himself running after you who has run off to some party. Only this time he caught you right outside the lawn of the large house. “Oh good you’re here!” “C’mon let’s go home I left your brothers at-“ Not expecting for you to have grabbed his hand and proceed to drag him inside, he tries to plant his feet on the ground but you were freakishly strong by the way you dragged him. “Y/n-“ “You’re so tensed, have some fun will ya?” “I don’t know if you realize but I’m currently on the job.” Rolling your eyes, you grab a cup and fill it with fruit punch that was in a large clear bowl. “Here it’ll help you relax.” Taking it, he eyes it and looks down at you. “Does this contain alcohol?” “Oh my god, don’t tell me you don’t drink.” You huff, scoffing he shakes his head. “Yes I do.” “Prove it then. Drink.” Looking down at the weird purple vibrant liquid, he looks over to you and noticing more people had gathered to watch him drink. And when he finally does bring it to his mouth and sip, he hears the kitchen immediately erupt in cheers. Feeling hands patting his back and some on his shoulder as they congratulate him for not being such a stuck up.

Wincing at the hard sting at the back of his throat, he’s given no time when suddenly he’s being dragged to play some games. Heard quick to look for you only to see you had been right behind him with a smirk on your face. Before he can object, you pull him down by the neck and whisper in his ear. “Just enjoy it.” But to everyone it seemed like the two of you were getting touchy. “For me?” You bat your eyes at him. With a grunt of disapproval he agrees reluctantly. But soon, it would all become too chaotic for him. Before he’d know it, it would no longer just be any regular ole beer pong but instead comes with dares. Such as body shots. “Body shots?” He asks with furrowed brows. His eyes slowly widening when it dawns on him as soon as women try to undress themselves. “Uh…y/n!” But you had been too busy taking shots of your own. “C’mon man pick which girl you’d like to take body shots with!” One jock shouts through the loud music. Looking around and feeling crowded as they keep coming onto them with seductive looks and breasts purposefully pushed higher for him to see, he backs up until finally he hurriedly gets away from them and takes a hold of you.

In the midst of taking yet another shot of tequila, Mark takes it out of your hands. Groaning, you’re about to scold him and remind him he was meant to be having fun. Never once expecting for him to prop you on the table with him in between your legs. “What is happening?” He sends you a soft smile and a sorry look. “It’s a dare?” Shrugging, you take off your shirt. Ignoring the screams as more phones are brought out and begin to snap pictures of the two of you, others recording. “Then you better make it worth my while.” And soon, a lemon and shot of vodka. He’s focused on licking all the way up from your stomach to your breasts. The feeling of his warm wet tongue had you feeling all funny and tingling. A very familiar feeling that you can’t mistaken it for anything other than hormones. More cheers are heard, words of encouragement as they chanted Mark’s name. Throwing your head back when you feel him lightly rub against you during his attempt at sucking all of the lemon off you. It wasn’t until he pulls away, hair slightly disheveled and eyes boring into yours do you feel the suffocating tension ridden between you two. His arms on either side of you, you didn’t know what came over you.

But you didn’t care, hands quickly cupping his face. You pull him close and kiss him hungrily. You were sure you saw phones flashing even when your eyes were closed. But what you hadn’t expect was for Mark to kiss you back. You weren’t really sure if it was because of the alcohol or if he had truly been kissing you because he wanted to. But a part of you was too horny to care. As soon enough, the two of you had been shoved into the nearest closet. Mouth back against one another, your fingers in his hair. Tugging his head back ever so slightly that caused rumbles to erupt from his throat. Legs wrapped around his waist as he held you up. Moaning when his hands squeezed your ass. But soon Mark pulls away, “m’no y/n this is wrong.” He sighs and rests his forehead against yours. Setting you down, his hands go to your waist. About to move you away from him but you only keep your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “What is it that she has that I don’t?” Shaking his head, “That’s not it-“ “Then what is? Tell me you don’t want me Mark.”

You push him up against the wall. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me the same way I have been thinking about you.” “Y/n please.” Caressing a finger over his cheek, you notice him close his eyes and slightly lean into your touch. “Tell me.” A small whine leaves his mouth when your hand roams down and palms his now tight jeans. A large tent forming in his pants, “Tell me Mark.” He shakes his head, “I can’t...” he breathes out, you press soft kisses to his cheek, holding back a smile when you notice he was leaning further more into your touch. “I’m yours Mark.” Whatever little control Mark had left in him had vanished.

Despite the loud music, your mixed moans and grunts could be heard perfectly clear outside, it didn’t help your case that loud banging sounds can be heard emitting from the very small closet room the two of you were currently in. If anyone was keeping count, and they were. The two of you were in there for hours. At some point they wondered if you’ve fallen asleep. But when the two of you had finally gotten out, a tired looking Mark clinging onto you as you held him on one arm and your heels along with his belt in the other it was obvious what had gone on in there.

Your brothers slept over at the neighbors house for the night. Luckily they had kids they got along with and your parents as busy as they could ever be. Wouldn’t be home for another month. Mark hadn’t gone home that night and instead crashed on the sofa with you. Both too exhausted to go upstairs. And by the time the morning came, Mark would wake up with his arms around you, marks and hickies all over his body, scratches on his back and full blown panic attack at the memory of last nights shenanigans.

Mark didn’t want to remember that night. It was a mistake, he made a mistake. It should have never happened and yet when he woke up the morning after with you in his arms he couldn’t help but feel that pathetic flutters abrupt in his stomach. God he felt pathetic. At first he tried to ignore you, avoid you at all times but it was killing him to stay away from you. And when you made it impossible to get around you, Mark had no choice but to confront the elephant in the room. He was meant to say that last night was a mistake. That he was sorry given the two of you had been drinking and no decision was made with a clear head but as he sat the two of you on the couch, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to your neck where the hickies he left on your skin was still very much prominent. He had lost all train of thought and leaned in to smash his lips on top of yours. “Fuck Mark did I take your virginity?” At the realization, he turns red. “Yeah guess you did.” Feeling bad, you pull from him, “Let me make it up to you.” “Y/n-“ “Shh, just enjoy it.” Boys currently with the neighbors as they were invited for a day to the amusement park, you had the entire house to yourselves.

On your knees, you unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull them down along with his briefs and when you do, he slightly hisses at the cool air hitting his veiny cock. His chest beginning to heave with every heavy breath he takes. And when you take a long lick from the base to his tip he can’t help but throw his head back. It feels pathetic to admit he’s fallen putty for you, but when you continue to take long stripes. Puckering your lips as you kitten lick his tip and look up at him with those bright eyes of yours he felt filthy to think of wanting to add tears to those beautiful eyes of yours. Large hands caressing your face until they get a hold of your hair. For someone so inexperienced it seems as if he knew exactly what to do. His groans get louder when you start to deep throat him, pulling away to spit on his tip only to go back down on him. He felt embarrassed by how close he was already getting. The way his thigh clenched and he bucks up into your mouth. This causes you to bob your head, wanting to take all of him. To gag on him and when you do, you want him to hear how well you’re taking his cock.

“Fuck y/n!” He grunts, holding your hair up as you focus on making come in your mouth. Fondling his balls that only has raising his grunts. “Come for me.” You manage to say for the split second you remove yourself off him. Leaning down to suck his base, jerking him off, his hold on your hair tightens. Pressing kisses to his red mushroom tip, you wrap your lips around him. Continue to jerk while doing so, “Want it in my mouth.” “Shit I’m close!” Mouth agape as he then starts to shoot his load down your throat. Warm thick liquid, salty and you waste no time swallowing. Eyes never leaving his as you clean up his mouth. “Good boy.” You wink at him, loving how pink his cheeks have gotten. “Y/n…”

Pressing a finger up against his lips, you rest yourself on his lap. “Didn’t I tell you to enjoy it?” A soft whimper is heard from him as you begin to discard your clothes. Grabbing his hand and pulling it down to your panties, soiled. “This is all yours.” Softly moaning when you feel start rubbing your clothed pussy. “You want me?” He nods, “Tell me how much you want me.” “So much, I need you y/n.” “Yeah?” He hums. Moving your panties to the side, you press a soft kiss to his lips. “Take me Markie.” Shoving his fingers in you, Mark groans by how tight your walls were wrapped around him. His dick sensitive and with the way you start to grind on him it takes no time to get hard again. Flipping you on your back, he kisses you hungrily. Fingers gaining in speed, thrusting harder into your sopping cunt. He’s enraptured by you, enamored by your beauty, your blissful state and to make you come for him that he fails to realize his phone had been blowing up with text messages and phone calls.

You knew it was only a matter of time before those pictures and videos surfaced all over the web and Maru would see them. Angered that her supposed fiancé had once again been hooking up with you, that you didn’t listen to her threats. She was blowing up his phone to explain himself, as someone who dare says he’s faithful she’d like to know what he has to say for himself. But by his lack of presence to even answer his phone she wondered if he still was with you. Boy was she right.

In a matter of minutes the large house echoed your moans and Mark’s grunts. A mix of skin clapping and the sounds of your essence squelching with every hard thrust. Mark balls deep in you, a leg over his shoulder as he focused his sight on the connection between you two. Pupils filled with lust the more he watched how well your pussy took his cock, how tight your walls kept him inside you. He felt his tip rub up against your gummy walls, to see the small bulge on your abdomen the faster he fucked you. His hair sticking to his forehead as more sweat formed. Unfortunately your state of pure bliss would come to a sudden halt when there’s rough banging at the front door, followed by a very angry voice. “Mark! Get out here right now!”

“Maru?”

Immediately removing himself from you, you groan when you lose his warmth. Watching as he hurriedly dressed himself as the pounding on the door got louder. “Mark Lee!” “How did she know where I was?” He says panicked, sitting up almost boredly. You began to dress yourself albeit a bit more slower than Mark. “She’s psycho, like any maniac they stalk and track. How else did she find you?” You weren’t being sarcastic but to Mark, he liked to think so. In a desperate attempt to make himself look more casual, it was no use. His heavy breaths, flushed face, fluffed hair, marks on his skin and swollen lips all were a clear indication of exactly what Mark didn’t want Maru to know happened. So the second he opened the door and tried to casually greet her, Maru didn’t buy it. Rudely pushing right past him and made her way inside where she’d come in contact with you. Had barely begun putting on your top she had caught sight of all the red and purple bruises her fiancé had left all over you. “You’re dead!” Making her way over to you, Mark is able to grab her before she lays a finger on you. “I KNEW IT!” Her legs thrashed as Mark had her picked up and moved on the other side of the living room.

“Maru please-“ A loud slap resonates throughout the house, “How could you?!” Taking a step forward, Mark extends his arm out to stop you. “I’m sorry.” He answers guiltily and eyes on the ground. “You damn right!” She lets out a fake laugh, “Who would’ve thought I’d find you here at her house. To find out you WORK for her no scratch that, you…babysit her.” She snorts. Eyes turn to lock onto yours, “I warned you…”

The following week was an absolute hell. Maru had in fact kept her word and after learning the truth she made sure everyone heard it as well. The news broke like hell fire, by the end of the night the entire town and others have heard about it. Your parents found out and were furious given it was all their coworkers can talk about. Having to cut the business trip early, and their first words once they had walked through the doors was that Mark was fired.

It broke you, you didn’t want him to leave and even pleaded for them to not be so harsh but they wouldn’t hear it. Your poor brothers didn’t understand what was going on and were just commanded to go to their rooms. Mark didn’t argue nor fight and accepted it. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” Since the news about his infidelity, Mark felt utterly dejected. Many gossiped, shocked to hear the golden boy had done such a thing. And although for the most part many still treated him no differently, Mark still felt as if he lost all the respect he worked so hard to gain. To see how quick he was to accept his departure from the family was something you couldn’t handle. Running to catch him just as he’s about to enter his car, begging him to stay. “Y/n i told you this was a mistake.”

“No Mark it’s not-“ “Yes it is. I’m sorry if I made you believe that there could ever be anything between us…” he shakes his head along with a defeated sigh. “But I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. To never contact each other again.” You hadn’t noticed you had begun to tear up, to really think the boy in front of you had you feeling so strongly about him. But when you tried to grab his hand and he pulled away, shaking his head and a small no that leaves his mouth boy did that stab you straight into your chest. “Goodbye y/n.” “Please Mark, why are you going back to her? She doesn’t love you.” “Y/n please don’t do this-“ “Why not?! Mark she’s using you for your inheritance money!” Something in him snapped, ice cold eyes stare you down as his frown turns to a scowl. “How can you accuse her of such thing after what we did to her? To stoop so low?” He eyes you, no longer understanding the girl he’d grown so close to over the last few months. “Mark-“ “I’m trying to save my relationship with her, if you cared about me so much you’d allowed me to be happy.” And with that he gets inside his car and drive off.

Your college didn’t waste time to make your drama the latest news, it was even worse when word got out that Mark had dropped out of school. You noticed the stares and the whispers. Those who were bold enough to mention how you were babysat by the ‘golden loser’ as they liked to say but were quickly silent when you cursed them out. Your friends had stayed by your side though, and even took the liberty to throw anything nearest to them to anyone who even dared glance your way. “I cant believe she really outed you like that,” Ten scoffs. “You’re not gonna let her get away with this right?” You managed to shrug in response, have lost much needed sleep. “You better y/n, we all know Mark isn’t her type. She’s definitely using him for his money.” Another friend of yours says. “Exactly I heard her on the phone one time, admitted the whole thing.”

“What?”

“Yup, wish I got that on tape-“ “That’s it.” Your friend send each other looks. “I know what to do.” “Really?” “I’ll need your help though.” With chesire smiles and sly grins they lean in to hear what you had to say. “We’re all ears.”

