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parfaitblogs · 2 months ago

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state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :( avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend.

Or, rather, your cat did.

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided.

But you did not love him, and he did not love you.

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid.

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything.

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you.

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold.

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along.

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence.

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing.

Should be, but weren't.

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were.

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh.

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses.

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence.

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?"

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him.

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said.

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you.

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop.

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you.

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke.

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers.

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual.

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it.

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere.

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you

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lifeinked · 1 month ago

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Why I Love Caitlyn, and Why You Hate Her

⚠️ READER DISCRETION: I am not condoning Caitlyn’s actions and behavior, I am simply exploring the depth of her character and explaining what motivated her pursuit of revenge.

There’s no denying the gravity of Caitlyn’s actions as they are unquestionably wrong. However, her character cannot be reduced to these actions alone. This sudden, devastating behavior of hers is shaped by a thread of complex motivations and circumstances, but many choose not to acknowledge this simply because of her elite background.

Like many others, I initially overlooked the point of the gassing in Zaun, which I think is a crucial thing everyone must first understand before diving into the discourse over Caitlyn's character.

The Grey, often misunderstood as being used indiscriminately, was strategically deployed against the Chem-Barons to limit collateral damage. Caitlyn chose precision over chaos, targeting those directly responsible for Zaun’s turmoil. Furthermore, Caitlyn didn’t kill the Chem-Barons; she captured them, with net-deploying bullets. While her methods are controversial, they reflect a calculated approach; mischaracterizing her raid as a reckless attack ignores these details.

This isn’t to deny or excuse the fact that Caitlyn did, indeed, gas Zaun. Who’s to say that gas didn’t seep into the streets where innocent Zaunites roamed, harming them in the process? It’s entirely possible that innocents were affected and devastated. However, my brief explanation is only added to gain better perspective over the objectives of the gassing itself.

Now moving on, despite her privileged upbringing, Caitlyn shows a genuine effort to understand and connect with Zaunites. She places her trust in Vi, a Zaunite she’s never met before, to guide her in her search for Silco. Her journey through the undercity opens her eyes to the struggles of its people, challenging her perspective.

In S1E4, when investigating the airship attack, she encounters an undercity resident and reassures him, “I can protect you.” Later in the season, when Vi gets stabbed, Caitlyn encounters someone formerly connected to Vi. He’s grown a distaste over himself due to his appearance, and yet Caitlyn embraces him with compassion and tenderness, as a silent sign of gratitude. Then, she surrenders her cherished firearm—her only means of protection—in return for a healing potion to save Vi. In S1E7, Caitlyn’s heartfelt monologue in her conversation with Ekko perfectly captures her hope and determination: “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized. Please, let me help you.”

When Caitlyn and Vi stand in front of the Council, Caitlyn declares: “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the undercity. Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there. People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords.” This monologue alone shows how Caitlyn embodies optimism, believing in the inherent goodness of people, even Zaunites. It also shows that she is very willing to fight for them; she sees helping Zaunites as an act of bringing justice and equality into this world.

Many overlook the depth of Cassandra and Caitlyn’s relationship, reducing it to a simple narrative of a daughter mourning her mother. However, Caitlyn’s mourning is more layered than that. Throughout her life, she has been rebellious, driven by a desire to uncover the reality her mother tried to shield her from. In S1E4, Caitlyn reflects on this by saying, “She’d do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.” Caitlyn’s defiance wasn’t just rebellion for its own sake—it was a stand for her ideals. She sought enlightenment and understanding, even if it meant stepping outside the privileged bubble her mother built for her. By venturing into the undercity and aligning herself with Vi, Caitlyn rejected her mother's own ideals.

Here's another scene in S1E8 that emphasizes this:

Cassandra: You're a Councilor's daughter. Your actions reflect on the entire body. Caitlyn: My actions? You know what else reflects on the Council? Its citizens living on the streets. Being poisoned. Having to chose between a kingpin who wants to exploit them and a government who doesn't give a shit!