Mark had managed to land a job with one of the country’s most top companies. Since the scandal, Mark had succumbed to his parents help and got the job through them. And now, as part of the company’s committee, with his own office and personal assistants whatever free time he once had was gone. This meant no more hobbies, no more charity events and no more school. Maru has been keeping him on a tight leash, calls and texts tens of times each hour and expects for him to answer each and every one of them. Regularly visits him during his lunch breaks and expects him home no longer after thirty minutes of him clocking out. Mark had finally succumbed to a life of every sad average middle aged man who has ever lived. A confined life. But he tries to make amends with it, he reminds himself of what he did and it was only fair if he wanted his relationship and future marriage to work. But as the weeks goes on, it soon turns into months and his energy battery was heavily drained.

Stress levels at an all time high, he’s never drank so many cups of coffee and popped so many energy pills. A deadline was nearing and he was running behind on reviewing some paper work. He had been stuck in his office for hours without break, he’s sure to fall apart any second. “Sir, you have someone for you.” He hears his assistant say over the speaker phone. “Please tell my girlfriend I’m busy.” After a few moments, they were knocking on the door. With a soft sigh, Mark sets his paperwork on the table and goes to stand when the door opens. Shocked to see it was in fact not his girlfriend. “Y/n?” Closing the door behind you, he doesn’t hear the sound of a click. “What are you doing here? How did you-“ “Relax, I came to stop by it’s all.” Clearing his throat, Mark fixes his tie and sits. Motioning his hand for you to do the same. “Well say what you need to say I have a lot of work-“ “My brothers miss you.” He frowns sadly.

Hearing ruffling, he looks over to see you taking something out of your purse. “They told me to give you these.” There in hand were nothing but tons of drawings all of which included him in their family portraits. “They keep wondering when you’ll be back. Iseul misses his favorite coach.” Mark looks thoroughly through all the drawings, almost forgetting where he was currently at and with who. “Yeah well…we all gotta move on.” He clears his throat again and sets the pictures aside. Going to pick up his paperwork again, he stops when he feels you rest your hand on top of his. “What if I don’t wanna move on.” “Y/n…”

A loud screech from the chair is heard when you abruptly stand. Walking around his desk only to stand directly in front of him. “Don’t tell me you’ve moved on from me.” You turn his chair to face you. “I’m engaged.” “So.” “So?” Eyes slightly widening when you proceed to sit on his lap. “That shouldn’t stop you from figuring out who you really wanna be with.” “And you know who I want to be with?” “My birthday was last week.” “Happy belated birthday…” chuckling, you proceed to run your hand through his hair. “Mark, did you really think I wouldn’t figure out it was you who sent me that dress?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“The black dress. You sent me it as a birthday gift after you failed to get the stain out of my old one.” Shaking his head, he tries his hardest to avoid eyes with you. But you can see how flushed he’s getting. “C’mon baby..” you press a soft chaste kiss to his cheek. “I can make you the happiest man. Don’t tell me you enjoy working here.” He shrugs, “It’s not too bad.” “Then explain the eye bags.” Stopping your hand from touching his bags, he sighs. Before he can speak, his phone is being bombarded with text messages again. All of which were from Maru demanding his whereabouts. “Really? You enjoy being in a relationship with her?” “Look if you’re only here to change my mind then it’s not going to work-“. Mark goes to stand, to get you off his lap but you stop him. Holding his face in your hands as you murmur into his ear. “I’m not here to change your mind.” Another light kiss is pressed on his neck that sent the little hairs on his neck to stand. “I’m here to remind you how well we are for each other.” With no time to respond you press your lips up against his. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. He missed seeing you, to spend his time with you even when you stressed him out. It was always an adventure with you, so to have you in front of him and kissing him. He admits he’s a coward to not being able to follow through with his promises, how can he push you away when you’re exactly what he needs after days of relentless stress?

He hadn’t noticed he was kissing you roughly, passionately. Leaning further and further into your lips until he has you laying flat out on his desk. His hands busying themselves and unbuttoning your oversized shirt that he hadn’t realize was his that he left back at your house. Butterfly kisses down to your abdomen until he comes face to face with your jeans that he wastes no time ripping them off. Spreading your legs apart and seeing you were wearing a pair of red lacy panties that left little to the imagination. “Want your tongue Markie.” Mark’s lustful stare wasted no time in ripping them off you and leaning right in.

The marble floors resonate the sounds of the hard clicking of heels. The man at the reception goes unheard as Maru heads her way over to the elevator. She had visited many times before, and she knows exactly where her fiancé resides at. He knew better to answer her and yet he still had the audacity to disobey her orders. With every floor the elevator gets, a chime goes off. Maru waits impatiently, foot tapping as she stares for it to reach the highest floor. On the other end, Mark’s office begins to get louder with every lick you receive from him. Large hands grip your legs apart as he focuses on getting his full. Sucking your nub and licking figure eights on your cunt. Tongue prodding your hole and even rubs your clit with his fingers. He loves how loud you were getting for him. How your chest rose with every deep breath and tits perky and practically begging for him to fuck. Your grip on the desk hadn’t seized and your head had been thrown back and eyes shut as you relished in the pleasure he was bringing you. “Fuck Mark, feels so good!” You run a hand through his hair, grip tightening while he makes no intent to detach himself from you.

Maru had finally managed to make it to the top floor. Her heels clicking was familiar to everyone on the floor, immediately understanding who had arrived. “My fiancé.” Maru plainly tells his secretary. Her intense stare was enough for the poor secretary to silently nod and call for him.

“Mr. Lee your fiancée is here to see you.”

“Shit!” Mark swears as he pulls away from you. Grunting at yet another interruption from her, you sit up and hold him still. “Relax, not a word about my presence. Get rid of her quickly.” “Huh?” Pulling the two of you down, he sits on his chair while you hid underneath his desk. And in the very moment the door to his office is opened abruptly. “Oh Maru!” He squeaks. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” “I’m sorry, I’m just so caught up with work.” “Uh huh…” she inspects the room for any signs of you. “Was there something important that you needed from me?” She shakes her head, “When are you coming home.” “Just as soon as I file these. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour-OW, two! Two hours.” Maru furrows her brows at him, “Are you okay? You’re acting odd.” “Haha no just stubbed my toe.”

Under the table where Maru fails to see you had begun to undo his pants. Down to his thighs and enough to free his cock. Red angry tip that you waste no time shoving in your mouth. “Mark-“ suddenly getting a call, Maru checks her phone. Her facial expression changes at the contact and sends Mark one last look. “Alright I’ll see you back home in a few hours.” She says before walking out and speaks to whoever had been calling her. Mark lets out a sigh of relief as he looks down at you. “Are you trying to be the death of me?” You merely send him a wink before you go back to focusing on sucking him off. The memory of his fiancée immediately washing away from Mark’s mind as his focus is now entirely on you.

It reeked of sex, music played softly in the background as the curtains darkened the room. Lit candles and rose petals everywhere made it all the more romantic. Much to Mark’s whole claim about being faithful and what not, it didn’t take much for you to break his walls. Every night since visiting his office the two of you have been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs. Going on secret dates where like now, it ends with the two of you fucking each other’s brains out. Sexting became a norm and ditching friends and family occurred a lot more often. Now where you currently lie, in the arms of the man you love with bed hair and a tired look on his face, you massage his scalp. Slowly lulling him to sleep but he tried to stay up despite how relax you made him feel. Snuggling in between your breasts merely responding to you with a hum. “Mark?” He hums once more, “Did you hear me?”

Pulling away, Mark whines and tugs you closer to him. The bed automatically felt cold without your warmth, not only that but you were currently cock warming him and he didn’t want you going anywhere anytime soon. One move and he worries he’ll get hard again and after hours of fucking yourselves stupid he knows he’s not strong enough to go again. “Your wedding is tomorrow.” You state, there’s a silence before you hear a small sad sigh. Mark had known the time was ticking before he’s officially become Maru’s spouse. At this very moment he’s supposed to be at his rehearsal dinner, he was in fact there for a bit. But after seeing his friends and family come up to him, congratulating him for finally about to tie the knot. To see her family tell him he better treat her right, and when they’ll have their first child blah blah blah. He knew he needed to get the hell out of there for fresh air, heart thumping and head pounding and the only thought in his mind was you. So without any doubt, he phoned you and with a simple, ‘I need you’ you were there.

Now in your bedroom, rest of the family out for dinner while you were given no other choice but to stay given you’re still grounded. You chose to entertain yourself with your lover in bed. At least that’s what he is to you. Unlike Mark - who has been trying to ignore the fact that he’s getting married. That’s all you could think about, you can’t see yourself without him. You can barely stand not seeing him for over eight hours. Can you honestly say you can see Mark marry someone else, your enemy at that and be okay with that? Absolutely not. “I said leave her.” Now this broke him out of his tired state, head lifted from your boobs he stares into your eyes. “What?” “You heard me Mark.” There’s a moment of silence, and when you see him make the same look that says he’s about to disagree you cut him off.

“You don’t love her Mark.” “I know but-“ “But what?!” You were starting to get irritated, how can he possibly still want to marry her? There’s nothing she can offer him, nothing in her he truly fell in love with. Not in the way he fell for you. He’s never said it out loud, but you don’t need him to. On the days you visit him at your office he treats you more like his partner than he does when Maru visits. And word around the lobby, Mark seems a lot less stress when you’re around but then again they don’t know what goes on his office when you visit but they have speculations. “You love me Mark, not her.” Shifting to sit on his lap, like magnets his hands move to your hips to steady you. Your acrylic nails placed at his scratched up chest as a low grunt rolls off his tongue when you lower yourself on his now hardening cock. “I’m the one that makes you feel good..” leaning to press sweet kisses on his chest. Trailing their way up to his neck, “I’m the one that listens to your problems…” you can hear him take a large gulp, Adam’s apple prominent when he does so. “The one who I prioritize…” and lastly a deep passionate kiss to his swollen lips. Pulling him and slightly smirking when you notice he chased after your lips for more. “I love you for you…not like her who only sees you as a pawn in her game.”

With scrunched brows, he looks at you. “What do you mean?” Sighing, you get off him. He groans at the sensitivity and when had gotten off the bed he took it as opportunity to prop himself up against the bed frame. He watched as you walked over to your desk, pulling the drawer and out you grabbed a folder, setting it on his lap. “My friends caught sight of her not too long ago.” He opens in and he couldn’t believe what he saw. “Brandon Young, She’s been secretly dating him for about three years. Ring any bells?” It sure did, Brandon Young twenty five and just recently promoted to his department. Currently working on his floor and is secretary to one of Mark’s business partners. “Brandon?” “Flip the page.” He does.

There were more pictures. Of Mark leaving his shared apartment with Maru and some of an unknown car pulling in only five minutes after his departure. Out comes the very man and on the last few photos were of Maru getting out of the apartment and greeting him with a heated make out session. A voice interrupts Mark’s shock, looking up and seeing you had your phone in hand. It was Maru’s voice, she sounded as if she was speaking to someone.

‘Patience babe, I told you soon as I get his inheritance money the both of us will go on our promised vacation to Spain. Trust me, he’s too dumb and naive to suspect anything, he hasn’t even noticed we’ve been having sex under the same roof as him.’ A giggle is heard, ‘Still can’t believe he thought I was actually in the bathroom for 45 minutes doing my makeup. Thank god his boss was talking his ear off for him to even notice you sneaking in the bathroom after me.’ The recording ends.

Mark was quiet, stuck in his thoughts and although you couldn’t read his mind his face said it all. He felt betrayed and played like a fool. To think he felt so shitty to be doing this to her when all along she’s done it to him way before he’s ever worked for your family. And worse, using him for his money. He felt your hands cup his face, turning his head to look at you. “We can be together Mark, it’s not too late. We can live a perfect life together one where we’ll be happy forever. We’ll move away, far away from here and get married. Start a family and love each other endlessly, don’t you want that?” He stares deep into your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. And before you can add on to that, he leans in and catches you by surprise. Grabbing and tossing you onto the bed, hovering above you. “I want it baby.” He tells you after he detaches himself from your lips. Previously he only wanted to stay engaged with Maru for the lack of loyalty he had for her. He hoped that by marrying her, it’d make him less guilty of what he’d done. But he doesn’t feel that anymore, not when he knows there’s no reason to hold back from loving you freely.

“Lets run away together.” He mumbles, forehead rests on top of yours. “Just you and me, forget about everyone.” You to try hold back the grin, giddy to know you finally had him. In love and just as equally obsessed with you. “Tonight, let’s go tonight.” He whispers in your ear as he leaves kisses all over your marked skin. You agree, humming pleasantly when he nips at your sweet spot. “Tonight.” You feel his hands begin to roam all over your skin until they find your perky tits. “Horny again?” You tease, “Can’t help it you’re irresistible.” He murmurs, “I’m not complaining.” You press a peck on his nose. Pressing one last kiss on your lips before he turns you around, pressing your face on your pillow. Moaning you begin to feel his tip rub up against your clit.

One more quick fuck wouldn’t hurt before running off together.

Heels tapped angrily on the marble floor. A stressed out bride pacing back and forth as her bridesmaids try to settle her nerves. “He won’t pick up!” She yells, her mother going to rest her hands on her shoulder only to get brushed off coldly. “He was no where to be seen last night! I swear if he has off with that tramp!” “Nonsense Maru!” Her maid of honor shushes her up, fixing her hair and checking her makeup. “You made it clear you didn’t want him near her and he hasn’t broken that promise. I’m sure he had something come up don’t worry.” Taking a deep breath, she nods. Forcing on a plastic smile, “You’re right…you’re right, he would never do something such as leave me at the alter. That’s definitely not something Mark would do.”

Outside, chairs all facing the alter. Officiant checking his watch for the umpteenth time as guests are slowly becoming bored. The heat didn’t make anything better and now they along with the servants had to endure wearing a very expensive attire that’s now getting covered in their sweat. From behind them, they fail to notice the approaching figure until they walked right by them. In a basket, out they tossed what anyone would assume to be flower petals but this wasn’t the case. Instead, copies of the very same photos Mark saw were being tossed on the floor. Some flew over guest’s head, with widened eyes and shocked gasps they pick up the photos of the bride very clearly cheating on the groom with as at this point everyone knew to be one of the best men.

Dates at the corner to show just how far back the cheating had been going on for. In the black dress Mark bought for your birthday, you made your way to the stage. Taking the mic away from the officiant and turning to face the crowd, tapping on the mic as the noise resonated off the speakers. Clearing your throat, you smiled at the crowd. “Evening ladies and gentlemen. Today, I come baring bad news.” From inside, your voice is loud enough to catch the attention of everyone including the bride herself.

“The groom couldn’t make it as he is currently on his way to the airport.” The crowd erupts in gasps, all whispering amongst themselves. “As devastated any one would be in his situation, he chose to go on with his life and has decided to walk a different path. One where he won’t get married to a cheating, manipulative gold digger like Maru Kim.” Running out of the building, both groomsmen and bridesmaids right behind her. A look of horror is set on her face, “You’re lying!” She shouts immediately gaining the attention of the crowd. Gasping when she catches sight of them holding the pictures of her and Brandon. Turning over and seeing he turned his head to avoid confrontation. Clearly embarrassed by all the judgmental looks he was getting.

“That doesn’t prove anything! So what if we dated? That was long ago and we’re not dating anymore and I’ll be damned if I let some skank like you ruin my wedding!” Shrugging, you nod. “You’re right…the pictures aren’t enough proof. So shall we see some more?” Turning around, you move off to the side. A large projector screen which was meant to show pictures of the then husband and wife’s most ‘happiest’ memories. But as it turns on, it shows quite the contrary. On camera reveals Maru and Brandon on dates together, some where they kiss and others where they cuddle. Then it pans to a moment in which Mark calls her, ‘No yeah I’ll be home soon don’t worry.’ She speaks to him while Brandon busied himself in kissing her neck. A grin on her face and tries to push him away only to get pulled back in.

And lastly, the audio Mark heard. Everyone’s baffled and utterly disgusted. Turning to stare at the bride with a look of judgment. Some beginning to whisper not so lowly about how vile she is. Maru stood in her spot absolutely humiliated, no way can she prove her innocence now. And as she turns to look at Brandon, she knows he wouldn’t say nor do anything to back her up. Turning to her bridesmaids and seeing them only raise their brows at her, all silently criticizing her. Eyes on her mother whom can barely stare at her by how disappointed she is. “Can’t believe she used him for his money.” A voice says loud enough for everyone to hear. Holding up a white paper with writing on it, in bold letters does it say bankruptcy. “Unfortunately mommy and daddy got too cocky with their money and had lost it all isn’t that right?” More gasps, embarrassed her parents look away. “And you thought the only way Maru Kim can stay living the life of luxury is by drying Mark out of his. Brandon over here had been disowned by his own parents and therefore kicked from the family’s wealth. So the two of you decided to take advantage of the poor guy who simply just wanted to achieve his dreams. How sad.” Mark’s parents had been there, angered by this they stand to face her. “How could you!” Mark’s mother yelled. “Don’t yell at my daughter!” Maru’s father responds. “Don’t you raise your voice at my wife!” And like a chain reaction, the entire place erupts in shouts. And it isn’t until you speak into the microphone again do they stop.

“Congratulations Maru for managing to stay engaged up until the wedding day, it’s unfortunate the groom couldn’t attend due to obvious reasons but! Rest assured, he’ll be doing much better from here on out.” The ends of your mouth curl upward, tears boiling to the rim she shouts,

“You’re lying! Guys she’s lying!” But no one was convinced at that. “You just can’t accept the fact that I have something you can’t have, you’re just jealous you can’t be me.” She huffs.

“See that’s where you go wrong, because no matter what you do or…who you do. I’ll always have what’s rightfully mine.” From behind your back, you finally reveal what was wrapped around your finger. Large, white and bright. Definitely a lot more expensive than the one she has and a lot more pleasing to the eyes. The color drains from her face, and soon the others began to piece together how exactly you fit into this whole situation. But that wasn’t the most shocking of it all.

Because not only was it a surprise for everyone at the reception to know Mark is running away. That he’s running away with a new fiancée at his side, the very woman they heard he had a thing with a while back. But to also see that alongside the diamond ring wrapped neatly on your finger, there on your thumb and index fingers held up none other than what’s made out to be a sonogram. A picture of an 18 week old fetus that proved you were currently with Mark’s child. Traced back to the very first time the both of you had sex at the party.

“I guess in the end, you were the one who really failed. Isn’t that right Maru?” Stepping down the stage, you make your way down the walk way. Just about to leave you stand beside the now mascara stained bride, eyes still filled with anger and fists at her sides. Bouquet of flowers now terribly crumbled.

“Expect an Insta post of our wedding soon.”



[neptuneiris]

sparks (01/04)

My heart is yours It's you that I hold on to

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 8.6k

next part • series masterlist

AHHH here is another story!

I'm really excited for this one especially since it's angst but in a modern world, which I haven't done since cardigan and gosh what I have prepared for this, you're going to like it a lot or that's what I hope haha.

I look forward to your comments excited, I love responding to each one of them, thank you for your support and for reading, you are amazing beautiful people, enjoy!

warnings: pure angst

You're losing him.

You say to yourself as you read the messages from your boyfriend, Aemond.

You stare emotionlessly at your phone screen for a few more moments as you bite the inside of your cheek, beginning to feel a sharp pain in your chest and disappointment coursing through your body.

With a defeated gesture, you turn off the screen and head to your room, starting to take off your makeup, hairstyle and also the beautiful black dress that you were so excited for Aemond to see you wearing.

You resist the urge to cry at all times, especially when you remove your makeup and look at yourself in the mirror, biting your lips and telling yourself that this is no big deal, that you shouldn't cry.

You know it's not his fault, you know he has work and that keeps him very busy, but it's not the first time this has happened.

Days before he proposes the idea of going to dinner, just you and him, to one of those fine restaurants downtown, telling you he wants to enjoy a luxurious dinner with you, making you get excited and start planning what you will wear and how you will do your makeup and hair.

And when the day comes… his work prevents him from leaving the company building and consumes more of his time.

You understand the great responsibility he carries on his back being the heir to his father's important company, preparing at twenty-three years old to become the next big head and boss by the time comes, but you never thought you would have to spend less time with him every day.

Aemond a year ago graduated with a degree in business management and as soon as he received his college degree, he started working with his father.

You met him because you both have friends in common at the same university even though you study marketing and are a year younger, yet your friends would ask you out to clubs or for drinks and Aemond would join in.

That's when the two of you started talking and getting to know each other better. And as a result of that, eventually he and you started hanging out together until you formalized everything by being in a relationship.

Not too long after that, the two of you decided to live together in an apartment near the university, which you could afford because Aemond has always belonged to a rich family and also because of your half-time job at a coffee shop.

But when Aemond graduated and started working with his father, the whole relationship slowly began to change.

You only talk when he comes home late, asking you how was your day, what did you do and you also ask the same to him, realizing that there is no day where Aemond does not go through stress.

Now you see him less time, in the evening he comes back and you don't even talk much as he feels exhausted, so he takes a shower and goes to sleep.

There are no more times where you go out to the movies, to a fast food restaurant, bowling, for drinks with friends, not even watching movies at home or eating together, be it breakfast, lunch, dinner, nothing.

Even in his days off, he is working in his home office, taking calls and so on, while you miraculously wait for him to have a little break and talk to you, but again... nothing.

That's why right now you don't want to get angry with him, because you know it's not his fault, but still... you can't resist it anymore and the first tears fall down your cheeks and low sobs escape from your throat.

You want to reassure yourself, thinking that you shouldn't cry over this, that it's not that big of a deal, but you can't stop, the tears keep coming and your sobs are the only thing that can be heard all over the room, crying louder at the thought of how much you miss him.

You continue to remove everything from your face in tears, even the hairstyle that took you hours, and then you calm down and put on your sleeping clothes.

You leave your beautiful dress on your comfortable sofa next to the window, deciding to put it properly back in your closet tomorrow, not having any more courage for this day, wanting to lie down on your bed, sleep and nothing else.

You feel sleep take you and you sink into deep darkness, resting. Then you don't know exactly how much time has passed, but a sound makes you slowly open your eyes.

You hear him start to walk softly around the room, trying not to make too much noise, feeling his gaze on you for a few moments.

You hear perfectly the sound of the door to the room and then footsteps entering.

"Love? Are you asleep?"

You hear him ask you in his low but audible and attentive enough tone, but you don't say or do anything to him.

Aemond lets out a long breath as he sees that you are asleep, feeling very tired and just as disappointed as you are, to start taking off his clothes and heading to take a shower.

You continue to lie still, turning your back to him, still pretending to sleep when you know you shouldn't but... you don't want to talk to him about what happened tonight, you don't feel in the mood.

You're tired, disappointed and don't want to get upset with him when it's not his fault, but you won't be able to help it.

And when he returns to the room already with his sleeping clothes on, about to lie down next to you, he briefly inspects the room and feels a pain in his chest when he sees two of your makeup removal towels on your vanity full of it, causing him pity.

It doesn't really take him long even though all the time he thinks about you and how disappointed you must have been, also how sad you must have felt.

But you never bother with him and that's what makes him more frustrated as he fails you once again because you understand him, you always do.

Also when he sees the black dress on the couch, he feels terrible.

Finally he turns his attention to you in bed, turning off the bathroom light and lying down next to you, instantly hugging you gently from behind so as not to wake you up and leaves a soft, tender kiss on your shoulder and others in your hair.

You still continue to pretend, enjoying his touch for a moment, but you again hold back the urge to cry all the time, feeling so good but not enough, as before.

Then Aemond drops his head on the pillow, covers himself with the sheets and finally he is carried away by the sleep, still hugging you.

You bite the inside of your cheek throughout, trying to control yourself so as not to get his attention when you've been doing so well and you close your eyes, wanting to go back to sleep

Yet there in the dark, in the place of you and Aemond, with his arm around you and holding you against him, feeling his soft breath at the base of your neck, you can't help but wonder: what if he's losing me?

You let out a long breath as you finally dare to walk through the huge doors of the big and tall building where Aemond works.

You have been here many times before, this is nothing new to you, however you feel anxious and a bit nervous as you have decided to come here without telling him before.

So you don't know if he is busy in the middle of a meeting or if he is in his office with a pile of papers around.

You are allowed free passage as most of the people here know you for being his girlfriend, so you don't really have any problems and say hello to all the receptionists, secretaries and security guards.

You have decided to come here to bring him his coffee of choice and also food, knowing that his break time starts in exactly ten minutes.

The thing is that he seems to be still working after all so you don't know what he must be doing now.

Once the elevator drops you on the floor where his office is, you instantly greet Eleonor, his assistant.

"It's been a while since I've seen you last, Y/N!"

She says with a loving smile, hugging you tightly and you smile hugging her back, taking care not to let the food and coffee fall out of your hands.

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you," she says pointing to all the paperwork on her desk with an exhausted look, "That man doesn't rest and you should put a limit on him," she says seriously.

"Yeah, I know," you both pull apart and you look at her without wiping your smile, "I've been really busy with college and also Aemond lately has had a lot of work so.... each one is on his own."

"You know how stubborn he is," you tell her as you shake your head in disappointment, "But anyway, I came to bring him food, is he in his office?" you point to his door.

"Oh no, he went to his father's office for some papers, but he should be on his way back by no—

The sound of the elevator makes you both turn your gazes to it, interrupting Eleonor and when the doors open Aemond appears, quickly walking out of there with his gaze fixed on the screen of his phone while in his other hand he holds a folder.

"There he is," Eleonor tells you with a small smile.

You smile back at her and turn your attention to Aemond, who looks so handsome in his office suits, so masculine and powerful, drawing everyone's attention everywhere he goes, adding to that his beautiful long silver hair.

But not only that, his sapphire eye also attracts attention.

He lost his eye in an accident as a child, however, by filling his empty socket with that precious stone, he feels even more powerful, signifying respect and endurance to him, also a form of intimidation as he will become the boss one day.

He also has a prosthetic eye, but that one he wears more when he is with his family or also when he was going to college, although already being at home, he doesn't wear anything.

You see the frustration all over his face at whatever he must be looking at on his phone screen, but when he looks up, everything softens the moment he sees you, a small smile appears on his lips, but also the slight confusion, speeding up his pace towards you a little more.

"Hey baby."

"Hi," you smile softly at him, closing the distance between the two of you.

"What are you doing here?"

He asks you without wiping away his small smile, reaching towards you and instantly leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate, smiling.

"I came to bring you your black coffee and food too," you point to everything in your hands, proudly.

"But don't you have classes?" he asks you confused, watching everything and also you, attentive.

"In two hours"

"Oh thank you, my sweet girl," he leaves another soft kiss on your lips, taking the coffee first as he sets the papers down on Eleonor's desk to take a sip, "Uff, I needed that."

"Yeah," you let out a small laugh, "It's your lunch hour, isn't it?"

"It's supposed to be," he tells you as the frustration returns to his face and so does his bad mood, "I have an important meeting in five minutes, I just got word," he points to the boardroom with his gaze, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Oh," disappointment again washes over you, as you had hoped this wouldn't happen, "I was hoping to spend some time with you," you tell him trying not to sound as sad as you really are.

And he lets out a long breath, turning his expression of pity and concern.

"I know love," he tells you as he rests his forehead with yours, looking at you sadly and as if asking for forgiveness, "You know if I could do anything—

"No, no, I know, it's okay babe," you assure him, interrupting him, "Then I won't stop you anymore if you have to work."

You smile softly at him, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes and then take the topper where his food is, as Aemond watches you intently and even sadly.

"I'll leave this in your office until you can eat, then I'll leave."

"Wait," he stops you in a soft voice, pulling you back towards him as he takes your arm, "Y/N, about last night—

"Mr. Targaryen!"