In a way, her actions mirror Vi’s: just as Vi betrayed her people by working with the enforcers, Caitlyn betrayed her own mother by involving herself with Zaunites. Remember: The last time we see Caitlyn and Cassandra interact on-screen is during Caitlyn’s plea before the Council. And in that moment, Caitlyn was fighting to protect the very kind that would soon kill her own mother.

You say that Caitlyn’s drastic shift is unjustified, as she’s only experienced a fraction of the suffering Zaunites have been enduring. But that’s precisely the point! Her transformation shows how personal loss can drive the change of one’s entire character; she’s never experienced loss before which is why it feels so heavy for her. And unlike Zaunites, Caitlyn actually has the power to act on her grief. Zaunites have only known misery their whole lives. When their loved one dies, they know there is nothing more they can do but grieve. They don’t have an inch of the privilege and military support Caitlyn has. If you had given them the same resources as Caitlyn, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring ruin to Piltover. Simply put, they don’t fight Piltovans because they don’t want to, but because they can’t.

When Jinx takes her mother away, her compassionate ideals completely shatter. Having always sought justice and understanding for Zaun, Caitlyn feels deeply betrayed, as her faith in the good within every Zaunite is overturned. Her mother’s death becomes a turning point—driving her to abandon her ideals and adopt Piltover’s disdain for the undercity, finally understanding the resentment many Piltovans harbor.

We also tend to forget that, aside from losing her mother, Caitlyn has directly suffered under the hands of Jinx. Caitlyn was held captive by Jinx in Season 1—and God knows what was done to her during that period. In the tea party scene, we see Caitlyn break down in tears, visibly flinching when Jinx moves toward her. It’s clear that Jinx has traumatized Caitlyn not just once, but twice. These experiences deeply shape Caitlyn’s actions moving forward. The pain and fear she’s endured push her to a place where she’s willing to sacrifice almost anything, even if it means putting a child’s life at risk (Isha's) or severing ties with Vi.

While they share their differences, Caitlyn and Jinx are the perfect example of foil characters. Here’s an instance which proves this: Both allow themselves to be influenced by manipulative, powerful figures all while being in a vulnerable state of mind.

Jinx is haunted by guilt; her attempt to save her family only ended up killing them, leaving her with the crushing weight of self-blame. She clings to Silco, not because he was the father she needed, but because he was the father she wanted. Silco indulged her destructive tendencies, keeping her at an all-time high on the edges of chaos. Fragile and broken, Powder crossed paths with Silco at the right moment; he saw the perfect chance to mold her into someone bewildered, unrestrained, and astray.

Caitlyn has her own Silco: Ambessa, the ruthless Noxian leader with a brutal philosophy of war. Ambessa enters Caitlyn’s life at a pivotal moment, stepping in just as Caitlyn is grappling with the devastating loss of her mother. In a spiral of self-identity, Caitlyn struggles with the weight of Piltover’s expectations and her unresolved guilt over her strained relationship with her mother (as explained in previous paragraphs). Just as young Powder mourns her family, Caitlyn blames herself for the death of her mother. Caitlyn got herself involved with the Zaunites even when she was warned not to, and at the expense of her defiance came the death of her mother. Driven by guilt and a thirst for vengeance, Caitlyn steps fully into her role, declaring in S2E1: “I am a decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman.”

Jinx and Caitlyn share a tragic parallel: they both lose everyone they hold dear. Jinx loses Vi, Vander, Claggor, and Mylo. Caitlyn is left without Cassandra, Vi, Jayce, Mel, and Tobias. Stripped of their support systems, they are left isolated, with no one to confide in or rely on. They become vulnerable, used as pawns in the larger schemes of Silco and Ambessa’s strategic games.

Caitlyn's inner turmoil is exactly why Ambessa’s manipulation is so effective. Caitlyn is compelled to take revenge, but she doesn’t know how to. And without anyone else to guide her, she places her complete trust in Ambessa's expertise. Ambessa doesn’t just give Caitlyn the authority and power to avenge her mother; she teaches her how to use them to their full potential. She toys with Caitlyn's vulnerability, making her adopt the Noxian values of wrath, bloodshed, and ruthlessness.