Suddenly a female voice interrupts him and also the moment, making you both focus behind him, where a tall woman with long black hair, red dress and black high heels approaches with a rather elegant and calculated way of walking, with a huge smile on her lips.

Aemond watches you back and stands next to you as he intertwines his fingers with yours and clears his throat, turning back to watch her.

"Miss Rivers," he nods politely towards her.

"It is a pleasure to see you on this day, Mr. Targaryen," she nods her head towards him as well, placing herself in front of you both.

"It is also a pleasure."

You watch Aemond for a second and then turn your gaze to her, watching as she also watches you at about the same time and that's when he reacts.

"Love, this is Alys Rivers, co-owner of the Riverlands company," he tells you and points to you with his hand, "And Miss Rivers, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my girlfriend."

You usually meet a lot of people who are also involved in all this business management stuff because of Aemond, especially when he takes you with him to important events and dinners as his companion, so this isn't new either.

What is new is this woman... Alys Rivers.

Normally she would have been just another woman who owns a company and is doing business with Aemond for her father's company, but the way she subtly inspects you up and down, and you notice the way she looks at your joined hand with Aemond.... you don't like it.

She looks at you superiorly and as if you're no big deal, almost expectantly, her bright smile from before disappearing for a second, but then she holds out her hand to you.

"Oh sure, it is a pleasure to meet you," she says to you with the brighter smile from before, but completely fake.

You bite the inside of your cheek and since you shouldn't be rude, much less to what you think is Aemond's new partner and company, you take her hand and shake it briefly.

"A pleasure," you nod in her direction.

"We're discussing a contract," Aemond then tells you, leaning his body toward you.

"Oh really? That sounds—

"Actually, speaking of discussions," she interrupts you, catching both of your attention, "I'm sorry but could I steal your boyfriend for a moment?"

She asks you suddenly, her tone too high and mellow, completely fake, without erasing her smile, revealing her perfect, aligned teeth.

"I really don't mean to intrude," she says with a sorrow look, but you don't believe her at all, "It's just that I'm afraid your grandfather and also my uncle are already expecting us Mr. Targaryen," she turns to Aemond to focus on you again, "I'm sure you'll understand, business stuff."

Of course you understand, you know Aemond's job perfectly well and in fact you wouldn't have taken any more notice of this woman despite the fake way she acts towards you and also because of the way she looked at you before.

But... you care very much the moment she places her hand on Aemond's shoulder, exposing her perfect red painted nails.

"Shall we?" she asks him as she watches him with a certain gleam in her eyes and gaze, completely attentive and in his disposition.

Of course Aemond notices this too, who almost instantly watches as she touches him, not understanding what has happened to her to casually make such a gesture or rather what has she thought to take such a liberty, then subtly walking away from her, trying not to look annoyed.

"I'll be there in a moment," he tells her just as polite and serious as before.

But she is insistent.

"I'm sorry Mr. Targaryen but we must leave now."

"Don't worry, I'm sure my grandfather can speak in my absence."

The smile fades from her lips, but you see how she quickly pulls herself together, although you've had enough of this and you don't want to delay Aemond any longer even though you don't like this woman at all, but at least they won't be alone and there are more people involved in the meeting.

And before she speaks, you do, addressing him.

"Don't worry love, I'll be on my way," you smile at him, "I don't want to delay you any longer. But I'll see you tonight, okay?"

And this immediately gets his attention.

"Do you need someone to drive you? I can tell Cole."

"No, no need, it's fine," you assure him, "You eat this, okay?"

You point to the food then extend it to Eleonor, as he smiles softly.

"Okay."

"Have a good day, love you."

"You too, love you."

You leave a soft kiss on his lips and finally head to the elevator, feeling the piercing gaze of Alys Rivers, but you don't mind, since at least you weren't the fake one the whole time.

After you leave the building and head to the university, your day goes by slow, stressful and with a lot to do, until finally your class ends at almost nine o'clock at night and you head home completely exhausted.

Normally Aemond comes home at ten o'clock at night, however, you don't know why you were hoping that maybe he had come home earlier, however, when you get to the apartment everything is dark.

You let out a long breath and turn on the lights, wishing and hoping that Aemond was already here and that just for one night, he would be the one to welcome you home.

You've thought about bringing up the subject of how you should spend more time with him, how he could maybe organize his work schedule better, how you've been feeling lately and how you misses him, telling him that nothing feels like it used to.

So the days and weeks go by, nothing has changed, you are still working half days, you are still going to classes, doing projects, research and so on.

While Aemond is still working very hard at the company, both of you seeing each other until late at night when he finishes another long and stressful day at work.

However, the words get stuck in your throat as you see him coming home from work very tired, deciding it's best to let him rest and sleep.

But more and more you feel the disappointment and sadness envelop you, having to deal with it yourself because you don't want to upset him.

Then one day, everything starts to go wrong.

In the middle of your Sales and Negotiation class, suddenly your phone vibrates and while listening attentively to your professor, you briefly glance at the screen for a second, seeing that it's a message from Floris, a friend you and Aemond have in common.

She apparently sends you a link to a magazine article that you can't really read unless you open the chat, and then you see two more messages from her.

[Floris B]: you saw this??

[Floris B]: ????

This definitely gets your attention, but before you can do anything, your professor draws more attention from everyone in the class and you go back to being attentive, hoping none of it was a bad thing.

However, an hour after class ends, you finally leave the classroom and start walking down the hallway in the direction of your next class with your phone in hand, opening the curious magazine link and what pops up... it's definitely bad.

With your thumb you read more of the whole news, where yes there are pictures of Aemond with that woman in a restaurant, just the two of them, him in his office clothes and her in an elegant dress.

You feel your breathing getting heavier as you see more pictures, where there is one in particular where you see how she has her hand on top of his, they are both obviously talking but there are also papers and folders on the table.

Again you feel that sharp pain in your chest, not wanting to jump to conclusions so fast, you trust Aemond with your life but clearly you don't trust her.

What you don't understand is why they went to a restaurant together. If they have talked business, which in fact there is no other reason why the two of them would be together, why not take care of it at the office?

You enter Safari and as you google Aemond, you see the same magazine article everywhere, instantly more magazines and newspapers advertising the same thing, all about a possible relationship between him and Alys Rivers.

You let out a long breath and finally head to your class, trying not to think about it anymore, but as the minutes tick by... you can't.

In all your remaining classes you find it hard to concentrate, you feel an uncertainty and anxiety all the time, you feel really bad and you have no idea what will happen when Aemond and you see each other tonight.

Not only Floris messages you, but also other friends that you and Aemond have in common, but you don't respond to them, only making you feel more anxious that the news is spreading fast.

Until finally you can go home and having no other choice, you wait for Aemond to arrive.

You pour yourself a glass of wine, unable to help it and wait for Aemond at the kitchen island, drinking and having the hope that this, that woman, is no threat and that what happened just happened inside the business and will not happen anymore.

Or at least it won't happen anymore in the sense that Aemond won't show up with her publicly anymore to avoid the press making speculations like this, that whether you want it to or not, they affect you and a lot.

You really don't know what is going on with Aemond in the company, you don't know what he talks about with his grandfather, his father, his mother and this woman, you don't know about his negotiations, his work and that's why it affects you, because you don't know what is happening.

Everything would be simpler if he and you had the time to talk, to share what you do, what you should do, as before.

However... you have the suspicion that this is not only in Aemond's hands, but that it is something beyond, something this woman is in control of and you don't like it at all, not since you met her and she gave you a bad feeling.

And you finally let out all the air you're holding in when you hear the sound of the door.

You continue sitting still on the stool, with the glass of wine in your hands, waiting. When again you hear the sound of the door closing and the figure of Aemond appearing, instantly he sees you.

He lets out a long breath as it finally becomes clear to him that you saw the news, he knew it before when he too saw the article in his office and officially started his stressful and frustrating day, but he didn't think it would affect you so much.

He leaves his keys on the island and then takes off his jacket with a silence enveloping you both, where he watches you attentively but you don't look back at him, still deep in thought, taking another sip of your wine.

He sees your dull look, the anxiety all over your body, the uncertainty, the sadness, the stress and he bets that your treacherous thoughts are making you believe things that are not.

He also notices how bad you must feel and how tense and distant you are from him now, and that worries him more than anything else.

"Nothing happened between me and this woman, Y/N."

Then he decides to speak, not bearing this anymore, your silence, your attitude, your distance. He just wants to hold you, hug you and kiss you, which is all he wants every time he finishes another horrible day at work.

He tells you tactfully, his voice soft and honest, firm with what he's saying, taking a couple of steps toward you, to which you continue without looking at him.

"I just want to know why you went to that restaurant together," you tell him in your voice just as soft as his, almost even sounding tired.

And he knows you too well, however, because this news is practically everywhere, being the first time you both face something like this, you remain calm and willing to talk.

And this strangely confuses and surprises him.

Although it shouldn't since he knows that you never get angry with him, at least not in this kind of situations since from the beginning of the relationship, communication has always been paramount before jumping to your own conclusions, avoiding fights.

And this gives him a bit of confidence to move closer to you.

"I just thought it would be better to take care of some business in public," he tells you honestly, "I know you didn't like her when you met her, neither did I. I also know she started to cross physical boundaries and I didn't like the idea of being with her alone in my office, that's why I decided on a public place out of respect for you," he explains, "I should have known this would happen though," he says bitterly,

Nothing.

You say nothing. You just listen and think.

You still don't like that he's having encounters with this woman, but if he has to do it for company business, you're not going to have an argument with him when it's just work.

And your silence begins to unsettle and frustrate him.

"You believe me, don't you?" he asks you insistently, concerned.

"Of course I do," you tell him in a murmur, without much emotion, though honestly, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

You almost snort in disbelief, of course you believe him.

Only you know when Aemond is being honest or not and you are relieved that he is always thinking of you, but he is not the problem, it's his job and this woman, that's what doesn't leave you alone.

But Aemond doesn't feel reassured just hearing that from you.

You take the last sip of your wine glass and get up from the stool to head to the dishwasher, saying nothing more, then start heading for the bedroom, causing Aemond to become more concerned and insistent.

"Where are you going?"

"I want to sleep."

He lets out a sigh as he averts his gaze for a second.

"Come on Y/N, don't be like that," he looks at you sadly.

"I'm not doing anything," you tell him, walking past him.

"You haven't even looked me in the eye since I arrived," he insists, stopping you.

"Aemond..." you finally give him a look, "I'm tired."

"Me too but I want to fix this," he says immediately.

"No, I'm tired... of everything," you clarify, serious and also sad.

He looks at you without understanding.

"What do you mean? I already explained to you—

"No, it's not just her, it's... your work and us."

You say more specifically, causing more confusion from Aemond, who watches you with furrowed brows and parted lips, attentive.

"I've wished for just one, one day where we can spend time together," you confess to him, "I don't mean fifteen, twenty minutes, I mean the whole afternoon or evening, or a day where on your days off you're not cooped up in your office."

"Y/N, I-I—

"I know you have a lot of work, I understand that," you clarify, "I don't want to harass you with this too when you have more important things to take care of, truly—

"Do you think you're not important?" he asks instantly confused, bewildered.

And you... don't really answer him.

You stay completely silent, just watching him back and nothing else with an equally sad look, to which Aemond's face becomes more worried and confused than before.

"Y/N, you are one of my priorities," he tells you hurt, "How come you don't believe that now?"

"Yes I do," you clarify sadly, "What I'm saying is that you barely have time for me and I know it's not your fault because I know your job, but..." you let out a long breath, "Not even a single day have we been able to spend together, not a single one."

He instantly tries to speak, opening his mouth to say something, but immediately closes it and struggles to be able to find the right words he wants to say, getting frustrated with himself.

He really doesn't want to tell you again what you've heard before, but he can't find another explanation because that's the only truth.

He shakes his head, letting his sentence hang in the air, watching you with sorrow, sadness and worry, failing to say anything else, as you feel tears begin to form in your eyes, your vision blurring.

"Y/N, I-I...," he looks sad, "I swear to you, if I could do anything, I would, but...

You press your lips together as you don't want to start crying in front of him, you really don't want him to see you like this, but you can't control it and in an instant the tears fall freely down your cheeks as you avert your defeated gaze from Aemond.

"No, no, please don't cry, my love."

He tells you instantly more concerned than before and you quickly bring your hands up to cover your face, completely embarrassed and trying to control yourself.

But you can't as he quickly encloses you in his arms and pulls you into his body in a protective, comforting way, while at the same time leaving soft kisses in your hair, stroking your back gently with one of his large, firm hands.

"Shh, my sweet girl," he says softly and warmly above your head, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You instantly hug him back too and sink your face deeper into his chest, sniffling your nose and controlling your sobs, really not wanting to cry anymore.

You missed this, completely. You just wish this wasn't happening under these circumstances.

"It's just that I miss you so much," you confess, clinging tighter to him.

And Aemond's heart breaks into pieces, instantly pulling you tighter against him, hating to see you in this state, hating to see you crying and even worse.... that you're crying for him.

"I miss you too baby, all the time," he says softly, "I miss you so much it fucking hurts."

He instantly leaves more soft kisses in your hair, also on your cheek, holding you tighter against him, while you let yourself be held in his arms and continue to cling against him, not wanting to let go and feeling that if you pull away, he will disappear at any moment right in front of you.

But it's only because you're vulnerable.

You don't know how long you both last like that, it must have only been a minute, but it feels like an eternity for both of you, especially for you, finally starting to calm down.

"I'm sorry," you say in a whisper and try to pull away from him a little, lifting one of your hands to wipe away your tears, "I didn't mean to get like this," you confess sadly, "I shouldn't be selfish."

"Hey, no, look at me."

He says in soft tone, placing one of his hands on your chin to lift your face towards him and you do so, watching him with sadness and embarrassment at the same time, as he gently shakes his head in your direction.

"No, it's not like that, you've just been busy having to attend to your wor—

"You're not selfish love," he makes it clear to you, "You're absolutely right. I've been neglecting you and that's not right of me."

"It's still not right," he insists, concerned, "And to be honest, if I were you I'd feel the same way," he confesses, "But I promise I'll do everything in my power to spend time with you, baby."

You shake your head in his direction.

"There are some things you can't control, Aemond."

"No matter, I miss you too, I want to spend time with you and I'll make sure of that."

You close your eyes and bring your forehead to his, both of you sinking into a comforting silence and a moment you haven't had in a long time, where it's just him and you.

He assures you softly and the two of you say nothing more, just stare into each other's eyes for a few moments.

Then he begins to gently trace your cheek with his thumb, attentively and delicately, watching you lovingly, as if he wants to memorize every detail of your face in his mind.

"My beautiful girl," Aemond murmurs fondly, in a low, soft tone.

You smile slightly and lean your face down to kiss his lips, he instantly reciprocates, holding your waist tighter against him as you place your arms around his neck and take complete refuge in him, needing this.

Aemond holds his hand more firmly on your cheek and deepens the kiss, working his way across your lips with his tongue, beginning to explore your mouth and you respond in kind in a slow, deep kiss.

Then you both part with a wet sound of your lips, you again embracing him and sinking your face into his neck, inhaling his cologne that drives you completely crazy and the fresh scent of detergent on his clothes that at the same time comforts you.

And finally everything feels right.

You there in Aemond's arms, this being exactly what you needed along with communication.

However, as the seconds pass with Aemond still holding you and both of you in that comfortable silence, he can't help but begin to feel guilty and remorseful.

At first he thought about not talking to you about this subject, solely so that you wouldn't worry and feel bad because of him, but now that you both have spoken... he can't keep something like this from you and he knows it's the ideal time.

"Love?"

He calls you softly, catching your attention, still both of you clinging in the embrace and the feel of each other's body with each other close.

"Hm?" you murmur, sending a vibration through his chest.

He presses his lips together for a moment, nervous, but no longer able to bear that another minute passes and you still don't know about this.

"There's something... I haven't told you."

And this definitely gets your attention more.

You slowly turn away from his body, instantly Aemond hating the feeling, then raise your gaze to him, watching him intently and all at once realizing that it's not something you'd like to hear.

You know it by the nervous, worried look he's giving you as you both again look at each other.

"What is it?"

He lets out a long breath, looking away from you for a moment, again having this difficulty being able to say the words he wants to say, wanting to explain everything to you gently, thoughtfully and clearly.

"Y/N... I-I... none of this has really been my decision," he tells you honestly, "But... I'm afraid you'll keep seeing me around this woman."

And it's definitely something you didn't like to hear.

Aemond waits attentively for your reaction, while you continue to watch him intently, your lips parted, a little confused, but neutral, this really not bothering you... yet.

"It's all for work Y/N, I know you know that but I don't want you to think otherwise if another news like this happens again," he tells you cautiously and attentively.

"So you'll go out with her again?"

He lets out a long breath.

"The company needs to associate with hers for our investment in an extra capital, since the attempted association with the Martells didn't work out and my grandfather...he asked me to take it over."

You lower your gaze for a moment, pursing your lips, processing the information, understanding perfectly well that this is solely for work and nothing else, but still... you don't like this woman at all.

"But I can keep Eleonor or Criston around if it's not to your liking," he tells you instantly, turning your gaze back to him, "I've even already taken care with our publicists to deny the rumor by saying it's all work between her and me, also we'll already be prepared in case this happens again."

"Aemond, I understand all of this perfectly," you clarify, assuring him with your tone and look, "I totally trust you but... it's her I don't trust and I don't like the way she behaves when she's around you."

He swallows hard, lowering his gaze for a moment, thinking very carefully about the words he will tactfully say to you next, not wanting to upset you.

"Also... my grandfather has suggested that perhaps it would be good and more efficient for us to partner with Riverlands sooner if I will begin to have an... intimate... relationship with her."

You feel a huge sharp pain in your chest, watching in mild surprise at Aemond, definitely not expecting that.

The silence surrounding you both only increases the pain inside you more, the sadness clinging to your heart, as you lower your gaze and part your lips, having your gaze wander to an invisible spot on the ground.

Tears begin to want to flow from your eyes, again, unable to control your overwhelming emotions any longer. As he instantly sees the sadness all over your face, the disbelief as well, beginning to worry you more.

"Of course I told him no, Y/N."

He tells you instantly, anguished and worried, taking your hands in his, but you don't react, at least not yet.

"He wants the media to start making publicity about the two of us, he thinks it will make the whole process easier and faster, that Rivers will be pleased along with her uncle. Even she...she's come on to me before but, but believe me Y/N, I have stopped her and been very clear with her about you and that I'm not the least bit interested."

"But she is interested in you," you tell her in your low, sad tone of voice, "And you won't be able to do much about it if you have to get yourself associated with her company. You'll have to keep seeing her, be in her company and be accessible to her if you want to make it."

"This shouldn't take me too long, love, I promise," he continues to tell you worriedly, wanting to make you understand, "Yes, you will see me with her but I also promise you that everything for me means work."

"But for her and your grandfather it's not only work, Aemond," you tell him a little more serious, just as sad, "She also wants to have you the other way, that's why she behaved with me the way she behaved when she met me."

You know that, totally.

"I know baby, I know," he tells you softly, "But I will never let her disrespect you, in any way."

He assures you firmly, determined.

"I don't care what my grandfather or her wants, neither what the press says about her and me, all I care about is that you understand that everything for me is work and that I would never do anything to hurt you and end everything between us, believe me that's the last thing I want," he tells you honestly, "And I also want you to keep in mind that I only want you."

You know that Aemond wants you, just the same way you want him and he loves you too, you both love each other, you love him with every fiber of your heart.

But it is all this that does not leave you calm, this is what you have never had to go through before and the insecurity along with the uncertainty consumes you as your mind is spinning non-stop, not even having the idea of what to think, with a knot forming in your stomach.

It all becomes more overwhelming and you don't know if you can get through this together, fearing for the future of the perfect relationship you had with him, the man you love.

And Aemond seeing this, just as worried, anxious and sad as you, not liking this at all either, knowing that he is asking too much of you seeing that you are thinking too fast, all the anxiety and stress through your body, instantly comes back to hug you to comfort you.

But he also does it to comfort himself.

His warm embrace feels like a safe haven in the midst of the moment you are going through, his arms wrapping around you gently but with a strength that makes you feel protected and loved, where you find comfort and his familiar fragrance makes you feel at home.

You experience the love and that connection of the two of you that seem to erase any worry or sadness you feel at that moment, also him, finding that primordial emotional support.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to make this all end soon, I promise love."

He assures you along with his gentle caresses on your back, his soothing words whispered in your ear making the outside world disappear and only the two of you exist, united in a loving embrace that makes you feel complete and loved.

And they also make you feel a sense of calm and hope that with your boyfriend's love and support, everything will be okay.

But neither of you knew what awaited you next.

After your conversation with Aemond, there really isn't much change in the relationship.

You tried your best not to think about him and that woman, you tried not to think about the fact that she was probably in the building at a certain time and that the two of them were together, being a thing almost every day that Aemond had to be in her company.

Your job at the coffe shop helped you not to overthink and focus almost one hundred percent on your classes, although in some free hours you had your boyfriend was in your thoughts.

What fortunately changed was that when your classes were over and you got home, he was already there waiting for you, the first night surprising you and making you feel completely happy.

You both were able to enjoy sharing an extended night together, having dinner, talking about everything and finally going to bed, you have also resumed some movie nights and also the nights of intimacy have been more constant.

But other than that... everything remains the same.

You and he haven't really talked about Rivers, you don't bring it up every time the magazines announce that he and she have been seen together again, clearly because the subject has already been discussed, but still, it makes you feel weird and you really don't like seeing those articles.

But you find it exhaustive that you have to talk it over with him again, so exhaustive for both him and you, that you don't want the two of you to end up having a fight afterwards.

So until now... you can just deal with it.

Until one day in a free hour before your last two-hour class starts, when you have your phone in your hand you get a new message and when you read it, it's from Aemond's sister, Helaena.

Hel🦋: hello beautiful!

Hel🦋: omg it has been ages

Hel🦋: I'm sure the event will be less boring with you🤭

Hel🦋: I am so excited to finally see you again on Saturday

Hel🦋: see you soon!

The messages make you smile and make you start to feel a warmth run through your chest, you too have been missing Hel for a while now as she works at Highgarden as well in a company expansion on her father's.

You haven't seen her for months and clearly communication by message doesn't happen much as both of you, especially her, are just as busy as Aemond.

But the smile doesn't last long on your face as you had no idea about this event, since you know what event it is, only that Aemond hasn't told you about it.

They are one of the typical important events where all the relevant businessmen attend, where they announce new innovations, where they make partners and where basically everyone allies with everyone.

When you get home, this time you are the one who arrives first and although you tried to control yourself by not asking him anything right away, you can't hold back anymore and that's what you do after he gets home from work.

Since you and Aemond started your relationship, you have always accompanied him to these events.

And especially at this one, since it's organized by his family, but you didn't know it would certainly happen because he didn't tell you anything.

And honestly he looks surprised when you ask him why he hadn't told you about the event, not expecting that, this getting your attention and instantly you know the reason isn't good and you're not going to like hearing it.

"I did wanted to tell you because I know we always go together, love" he says to you with some regret, "But now Rivers will be there an—

"You're going with her?"

You just ask him, all starting to form in your mind, while he doesn't say anything back right away and just stares at you uncertainly for a few moments and the realization starts to become more apparent to you.

"Your grandfather told you to take her as your companion?" you ask him more specifically now, watching him intently, waiting for his answer.

And you begin to see perfectly well how he starts to get frustrated.

"Yes but I told him I wouldn't do that," he clarifies instantly, looking at you worried and honest, "That's why I decided better to go on my own if everyone will be there."

You frown slightly at him.

"And what's wrong with me going with you?"

He doesn't answer, watches you for a few moments still with sorrow in his gaze, then lowers his head, staring at the ground as he lets out a long breath and runs a hand over his face.

Then you answer your own question, understanding him.

"You don't want to take me because everyone will be there and your grandfather won't be pleased to see me with you when you should have taken her with you?"

"Love, listen," he tells you immediately, walking towards you, "It's more than that, okay?" he says attentively and distressed, "I just thought that it wouldn't be comfortable for you to go with me to that place if she will be there—

"Everyone is talking about her and you," you tell him with your most serious tone, interrupting him, "Everyone will expect her and you to go together and of course your grandfather won't be happy to see me coming with you, why don't you tell me that?"

"Okay, yes, you are right, but I don't want to go with her, I want to go with you, I have always gone with you," he says in clarification, "But on this occasion I don't think it will be necessary, besides it won't be comfortable for you."

You let out a snort.

"Do you think I won't be able to handle it?"

"No, I mean, of course you can," he tells you instantly, "But you know her, she's very reckless and I don't want us to have a fight after that."

"Then do we put a limit on her, like you have done all this time with her or not?" you ask expectantly.

"Yes, of course I have put limits on her, but in that place..." he pauses, frustrated, "There will be a lot of people, our partners, my family and the press will always be watching, everything will be three times too much. Besides I'll have to attend an announcement along with her and all eyes will be on her and me and I don't want you to feel bad."

You let out a breath, turning your gaze away from him, feeling discomfort in your body, starting to walk away from him to go to your room.

"Okay, I get it, you don't want me to go with you, just say so."

And he reacts instantly.

"Hey, no, no, no, I didn't say that," he says worriedly, stopping you and placing himself in front of you, looking at you pleadingly, "Baby, please."

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes for a moment.

"It's just that you're treating me like I don't know this... your whole world, like I haven't gone to these events with you before," you tell him sadly, "Your grandfather knows we're together and yet he's asking you for this kind of thing... like as if I were a nuisance and at the same time like if I don't exist. And it's been like that ever since she—

You stop, not wanting to say anything else, feeling the lump in your throat and how tears begin to form in your eyes, bringing your hands instantly to your face, not wanting to cry now and feel bad, telling yourself that you're overreacting.

But all of this is really how you feel and you can't help it. And mostly you don't want to show your true feelings or speak your thoughts so as not to overwhelm him.

But just as you understand him, he understands you too.

"Fuck no, please don't cry baby, I hate to see you cry."

He tells you to then wrap you in a warm, firm embrace, holding you tight against his chest where he instantly feels all the tension through your body and pulls you tighter against him, wanting to protect you from everything that hurts you at that moment.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, love."

He tells you in low murmurs as he gently strokes your hair and you let out more of your tears, clinging completely to him.

"No, it's not your fault," you tell him sadly, sobbing softly against his chest.

He lets out a sigh.

"Yes it is," he says softly, "You don't deserve any of this."

He leaves a soft kiss in your hair, still hugging you and having no intention of letting you go, while you let yourself be carried away by the comforting warmth of his body, wanting to keep feeling that familiarity and security that only he can give you, in spite of everything.

"I know things have been hard lately and I'm so sorry, but... I love you and I care about you, you mean the whole world to me."

"I know babe," you murmur back, "I love you too and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get like this."

"No, no, it's okay love," he assures you, "We're going to get through this, just like we always have, remember?"

You nod your head even though you have it resting against his chest, then sniffle your nose and raise one of your hands to wipe away your tears, as he pulls away from you a little so he can look into your eyes and leave a soft kiss on your lips which you instantly reciprocate, again taking refuge in his arms.

Both of you at that moment feel vulnerable and lost for a moment in the uncertainty of the situation, but you knew you had to face whatever it was together.

Aemond feels in control of the relationship, but you feel more at a crossroads because of the uncertain future of the relationship itself.

[leopardcoffee]

𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕤𝕖 𝟙/𝟚

Bang Chan/F!Reader

Part 2 here

synopsis: Chan's never warmed up to you, regardless of how much time you've spent together. It wasn't just reservation, at this point you were sure. No, it had to be you.