It’s easy to downplay Caitlyn’s grief since she comes from an elite upbringing. While Cassandra Kiramman is laid to rest in a golden casket with a proper burial, countless innocents in Zaun become victims of merciless violence, being left to die on the streets. After the timeskip however, Caitlyn is shown to recognize the moral cost of her actions. Though the series portrays this realization subtly, it becomes evident that Caitlyn is grappling with the inhumanity and immorality of her pursuit of revenge. In S2E4, this internal conflict comes to light during her conversation with Ambessa. When Ambessa attempts to stoke her fury again, Caitlyn disarms her with a piercing question: “Why is peace always the justification for violence?”

Here's another scene that subtly depicts her realization and remorse:

Caitlyn: You're a monster. Why? Why do all this? Singed: Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? ... For love.

When Caitlyn steps further and sees Orianna, she realizes that Singed's revenge is a reflection of her own: a person grieving the death of their family member. Here, there's a saddened glint in her eyes. She finally understands now, that love and grief made her do things that once seemed so foreign to her. In this case, going against her own principles just to succeed in her revenge.

Caitlyn is now forever haunted by the outcome of her mistakes, but she knows her past cannot be erased. During her confrontation with Jinx in the prison, she admits, “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” While this statement is directed at Jinx, it feels like Caitlyn also holds this against herself for her own wrongdoings.

Caitlyn’s acts of atonement are done quietly. She’s not good with words; she’s bad at articulating how she feels. Ironically, Vi is much better than Caitlyn when it comes to confronting and vocalizing internal conflict. So instead, Caitlyn’s actions speak for herself. By removing the guards at the prison, she tacitly allows Vi the opportunity to rescue Jinx. She knows Vi will come to save her sister, and yet she lets her. She finally lets go of Jinx and the grudge she held against her, as a silent act of her love for Vi.

And in S2E9, Sevika is shown to be sitting among the Councilors. But thanks to a fan's keen eyes, we find out that she is sat particularly on Cassandra Kiramman's chair (which not many notice). By allowing a Zaunite to occupy her mother's seat, Caitlyn gives them a chance to be rightfully represented, a chance for their voices and suffering to finally be heard. It’s a quiet display of Caitlyn’s evolution and willingness to bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun.

That said, Arcane’s ending left much to be desired regarding Caitlyn’s arc. The heavy focus on Hextech overshadowed the sociopolitical dynamics of Piltover and Zaun. This is the main reason a lot of hate is thrown toward Caitlyn—there is an act of accountability, but there a lack of consequence. While Caitlyn acknowledges her mistakes, her privileged status keeps her from real repercussions, unlike the tragedy other characters had to face. This is frustrating, even to me, as someone whose favorite character is Caitlyn. Yet, in a way, it realistically portrays the inequalities in our own world—where the elite are often shielded from justice, and repentance is the closest they ever come to redemption.

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #character analysis #league of legends #caitlyn #essay #in this essay i will #food for thought #i guess we really are a league of legends #caitvi #violyn #arcane vi #season 2 spoilers

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taevjim · 5 months ago

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The Boy Next Door (m) jjk

pairing: gamer boy! jjk x female reader

genre: smut….just smut…

summary: The cute guy next door was really starting to work your nerves after only residing beside you for a couple weeks. You could hardly get much sleep, his hooting and hollering keeping you up at all hours of the night. You grow tired of his antics one late Friday night and decide to confront him for his selfish actions. Who knew gaming wasn’t the only way for Jungkook to keep you up at night…

You lay in bed for the fourth night in a row with a pillow wrapped around your head, hoping to block the sounds of yelling and obnoxious laughing from reaching your ear drums. For the last two weeks, night after night, your neighbor has done absolutely nothing but be the biggest nuisance a person could ever manage being in their life time.

At first you were excited to discover that you had a new neighbor, not very many people residing with you on your floor of the complex. You liked being alone- a true hermit at heart- but the extra company would never hurt anyone, right?

Wrong.