Warnings: drinking, sexual undertones

Author's notes: hi! you might know me from my Star Trek works (probably not), but I write k-pop too! I have the finished work on ao3 and the 2nd half should be uploaded here soon. If you have something you want to see, my inbox is always open!

Word count: ~3.1k

Your breath puffed in front of you in the cold winter air, small white clouds against the darkness. A gust of frigid wind blew past, and you tugged your scarf tighter around your neck in indignance. Trudging all the way downtown after a long day of work to go clubbing for Minho’s birthday was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

A dull, chilly ache had settled itself into your bones earlier this afternoon and had been with you since. You’d been shivering at your desk, hunched over your spreadsheets for hours until the clock had mercifully read 5:00 pm. Instead of the comforting monotony of going home to your quiet apartment, you were going to spend the night squashed into a booth, just tipsy enough to be uncomfortable. But you loved Minho, so of course you’d make it to his special day, even if it was just the slightest bit agonizing. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself to have a good time. 

You missed Jisung’s beaming smile and Felix’s warm personality, seeing them might shake that lingering cold out of you. And of course, you’d be doubled over laughing at Changbin and Hyunjin. It’d been a while since you’d seen Jeongin, he must be almost done with his bachelor’s by now, you’d have to ask him about it. And Seungmin had just recently finished reading that book you’d lent him- It’d be so nice for us all to be together again. Oh, and Chan.

Furrowing your brows thinking of Minho’s friend, you tried to keep your mind open. Just because Chan would be there didn’t mean you couldn’t have a good time, even if you were sure he would brush you off like lint on his sweater.

For some reason beyond the scope of your understanding, Chan had just never warmed up to you. When Minho introduced you -his neighbor from childhood- to his friends from grad school, you were terrified. Despite your reservations about intruding on their lives, they had welcomed you with open arms into their little family. Never again did you doubt the validity of your friendships with the boys outside of your relationship with Minho. Chan had been a different story.

You thought maybe he was just quiet around new people, but that proved not to be the case. He was perfectly polite to strangers, acquaintances, all the new girlfriends Jisung seemed to have, everyone. Whenever you stepped out of the room Chan’s entire demeanor shifted, and shifted right back when you returned. Whatever he would be saying would die on his lips and he would retreat out of the conversation almost immediately. He was a moonflower and you were the sun, you closed him up.

When you did have the misfortune of interacting with him, it was charged and short-lived. Whatever you said he automatically disagreed with. If you were all going out as a group, the two of you would argue incessantly until things came to a head in an all-out fight. The hateful things you’d hurl at each other made your mutual friends avoid getting the whole group together at all costs. You recalled a trip you’d all taken out to the country for a day to get away from work and the city.

-

 It started innocently enough, with you and Chan getting stuck in the same car, him driving with you in the passenger’s seat. It’d been a wildly unlucky scenario, but the others had already gotten on the road while you both had work to finish up. The plan had been to just drive yourself, but of course, this was exactly when your roommate had desperately needed the car. In her quest to set you up with Chan, she’d told you she needed to pick her sister up from the airport, which was technically true. After getting in his passenger’s seat you’d wished you’d told her to walk.

Another driver’s careless merge had almost ended in disaster. You’d been sitting in silence driving on the highway for about an hour, a fragile peace over the two of you. Someone had cut Chan off, and reflexively he had thrown his arm across your chest as he hit the brakes to keep you from flying forward. He barely stopped from crashing directly into the car in front of you.

 You were both rattled after the near accident, Chan pulled over and the two of you just sat in silence, processing. You couldn’t remember how long you’d sat there, Chan’s arm resting across your thighs. Tears of relief began pouring down your face. Chan gripped the steering wheel in one hand and took your hand with the other.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Shh, we’re ok. I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” 

His thumb drew circles on the back of your hand for the rest of the drive while he murmured you reassurances. Every so often he would glance at you, such tenderness in his big brown eyes that it made you want to burst. It could’ve been a turning point in your relationship, a gateway to a newfound peace between you, if not for Jisung.

“Channie! Y/Nie! What’s this, huh?” It started the minute Chan had parked the car and opened the door to help you out. Both of you were still rattled, so you gripped his hand back in yours without thinking. Jisung’s taunted relentlessly until Chan snapped.

“Quit it Jisung. We almost got into an accident and she wouldn’t stop bawling. Couldn't drive the rest of the way if she didn't shut up. Keep that bullshit to yourself, we’re still nothing.” You tried not to let more tears fall when he carelessly dropped your hand and pushed his way inside your accommodations. Moments ago he’d been holding your hand so tenderly in his own, now you were left standing there like a fool, 7 pairs of eyes boring into you.

-

You’d tried picking the other’s brains for reasons why Chan might think to treat you so coldly, but they never did anything but sigh and ask to drop it. Even Minho wouldn’t crack, just look at you with heavy eyes. Whenever you asked, a bleak aura overtook your conversant. It wasn’t worth it. There was another instance when you felt as though you had seen beneath his facade. 

-

You’d cornered Chan in Seungmin’s kitchen when everyone had been over for a movie night. It had initially been an accident, you’d only gone to refill Felix’s popcorn bowl when you’d spotted him. His wellbeing wasn’t in the forefront of your mind, but when you’d walked in on him gripping the counter, head down and eyes squeezed shut it’d tugged at your heart. You’d stood still for a moment, assessing what you had been seeing. 

“Are you alright?” 

Had been all you said, deciding to keep it simple. Chan wasn’t the most convivial person you’d ever met, but it wasn’t like him to keep to himself to such an extent. Your heart pounded in your chest when he’d turned his head, those soulful brown eyes that never seemed to be looking at you finally meeting your own. Something flickered in their depths that lit a fire in your heart. It felt as though he’d ravished you with nothing but a glance.

“Yes, just…collecting myself. It’s nothing, please don’t waste your worry on me. Go back to the boys and finish the movie, I'll take care of Felix’s popcorn. Please Y/N, forget this.”  It fell from his lips as casually as the time.

You’d nodded, gasping quietly when his fingers brushed against yours as he took the bowl from your hand. Daring to look up, you saw him already gazing down at you. The ember in his eye from moments ago was now an inferno consuming you. His eyes raked over your body and lingered over your lips. For a moment neither of you moved, fingers barely brushing. 

He’d pulled back so quickly you almost hadn’t realized it. Face on fire, you slunk back to your place at Jeongin’s side and pretended to become absorbed in the movie once again. That had been the longest conversation you’d ever had with him. Barely more than 5 minutes, but it felt as though he’d split you open and seen your heart.

-

Against your will, you felt your face heat up as you recalled the incidents. Those deep brown eyes haunted you, worst of all when it was late at night and you were alone in your bed, with nothing but your desire for him. You were almost there according to your phone, so you pushed the thoughts of Chan from your mind as you walked up to the group of men waiting outside the club.

“Y/N!” Jeongin was the first to greet you, quickly followed by the others as they showered you with welcomes.

“We missed you the other day,” Changbin said as he threw an arm over your shoulder. “You seriously gotta get out more. Come clubbing with us next time! I solemnly swear I will try to get you laid.” He crossed his fingers over his heart in mock solidarity as everyone around him burst into laughter.

“Hey, if all else fails, I’m sure we can arrange something.” He flashed you his million-dollar smile that made all the girls swoon as you keeled over laughing. Any apprehension you’d been harboring before melted away as you leaned into Changbin’s side, so grateful you had a friend like him.

“You better take her out to dinner first if you’re gonna come on her like that.” Came a familiar deep voice from behind you. Feeling two arms wrap around your waist and squeeze, you beamed. Felix had arrived.

“Missed ya,” He said simply, squeezing himself in between you and Changbin. “Where’s Chan?” 

Minho shrugged and Seungmin looked down at his phone, checking for a text. “He should be here any minute now.” 

“I’m here.” 

Stiffening, you tried to keep your cool as Chan’s voice drifted over your head. He walked up behind Jeongin and Hyunjin. His presence was august- powerful and noticeable, even unintentionally. Words flowed from his plush lips like poems, composed for the sole purpose of- 

What were you thinking? You were talking about Chan. Get a grip.

 “Let’s go birthday boy, it’s cold outside.” His symphonic voice reverberated through you, throwing you even further off balance than you were before.

“Hell yeah!” Hyunjin took off like a bullet searching for the ‘perfect place to sit’, a fruitless endeavor for him as he would be spending all night on the dance floor anyway. Jisung and Minho followed dutifully after him and the rest of the boys disappeared to get drinks. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you realize they had split up, leaving you alone with Chan. Swallowing, you stared down at your sensible but pointedly bland work clothes, feeling like a fool for not dressing better. The looming reality of Chan’s presence beside you made you feel meek, and you wilted like a flower in the sun.

“Y/N, Chan!” The saving grace of Minho’s voice wafted over to you. “Why are you two just standing around, come on! It’s my birthday, drink in my honor!” 

He shoved mysterious fruity cocktails into both your hands and whisked you over to the booth Hyunjin had procured. Everyone was talking and laughing, fully relaxed and blissfully unaware of how world-shattering it was when Chan’s arm brushed against your own as the two of you sat down. 

Conversation flowed and you nodded along, doing your best to stay engaged and your mind ran wild. Nimble fingers brushed your waist every so often as Chan shifted to reach across the table for another drink. Each time you felt thunderstruck.

“Alright, the party starts now. Shots!” 

Changbin appeared seemingly out of thin air with more shots than you’d ever seen in one place. The sight of so much liquor was daunting on its own, never mind that you’d have to drink it. What would they think if you got too drunk? Would your makeup still look ok? What if you made a fool of yourself? What would Chan-

“Get out of your head Y/N! We’re letting loose here, none of your worrying. We gotta party like we did in college, do it for Minho!” Changbin slid you a shot. You squirmed in your seat, unable to escape your thoughts. “C’mon Y/N!” A chorus of ‘Yeahs’ and ‘Come ons’ drowned out your inner voice, and before you knew it you’d thrown your head back, downing whatever Changbin had given you. 

Slamming the shot glass on the table, you leaned back in the booth and smiled. Everyone celebrated you taking the first shot by following suit with their own. Glancing around the table at your friends laughing, your eyes landed on Chan. It made you frown when you noticed the number of glasses he’d accumulated this early on in the night. 

But Changbin was right, everyone was. Worrying about Chan had never done you any good. Every time you brought up your insecurities about him, they shut you down. They knew it was eating you up inside, you didn’t deserve to agonize. If all he was ever going to do was ice you out, you wouldn’t waste another moment. Throwing back another shot, you let the warmth of the alcohol tingle through your body. This was nice, maybe you did need to get out more.

“That’s it, I’m dancing. Don’t ask me for anything, I don’t know you.” Hyunjin predictably made his escape from the group first, making a beeline for the first attractive person he saw. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your newfound lack of interest in what Chan thought of you, but you followed after him with Jeongin and Jisung in tow.

You felt a slight prickle of nervousness as you made it to the dance floor, you hadn’t done something like this in a long time. Before you could even begin to think, Jisung grabbed your hand and pulled you up against him. Jeongin joined in, and the three of you danced like lunatics. 

You loved the boys dearly, but not quite in that way, so drunk dancing sandwiched between the two of them had no consequences. They didn’t care, so why should you? It was freeing to feel desired. Basking in the attention, you dragged them closer as the alcohol removed your inhibition. It felt selfish being the center of attention, you laved yourself in it. 

-

Chan scowled down at his crossed hands. He knew he was bringing down the mood with how much he was drinking, but what else was he supposed to do? 

“Chan, man, I think you should call it quits pretty soon.” Seungmin was the first to break the silence. It’d been almost 30 minutes since you’d left, and the tension had only been building since. Felix and Minho nodded, and Changbin put his hand on Chan’s shoulder.

“M’ fine. Don’t worry about me, especially not on your birthday, Minho.” He mumbled, unable to look his friends in the eyes. His heart clenched knowing he was worrying them, the boys he’d grown to love like brothers. 

Ordinarily, he’d listen. No, ordinarily he’d have never let himself get so out of control. But tonight was different, the feelings he’d been trying so hard to keep inside were forcing their way out. It was stupid, how badly he’d been pinned beneath the weight of his feelings and the reality of his predicament. How can you love someone you barely know?

“Dude, clearly something’s up. Spit it out, I’m not doing the run-around tonight.” Distinct finality was embedded in Minho’s statement. No wasn’t an answer he could get away with this time. This was his comeuppance for closing himself off for so long. If the truth wasn’t going to come out on its own, it was going to be forced out. Before he could stop himself, the words he’d spent countless nights agonizing over and carefully planning tumbled out of him in a drunken slur.

“M’ in love with Y/N. ‘Know it’s stupid, she barely knows me. Didn’t mean for it to happen, jus’ did.” 

Nothing happened. The world kept turning. Chan kept breathing. People danced around them and the words just sat there, quiet and raw. His throat felt tight and his sternum ached with the painful reality of what had just happened.

“Sorry. ‘Knew I shouldn’t have said shit. Gotta keep staying away from her, can’t mess anything up for you guys. ‘Jus forget it, I-”

“Chan, you’re kidding.” Felix was the first to regain his composure while the others gawked at him. “Are you so dense that you don’t realize what you’re doing to her? Can you seriously not tell that she cares about you, that she wants to be near you, to know you no matter how much you push her away? I mean, is it really that difficult to imagine that she might-”

Felix’s voice became nothing but a dim buzzing in the back of Chan’s mind as he stumbled out of his seat. Wherever you were, he was going to find you.

-

Heat crashed over you in waves as your partner’s hands ran down the sides of your body. At some point, you’d gotten tangled up with this handsome stranger, and you had no desire to part from him. Jeongin and Jisung each paired off with a different woman, just as lost in their respective moments as you were. Minho and Changbin were drunkenly dancing, not a care in the world apparent to either of them. Hyunjin seemed to be having the best night of all, he was nowhere to be found.

The music peaked and you pressed your back against your partner’s chest, sighing out as his lips met your neck. You think his name was Jay, but you’d forgotten it the minute his hands had come to rest on your hips. Whoever he was, he’d managed something no one had been able to since you’d met Chan, he’d made you feel bold. You twirled around in his arms as he spun you to face him, your lips inches apart. Fingers threaded themselves between the curls at the nape of your neck. You were so close to kissing him that it made your body vibrate. Just one more inch.

“Get off my girl.” You stiffened in his arms, sobering up like you’d been splashed. That couldn’t be his voice, yet it was unmistakable who’s hand was curling around your waist.

“Your girl?” Jay said, clearly reluctant to release you.

“Yeah, my girl.” He tugged you forward into his chest, and Jay quietly slipped away into the throng. Whatever appeal he had provided for you vanished into nothingness as Chan’s hand came up to hold the back of your head, the other wrapping around your waist. His eyes bore into yours, swimming with something you couldn’t place. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as you noticed his eyes flick downwards.

Chan stared at your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red like a Roman beauty. You stared back at him, his large arms still locked tightly around you. Neither of you made any indication of releasing the other. The people dancing and the sounds of the music faded into the background as you stood in his arms. It felt as though his gravity had finally sucked you in, with the way he was looking at you, you knew there was no escaping your feelings for him now. 

My girl, my girl, my girl.

[legendary-lunatic]

Okay, So I just finished binge watching all four Despicable Mes in one day, and I gotta say that I did not care for the fourth movie.

It was disappointing… which is a shame, because Maxime Le Mal is awesome.

The concept of a cockroach villain, is epic. He had a great character design, a fun personality, and he had past conflict with Gru.

The problem with the fourth movie is that it is not plot driven enough and instead keeps splicing screen time for family fluff moments and side characters like Poppy.

Poppy, as much as I thought she was a fun presence, was NOT needed in the movie, and neither was all of that Safe House Country Club shit. Why would they go out of their way to say ‘Hey Gru? Let’s stop acting like the grumpy protagonist we love and instead behave completely out of character so you can pretend you like playing tennis.’ It was unnecessary and not what we needed from a character we have grown to find charming because of the way he can be both kind and a grumpy asshole. (Like Shrek.) Shrek does not belong at a country club, and neither does Gru.

We introduce a villain school that Gru went to only to not only completely avoid talking about him or the school in that context, but bring it up again solely for an irrelevant character who overall contributes nothing the the story at hand.

All of the other films in some way had a proactivity to them that kept the main antagonist in mind, and this film does not work because they keep shoving Maxime to the side. They should have completely scrapped all the minion fantastic four hero parody crap and stayed focused on the overall narrative and developing the new central antagonist.

It would have been fantastic if we had gotten more background on the conflict between Gru and Maxime. Apparently they had a little rivalry or just generally were jerks to each other in school as we find out that not only did Gru steal his song, Maxime pantsd him in front of the school, not to mention how they interacted in the beginning of the film, so clearly there is bad blood. This is the first villain that had conflict with Gru specifically, and it would have been an excellent central plot point to focus on his early life, or a great way to develop a villain that’s built out of personal grudge rather than inherently destructive ambition like the others.

And instead that was SQUANDERED by this absolutely directionless travesty. Maxime’s girlfriend, first of all, was useless and distracting. All the little cutaway moments and side stories were unnecessary, and overall it was incredibly disappointing to have a guy that can CONTROL COCKROACHES do absolutely nothing with them. He could be strong and invulnerable, He could have been mutating more people, controlling swarms, he could have been going after Gru more intensely and talking about how they bullied each other and that could have been very interesting.

But no. This is the only film in which the main antagonist takes such a back seat that he can effectively be cut from the film and it would hardly impact a thing. Maxime had potential and stage presence, and they did nothing with it in favor of fluff.

And Listen, LISTEN, fluff isn’t bad, I love their family- but it should not comprise 98% of the film!!! It should be wedged into little moments between plot points. Even Despicable Me 3, which had a bizarre out of left field twin plot, handled their villain with more respect and managed to tie in the two narratives in a way that culminated in a final act that was satisfying to all the characters.

Brat had charisma and was a genuine threat and was present enough in the story that he was still necessary to the story overall because he and his diamond were the reason Gru lost his job and he and his brother did the heist to retrieve it. By the end of the first half of the film we knew that Brat was a washed up star that peaked in his childhood and was trapped in his nostalgia, and he had a fully fleshed out motivation and draw to him despite being rather simple that allowed us to indulge in his quirks. His pathetic nostalgic personality CARRIES that film because it’s funny and endearing and believable because we’ve all met someone like that.

But Maxime is not such a simple character by design because his motivations are relationship focused- and in this film they spend most of the time running away from Maxime, which is counter intuitive and lets us understand absolutely nothing about the guy. Because they didn’t delve deeper, Le Mal’s motivations were weak, and thus the overall STORY was weak. We don’t even know why he has such an intense hyper fixation on cockroaches that he would literally roachify himself and make that his central theme!!!

Why didn’t Lucy and the kids go to the safe house and Gru could stay to deal with his rival? It doesn’t make sense!!! And the AVL was doing nothing about the threat at all and instead was being ridiculous by giving the minions super powers? Ineptitude to the point of absurdity. What is the point of going to a safe house if they aren’t trying to resolve the issue and then Gru does it anyway?!!!!

Brain dead. Disappointing. On every level.

They didn’t even resolve the personal conflicts the girls were having, what with Margo having trouble at school and Agnes not liking telling lies! What was the point?!

The animation may have been pretty, but the plot was weak. The character motivations were weak because they didn’t expand on them. There were thousands of directions they could have gone with this film and they chose to go NOWHERE.

The best part of the film is the end, and only because we got to see Maxime be relevant for three minutes and it implies that they’ve managed to wrap up their implied but borderline nonexistent rivalry. And we got two seconds of Brat dancing way too over sensually to ‘Rule the World’ because it’s an 80s song (the power of character consistency)

I don’t like hearing ‘ItS JuSt a KiDs FiLm’- NO. Pandering to children is not an excuse for bad writing in family media, and this franchise has been out long enough that it has an audience larger than just kids. Kids media and family media deserve better and should still have good narrative standards. Do not insult our intelligence by giving us content without purpose. It costs millions of dollars and months upon years to make a film nowadays, there is no excuse for not sitting down and coming up with a decent story direction and cohesive plan. A family film can be enjoyable for little ones and still have depth to it-

Family movies have been getting insanely messy lately with their story content because they think seeing characters we like regurgitated at us with good animation is enough to keep the company afloat and appease everyone, and it’s irritating. Dig deeper, have some respect for your craft. Keep our expectations high to keep us coming back!

I love the Despicable Me world and characters, but honestly this was such a disjointed film that it was almost hard to enjoy because I just kept waiting for something, anything to happen, and was utterly let down.

Maxime Le Mal deserved better as a villain, and this film deserved better. This franchise deserved better. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Magic feeling

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Request: Andrew Peter parker x male reader, rich reader spoiling peter cause he knows how hard he works and how tired he is at the end of it, maybe Peter liking the gifts and attention but he really just wants to be held by his boyfriend above all

Peter had a horrible day at work and he is happy to be home. You have been living with your boyfriend for a year now, you love it. Peter kissed you on the lips and you have your arms around him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

Peter works at the Daily Bugle as a photographer.

“My boss was being an ass today. He is making me hate my job every day” Peter said.

“Why not look for another job?” You asked.

“I have been looking but no luck” Peter sighed.

“You should let me help. Maybe do photography for another company? My dad knows a few people” You said.

“I can't ask you to do that, babe,” Peter said.

“Just think about it, okay?” You said.

“Okay, I will think about it,” Peter said.

“Wait, right here” You smiled.

You come back with a gift bag and you give it to him. He takes out the box from the gift bag and his eyes open wider, now he is speechless.

“I can't believe you got this camera for me, Y/n. But how!? This camera is super expensive. That is a dumb question I just asked, I know you got it…” Peter said.

Peter knows that you come from a rich family and your family owns half of the city. But you aren't like other rich guys who treat everyone like crap. You met Peter when he worked at the country club one summer as the towel boy. You and Peter became friends then he asked you out, and he makes you happy.

“I'm guessing you like it?” You asked.

“I like it, Y/n. But you didn't have to buy it for me” Peter said.

“I wanted to” You smiled.

You like to spoil him with gifts and take him to expensive restaurants. Peter never once asked you to buy him anything or ask for money. He does like the gifts you buy for him but he isn't used to it.

“Y/n, you don't have to buy me gifts all the time. I appreciate what you give me and you don't have to buy my love. You are the only guy I want to be with. Sometimes, I just want my boyfriend to hold me and tell me it will be okay” Peter said.

“I saw my dad buy gifts for my mom every time and expensive gifts. I thought everyone was like that” You said.

“I’m not after the gifts or your money, you know that Y/n. I really like being with you and you make me happy” Peter said.

“You make me happy too, Peter,” You said.

Peter his arms around you then he starts to kiss you.

You and Peter changed into pajamas, then you put on his favorite movie on TV. You lie down on the bed, then he lies his head on your chest, and tho wrap your arms around him.

“Comfortable?” You asked.

“Yes. You are so soft” Peter said and he snuggled on you.

You kiss his head and you start to play with his hair.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✫

Peter got hurt saving people from Dr. Curtis as a lizard. His suit got ruined and has a scar on his chest and you are cleaning his wound. You know he is Spiderman because he saved you and then told you.

“The suit is badly ruined,” Peter said.

“We can fix it together,” You said.

“We could try,” Peter said.

Later, you help Peter fix his suit. Then you convinced him to upgrade his suit and maybe add technology to the suit. But for now, you stitch the holes in his suit while he stitches his mask.

Later, you and cuddle on the couch. You have your arm around him and Peter has his head on your chest.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Claire Wang at The Guardian:

Those who failed to produce papers were arrested. More than 400 people were detained and forced on a train back to Mexico, a place many had never been.

It’s a scene many fear will come to pass in president-elect Donald Trump’s second term, especially after he doubled down on a campaign promise to “launch the largest deportation operation” in US history, and confirmed he would use the military to execute hardline immigration policies. But this particular episode happened in 1931, as part of an earlier era of mass deportations that scholars say is reminiscent of what is unfolding today. The La Placita sweep became the first public immigration raid in Los Angeles, and one of the largest in a wave of “repatriation drives” that rolled across the country during the Great Depression. Mexican farm workers, indiscriminately deemed “illegal aliens”, became scapegoats for job shortages and shrinking public benefits. President Herbert Hoover’s provocative slogan, “American jobs for real Americans”, kicked off a spate of local legislation banning employment of anyone of Mexican descent. Police descended on workplaces, parks, hospitals and social clubs, arresting and dumping people across the border in trains and buses.

Nearly 2 million Mexican Americans, more than half US citizens, were deported without due process. Families were torn apart, and many children never again saw their deported parents. Hoover’s Mexican repatriation program is, among mass deportation efforts in the past, most similar to Trump’s stated plans, said Kevin R Johnson, a professor of public interest law and Chicana/o studies at the University of California, Davis, School of Law. [...] Since his first presidential run, Trump has invoked President Dwight D Eisenhower’s mass deportation program as a blueprint for his own agenda. During the second world war, the US and Mexican government enacted the Bracero program that allowed Mexican farm hands to temporarily work in the US. But many growers continued to hire undocumented immigrants because it was cheaper. In 1954, the Eisenhower administration cracked down on undocumented labor by launching “Operation Wetback”, a yearlong series of raids named after a racial epithet for people who illegally crossed the Rio Grande. [...] The politics of deportation have always contained an important “racial dimension”, said Mae Ngai, a historian whose book Impossible Subjects explores how illegal migration became the central issue in US immigration policy.

Trump has deployed racist tropes against various ethnic groups, including Mexicans as drug-dealing “rapists” and Haitians as pet eaters, while lamenting a lack of transplants from “nice”, white-majority countries like Denmark and Switzerland. Last month, sources close to the president told NBC News that he could prioritize deporting undocumented Chinese nationals. “He’s been very clear about going after people of color, people from ‘shithole countries,’” she said, referring to a 2018 remark from Trump about crisis-stricken nations like El Salvador and Haiti. Trump could plausibly deport a million people using military-style raids of the Eisenhower-era, Ngai said, but it is unlikely that he can expel 11 million undocumented immigrants. (According to an estimate by the American Immigration Council, deporting 1 million people a year would cost more than $960bn over a decade.) Still, Ngai said, his rhetoric alone could foment fear and panic in immigrant communities. But Eisenhower’s immigration approach also differed from Trump’s in notable ways, Ngai said. Though the administration did launch flashy raids, it also allowed farm owners to rehire some deportees through the Bracero program, essentially creating a pathway for authorized entry into the US. So far, Ngai said, Trump has hammered down on deportations without providing an option for legal immigration or naturalization. “He doesn’t know the whole story of ‘Operation Wetback’,” she said. Deportations also appear to have harmed the local economy.

Donald Trump’s mass deportation proposal hasn’t been the first time the US conducted mass deportations of Mexican-Americans, as it happened during the Herbert Hoover and Dwight D. Eisenhower’s presidencies. The deportations were ruinous to economies and were a human rights disaster, and Trump’s plan repeats that but turbocharges it.

[cal-flakes]

i am completely obsessed with this whole soft dom dealer rafe, and i was wondering if you could just make a head canon of how he’s an asshole to everyone but her

the comfort in realising others think the same as me is amazing AHHHHH

╰┈➤ dealer!rafe hc’s

warnings: swearing, slightly nsfw, mentions of drugs and weapons.

: ̗̀➛ rafe cameron was an asshole, everyone in the outerbanks knew it very well.

: ̗̀➛ most people avoided him, whether that was down to him just being a complete dick, or the lifestyle he got himself mixed up in.

: ̗̀➛ he wasn’t a huge people person, and he certainly didn’t trust easily.