You learned the name of your pesky neighbor- Jungkook. All thanks to the girl he had hanging on his arm like an accessory only a few days prior, unable to stop his name from tumbling from her drunk lips. You took the liberty of going out for once, deciding to go out for drinks with a couple of girls from work.

Being that it was the first time you saw him that night, your eyes curiously landed on him the minute you came off the elevator.

His appearance was more than jaw dropping. He was lean, standing at probably 6’2, and also promisingly buff. His shoulders were broad and the outlines of his muscles through his shirt had you fixated on his figure.

It wasn’t until you noticed the very intoxicated girl hanging from his arm that made you roll you eyes. You try to ignore the giggles as you hurry to your door, hoping he gets inside his apartment before he sees you.

He’s fumbling for his keys from his pockets, almost as intoxicated as the girl he had with him. You can’t help but notice the way she’s all over him. Her hands are jammed up the front of his shirt, shamelessly coping a feel on the man out in the open. However, he doesn’t seem to mind as he’s looking down at her, a smirk on his pretty face.

His hair looked so plush and you couldn’t help but feel a vague pang of jealously at the sight of the girl running her fingers through the dark tresses. He had a piercing on his bottom lip, the way the light hit the metal capturing your attention towards his mouth.

And the bedroom eyes, Jesus.

His eyes bounced back and forth from the keyhole on the door to the girl at his side. He looked down at her in a way you don’t think you’ve ever been looked at in your life. The way his eyelids weighed down with want. His gaze strong and captivating. It was the playful wink he casts that has you in a chokehold.

He wasn’t even looking at you and you were ready to fall apart before the man.

You didn’t realize you’d been staring until his gaze floats over to you. You quickly avert your eyes and shove your key in the door so you could escape the awkward environment.

You don’t miss the sound of his teasing chuckle as you retreat into your apartment, the slam of his apartment door coming only moments after yours.

That’s the night you really started to despise him.

You’re revealed the true intentions behind his company as you lie awake, listening to the sounds of high pitched moans and the thumping from the bed frame hitting the wall. At this time, they had been going at it for going on an hour.

The clock reads 1:07 am and you let out a groan, flopping your head back on the pillow.

After about another thirty minutes of listening to constant moaning and banging against the wall, you hear faint voices out in the hallway. Then the sound of a door closing follows soon after and then silence…

Every night after that, it’s not just sex noises from next door that keep you awake. Now it’s the yelling and laughing that seems to not usually start until around 10pm at night.

You figure it to be video games causing the source of the ruckus, judging by the multiple comments you hear being yelled into the air. Comments like “Dude he’s right there!” “Behind you, behind you!” “Bullshit, I swear I shot him!” “There’s only one left!”

It was beginning to drive you crazy.

You’ve tried banging on the wall back at him, hoping to make it clear that he was being too loud and needed to shut the hell up. Unfortunately, it never worked. You imagine he wouldn’t be able to hear you, or maybe he just didn’t give a shit that he was disturbing you.

Now here you were, going on night four in a row of no sleep due to your next door neighbor.

It wasn’t a constant chain of outbursts. That’s what frustrated you the most. He would get real loud momentarily and then quiet back down just long enough for you to almost fall asleep. Just for him to cry out again and jostle you back awake. It was like a cycle. A never ending cycle that sometimes lasted until 4am.

You groan as you hear him cackle loudly, clearly having no kind of consideration for those who may be sleeping. Or in your case, trying to.

Huffing with anger, you jump up out of bed and bang a couple times on your wall very loudly. “Can you please keep it down?!” You yell through the wall and quickly press your ear against the surface, listening for a response.

Just like every other time, you don’t get one.

You just stand there for a few moments and listen. After a couple minutes of silence, you make your way back to your bed and attempt to get comfortable.

Like clockwork, as soon as you feel yourself start to slowly drift asleep…

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Your eyes slam back open, Jungkook’s loud mouth keeping you from sleep once again.

“I’ve fucking had it.” You grumble to yourself and quickly slip out of bed.

You grab your robe that was sitting on your chair and drape it around your body, angrily tying the string around your waist. You don’t even bother to put shoes on as you make a bee line to the front door.

Swinging it open, you stomp out into the hallway and furiously beat your fist against your neighbor’s door.

It takes a few moments of your fist pounding against the wood before the door swings open and you’re met with your infuriating specimen of a neighbor.

His headset is resting on top of his head, his right ear muff moved off of his ear so he could hear. His glasses sit at the bridge of his nose and his eyes stare back at you through the frames.

He doesn’t even seem interested in the reason behind you banging on his door like you’re a part of the SWAT team as his eyes take in your appearance.

Your robe was tied in a rush, leaving it opened in the front just enough for Jungkook to get an eye full of your cleavage. He also notices the fact that the material doesn’t even cover any further than your mid thigh. It’s evident that you didn’t put much thought into what you’re wearing when his gaze travels up to see the angry look in your eyes.

“Can you please, I will literally get on my knees and beg, please keep it down. You keep me up every night with your—” you frantically point at the device on his head, “—gaming bullshit. Whatever it is you’re doing in here, I don’t care. Just please let me sleep.”

The entirety of your words don’t really reach him, you notice as a devilish smirk forms across his lips.

“Get on your knees and beg, you say?” You just scoff and roll your eyes at his immaturity.

“Of course that’s the only thing you heard me say.”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be too loud for you.”

It’s clear that he’s just teasing you. The urge you possess to just reach over and smack that shit eating grin off of his handsome face slowly starts to take over your body.

“A part of me thinks you just do it on purpose,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him.

He just laughs and then tugs his pretty pink bottom lip between his teeth.

You have to fight the groan that wants to come out of your throat so badly. He was so hot, too hot for his own good. You couldn’t imagine the amount of women this man probably had under his foot at every beck and call. How can someone still manage to be so charming while being a complete ass?

The air suddenly feels colder and you self consciously push your arms in on yourself, wrapping them around your body at the waist.

His eyes flicker down at the movement and his focus pivots to one of your nipples that suddenly grow hard, pebbling just beneath the fabric of your robe. Suddenly, he gives you a sweet smile and widens his door for you a little.

“You cold, pretty? I can help warm you up.”

The look in his eyes is dangerous, a stark contrast to the cute smile he wears on his face.

That’s when you realize how little clothing you actually were wearing, now feeling exposed to his hungry eyes. Alas, his offer still interests you.

You just scoff and slightly peak around his shoulder inside of his apartment. “Warm me up how?” You question.

“Why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you?” He asks, stepping aside to allow you room to enter. You look up at him with curious eyes and you don’t notice the minuscule bob of his adams apple as he gulps.

Sure he was a tease. His ability to get women left and right whenever he wanted had many men wishing they were him. However, that still didn’t mean he didn’t get nervous around a pretty girl. A pretty girl such as yourself was lethal to men like Jungkook.

Girls like you were usually more challenging to acquire. They typically played more hard to get. So naturally, he wasn’t really taking his teasing comments toward you seriously.

He was really just expecting you to brush off his suggestive comments and stomp off back to your apartment, as girls like you would usually do. It was a cat and mouse sort of thing for them. They liked to dangle themselves in front of hot blooded men, looking all pretty and ready to be snatched up- just to run away at the last second and run them around like a dog.

Jungkook had been with a hefty number of women, so he liked to think he knew his way around them and their antics pretty well.

What he didn’t expect, though, was for you to take him up on his offer and enter into his apartment.

"How cute," you tease, picking up one of his halo action figures he had sitting on the counter.

He closes the door, his cheeks heating up slightly as he feels embarrassment.

"Don't do that." He takes the object from you, not missing the way you giggle cutely.

He shoves it in a drawer and points a finger at you in warning. "It is a very manly hobby, don't you dare say anything."

"Right...." You're feeling bold as you start to inch closer to him. His nerdiness intrigued you. You actually did think it was cute. Even cuter when it's a super attractive dream boat of a man who's into such hobbies.

Once you stop in front of him, you look up. His eyes twinkle with eagerness and it makes you smirk.

"You said something about warming me up earlier, if you remember." He lets out a groan at the sight of you looking up at him that way. He hated to admit that he has met his match, having not met such a woman who was eager to play his own game against him.