: ̗̀➛ he spent most of his time with barry, cutting deals and selling drugs together.

: ̗̀➛ that was until she came along.

: ̗̀➛ she, with the most contagious smile, who demanded his attention without even realising it.

: ̗̀➛ she was a sweet girl, too kind for her own good.

: ̗̀➛ she was the exact opposite of rafe cameron.

: ̗̀➛ but that was what drew him to her.

: ̗̀➛ he’d turn up at the wreck, where she worked, almost everyday and offer her a ride home.

: ̗̀➛ she always turned it down, hesitant to get mixed up with the man she’d heard so many bad things about.

: ̗̀➛ but he wasn’t like that with her, not at all.

: ̗̀➛ he was ecstatic the day she agreed.

: ̗̀➛ it became a routine from then on, he’d go about his shady business during the day, drive over to the wreck and wait for her shift to finish.

: ̗̀➛ they’d sit there for an hour or so, talking about anything and everything.

: ̗̀➛ once a relationship was established between the two, he was down bad.

: ̗̀➛ and when his friends mentioned it? oh he hated that shit.

: ̗̀➛ “man, you’ve snatched up a hidden gem country club!”

: ̗̀➛ “shut up barry”

: ̗̀➛ “hey top, you think rafe’s boned her yet? i heard y/n’s a prude, never lets up..”

: ̗̀➛ “keep her fucking name out of your mouth”

: ̗̀➛ little did they know, she was bending to his will every night, literally.

: ̗̀➛ he adored the way she was everything he wasn’t, that was what made them such a good pair.

: ̗̀➛ she was a sworn rafe cameron sympathiser, she knew he could be mean, she knew he could be violent, but she also knew why.

: ̗̀➛ he kept her away from his family the best he could, not wanting them to taint her anymore than he already had.

: ̗̀➛ he struggled when it came to his sisters however, y/n got along so well with them. and though he’d never admit it, it warmed his heart.

: ̗̀➛ “hey, where you going princess?”

: ̗̀➛ “oh, wheezie said she needed help with something..”

: ̗̀➛ “hm..she never asked me..”

: ̗̀➛ “maybe she just prefers a happy soul? someone who lightens the mood?”

: ̗̀➛ “oh shut up, im not that bad”

: ̗̀➛ “oh yes you are, you big grump”

: ̗̀➛ the doors to an insiders take on his lifestyle we’re double locked, for her at least.

: ̗̀➛ the last thing he wanted was for her to end up hurt, in anyway.

: ̗̀➛ and keeping her away from that, staying quiet about the soft girlfriend he had back at home, was his best bet.

: ̗̀➛ but when his worst nightmare came true? when she was nabbed by some nasty people before she arrived at work, he couldn’t think straight.

: ̗̀➛ if anything he himself got meaner, more volatile.

: ̗̀➛ he stopped at nothing to make sure he got her home safely, he and barry stocked up on firearms before storming the house she was being kept in for ransom.

: ̗̀➛ his heart almost broke in half when he saw her frail, broken state.

: ̗̀➛ “i’ve got you angel, i’ve got you..”

: ̗̀➛ where he could help it, he swore to never let her out of his sight again.

: ̗̀➛ from then, he was always a few week behind her, scanning the areas they frequented for threats.

: ̗̀➛ wherever she went, rafe cameron was never far behind.

: ̗̀➛ she had him wrapped around her little finger.

[chelseachilly]

karma is my boyfriend

pairing: reader x mason mount summary: you face some backlash online after your relationship with mason goes public. he reminds you not to worry too much about the haters (with a little help from taylor swift) warnings: suggested smut (no actual smut though), mostly just fluff and some hurt/comfort ft. protective mason!! word count: 2.2k

author’s note: hi! this is my first mason fic, the idea for which came to me while listening to midnights (for the millionth time lol) pls let me know what you think!

There are a lot of things you have grown to love in your first few months dating Mason Mount.

You love his contagious smile and how his positivity improves the lives of everyone around him. You love waking up in his bed to him kissing your neck and murmuring “good morning, baby” in a hoarse, sleepy voice. You love watching him play football, his passion for the game so obvious and moving.

Mostly, you love him. You’ve known it from your second or third date, and it took everything in you not to admit it until he finally let those big three words slip while cuddling on his couch a few weeks ago. Now that you’ve both admitted it, telling him you love him is easier than breathing.

However, there are also things you don’t love about dating Mason Mount.

You’ve managed to keep your relationship under wraps for the first few months, with only your friends and family in on it. You haven’t posted each other on social media or taken many public outings together. When you have done for dinner or out with friends, you’ve been discreet in case there were any cameras around.

Until last week, when you were leaving a club with Ben and Kai and their girlfriends, both you and Mason too tipsy to care about potential paparazzi. The next morning, photos of the two of you kissing on the sidewalk were on the front page of the Sun. And the Daily Mail. And just about every other shitty tabloid in the country.

The Sun @TheSun ✔️- 6d Spotted: Chelsea star Mason Mount kissing possible new girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N outside popular Kensington nightclub!

You aren’t famous by any means, but because of your job in PR - Chelsea FC among your firm’s client base - the media was able to identify you. The fact that Mason and half the rest of the team follow you on social media made it fairly easy to confirm.

You’re well-versed in advising other people how to handle being in the public eye, but this is the first time you’ve had to deal with it yourself. So far, it’s been tougher than you expected.

Due to Mason’s ex-girlfriend being considerably more well-known than you, her fan base has taken to sending you death threats on social media, commenting on your old photos with digs at your appearance.

You know that you shouldn’t let these internet trolls get to you, but you can’t help yourself from scrolling through your socials, watching them continue to pour in.

You insist to Mason that you’re fine, and though it’s clear he doesn’t entirely believe you, you manage to convince him not to post about it or do anything rash. You tell him it will all blow over within a couple weeks.

It will blow over, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt right now. And when you come home from work one day, already tired and stressed and feeling low on self-esteem, only to read a tweet about how you’re an “ugly slag who doesn’t deserve Mason”, you reach a breaking point.

This is how Mason finds you when he gets to your place after training. You’re curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, scrolling on your phone and crying so hard you feel sick.

“Y/n, what happened?” he exclaims, running to your side and kneeling next to you. “Are you in pain?”

You shake your head, barely able to speak. You pass him your phone so he can read for himself - you’ve been trying to hide most of it from him thus far, but you don’t think you can anymore.

As he scrolls through the comments on your latest Instagram post - a simple picture of you and your sister - you can see visible anger on his face, his jaw clenched. Mason isn’t often angry, and you haven’t seen this level of rage on his face even after a bad ref call or a lost match.

“Mase…” you say quietly, attempting to calm him down, but he just shakes his head.

“This is ridiculous,” he says in disbelief, tossing your phone on the couch cushion next to you. “Why the fuck would they comment those things? They know nothing about you!”

“They’re just trolls, your ex has quite the fan base,” you explain, sitting up and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, it’s just been a lot.”

“Of course it has, baby,” Mason says, his face softening as he climbs up onto the couch to pull you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.”

You immediately melt into his side, letting his touch comfort you. It’s amazing how quickly your negative thoughts fade away in his arms, how being with him makes everything better.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumble into his chest.

“I know, but I should still do something about it,” Mason sighs. “I’ll put out a statement asking them to back off.”

“Thanks, love, but that’s not necessary,” you tell him. “They’re mostly her fans, not yours, so you issuing a statement won’t have much impact.”

Mason sighs again in defeat - he knows that you’re the expert in this area, but it’s clear that he just wants to do something to help.

“Well, I can text her, ask if she’ll say something to her annoying fans.”

You know that he and his ex ended on somewhat okay terms, but you also know that he really would rather not contact her unless absolutely necessary.

“Mase, it’s really okay,” you say gently. “I’m not gonna ask you to do that. Us dating will be old news in a week, I’ll just keep a low profile on socials from now on or go private or something, and we can be more careful about being spotted-“

“You shouldn’t have to, though,” he grumbles, his hand squeezing your knee. “I hate this. We should be able to go out and do stuff and post pictures together without people sending you awful messages.”

“I know, babe, but this is just how it is,” you say, leaning in to peck his lips quickly. “It’s alright. I feel better already, I swear.”

It’s true - you do feel much better now that he’s home, and you decide to turn off both of your phones for the rest of the night.

You settle into the couch with a movie playing and order a bunch of takeaway and have a wonderful evening together. At some point, you even forget all about the haters on the internet, content to focus on your boyfriend.

-

The next morning, it’s Saturday, and Mason asks when you wake up if you feel like coming to the match today.

You’ve come to many of his matches before, both for Chelsea and England, but never since the public has known you’re his girlfriend. You know if you go today there will be people taking your picture and staring at you, even if they don’t mean any harm.

Given the toll this past week has taken, you just don’t have that in you right now.

“I’m so sorry, Mase,” you say, running a hand through his hair. “You know how badly I want to be there and support you, but I-“

“You don’t have to explain, baby, I completely understand,” he says, holding your waist. “I’ll miss having you there, but I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe and happy at home. Just call if you need anything.”

“Won’t you be a little busy, you know, playing football?” you tease, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his lips lightly.

Mason just chuckles. “They can sub me off for all I care.”

“Don’t say that!” you gasp, biting your lip to keep from smiling. “I’ll be watching on the telly, and I expect a goal from you, mister.”

“Anything for my girl,” Mason flashes you a cocky grin, which suddenly makes you desperately wish he didn’t have to leave right now so you could shove him back into bed and kiss it off him. “Alright, I’m gonna be late. One more kiss for luck?”

You oblige, leaning in to kiss him and running your hands through his hair. Once you pull back, he must sense your lingering disappointment at not being able to come today, because he gives you a reassuring look and cups your face in both hands.

“Try not to let those pricks online get to you, okay?” he reminds you. “It’s like that Taylor Swift song you always play. Karma’s on your side, baby.”

You laugh out loud - you’ve gone from Mason enduring you constantly playing Taylor songs when you started dating to him now requesting certain ones every time you get in the car. Not that he would ever let the boys find out, of course.

“Alright, now go before you miss warm-ups,” you smile, kissing him once more and then pushing him away.

A couple hours later, you settle in on your couch to watch the match against Tottenham. You know Chelsea are favoured to win, but you still let out a sigh of relief when Kai scores the first goal in the first twenty minutes.

In the second half, they maintain a strong defense, Kepa successfully blocking more than one strong attempt from the Spurs’ forwards.

With ten minutes to spare, Ben has possession and is moving quickly toward the goal. You assume he’s going to pass to Kai, and the other goalkeeper does too, as he’s on the entirely wrong end of the net when Ben passes to Mason. Mason shoots from a clearly onside position and scores in the top right corner of the net, resulting in thunderous applause at the Bridge.

You jump up from the couch, a huge grin on your face as you watch your boyfriend and his teammates huddle in celebration.

When the camera pans to Mason, he points right at the lens and blows a kiss with a small wink. Your heart soars in your chest as you realize he’s dedicating it to you.

Your chest full of pride and love for this man, you are suddenly reminded of why this is all worth it. It’s worth it to face any backlash that might come from being in the public eye because, at the end of the day, this wonderful guy who just scored a goal for his team on national television is coming home to you. And that’s all that matters.

The match ends with Chelsea winning 2-0. Barely over an hour later, you hear the key turning in your door, and you run to greet him.

The moment the door opens, you jump at him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. Mason catches you immediately and hugs you just as close, burying his face in your hair.

After a minute, you pull back to hold his face in both hands and kiss him senseless, making him moan slightly as you tug gently at his hair. You kiss until you’re out of breath, and then you slowly pull away and Mason eases you back down to your feet, remaining in each other’s arms.

“If this is what I get for scoring a goal, I think the club is going to be very happy with my performance this season,” he smiles, stroking your hair.

“I did love the goal, and I really loved the celebration,” you smile, running your thumb over the dimple in his cheek. “But the kiss is because I really love you.”

Mason grins even wider before sliding his hands down to your bum and lifting you up again, beginning to walk the both of you over to your bedroom.

After you’ve had an even better celebration in-between your sheets, you are laying on top of Mason’s chest, complete bliss washing over you as he traces circles on your back and presses kisses to your forehead.

You still can’t believe he’s yours - all yours, as you just very successfully reminded him. But he is, and you’re tired of hiding that.

“Hey, babe, I think I changed my mind about going private on Insta,” you say, propping your chin up on his chest. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I love you and we’re happy and I don’t care who knows that or what they have to say about it.”

Mason smiles and kisses your nose. “I’m all for that, love, but are you certain? I don’t want you getting any more hate.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking of trying a new strategy,” you smirk. “Like you said, karma will come for those internet trolls who have nothing better to do than comment on my pics. I can’t control that, but I can flaunt my super hot footballer boyfriend who scored a goal for me today.”

You grab your phone and show him the photo you took of the two of you a couple minutes ago, raising an eyebrow.

“Think it’s too much?”

Mason shakes his head, pulling you in for a kiss and grinning when you pull back. “It’s perfect. ‘Gram it, baby.”

You laugh and affectionately roll your eyes at him before opening the app and crafting your post, confidently sending it out into the world. Immediately after hitting post, you toss your phone aside and Mason pulls you in for another round, making you giggle with kisses to your neck.

You don’t check your phone until much later, and funnily enough, any hate is drowned out by many comments from both your friends and Mason’s fans, the majority of which are incredibly supportive.

You scroll through some of them together, laughing with your head still resting on Mason’s chest and his arm wrapped around you, and you know that you made the right call.

yourusername

liked by masonmount, benchilwell, & 32,609 others

yourusername karma is the guy on the screen…coming straight home to me 💙😘

tagged: masonmount

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masonmount 🥰🥰🥰

christianpulisic I am officially blaming you for Mase making us listen to this song in the locker room after the match

yourusername shhh Chris we know you’re a secret swiftie

mountfan19 ok I love this girl for Mason tbh

chelseagirl literally!! they’re so cute

thank you for reading!! 💙