You reach towards him and grab at one of his hands, bringing it to the tie of your robe that held the fabric together. He loops a finger around the material and with a quick tug, he pulls your body closer to him. He's looking down at you over the slope of his nose, your intense gaze matching his own.

"I did say that." His voice comes out low, husky, so melodic to your ears.

The feeling of your chest against his has Jungkook taking a deep breath, trying his hardest not to break your eye contact.

With a flick of his wrist, he's managed to pull the knot loose to your robe. The two pieces of fabric fall open and reveal a sliver of your naked torso to the man.

He's quickly flicking the headset off of him and tossing it on the couch before he surges forward and scoops you up. The smallest yelp escapes you at the sudden action and you just wrap your legs around his waist on instinct. His hands immediately find their way underneath the curve of your ass cheeks and he grips the fat between his fingers.

"You feel so soft," he whispers into your neck, finding his way to his bedroom with no problem.

Once he gets to the foot of his bed, he carefully drops you in the center; watching the way your body slightly bounces on impact. Your robe has completely fallen open and your tits were fully out, so vulnerable to his eyes.

He doesn't bother to move for a few moments. Instead, he just sits down in his chair and leans back to admire your figure lying sprawled out on his sheets. His eyes dance around the expansion of your skin, down the curve of your hips, to the prettiest set of thighs he's ever seen.

From the position where he's sitting, he can see the faint dark spot in your panties. His pants were tight from the moment he opened his front door to you, but seeing that has them growing impossibly tighter. Which was hard, considering the fact he was wearing sweatpants.

"Are you wet?" His question has you suppressing a giggle. He clearly already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You sit up on your elbows and nod your head at him before you ask in the sweetest voice, "Wanna see?"

He sits up in his chair, leaning closer to your direction. You take his movement as an answer to your question and reach down to slide your panties down your legs.

You don't bother to rid yourself of them completely, allowing the fabric to lazily dangle from your ankle. You sit up on your elbows once again and let your legs fall open, revealing your most intimate parts to your hot neighbor.

He can feel his mouth start to salivate at the sight of your pussy displayed to his greedy eyes. The wetness you've produced has Jungkook's gaze slightly widening.

"You were this wet the whole time?" he asks, almost in disbelief.

You feel his fingers on you suddenly, causing you to gasp. He wastes no time in burying his middle finger in your pussy up to the knuckle. Your back is arching and a soft moan rolls off of your tongue.

Jungkook decides to get closer to you, his knees now pressing into the bed as he crawls over your body. He slides another finger inside of you and lowers his face right above yours. “What a dirty girl you are,” he whispers into your neck, his breath crawling across your skin so faint.

You’re whimpering at his words but mainly from the feeling of his fingers still moving inside of you. This wasn’t exactly what you pictured happening when you decided to come confront him for his loudness. You couldn’t really say you were complaining, though.

His face was just so pretty. The way his glasses sat low on his nose, his gaze intense as he sets his eyes on you. He made you squirm beneath him.

The trust of his fingers driving into your core doesn’t stop and it has your head stretched back to rest against the pillows. Your back arches and Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his other hand underneath you and across your back, holding you closer to his body.

Well, you suppose this was one way to make sure you were getting no sleep tonight. At least this way was a lot more worth it.

“Talk to me, baby.”

The sound of his voice pulls you out of your thoughts and your eyes land back on his. “There she is,” he teases, a smirk now resting on his ridiculously soft lips.

He increases the movement in his wrist, only driving his fingers deeper inside of you and the feeling has your eyes rolling back.

Your climax was climbing rapidly, the way your muscles twitch around Jungkook’s fingers making him fully aware.

“You gonna come, baby?” You frantically nod your head at his words, a few whines slipping past your lips. Before you’re granted your orgasm, Jungkook is pulling his fingers from you.

The second a whine attempts to bubble from your mouth, Jungkook leans over and plants his lips on yours. They’re just as soft as you imagined them to be and the taste he provides has you pushing your mouth deeper against his, kissing him back in desperation.

He shoves his head in the bend of your neck and reaches a hand down to spread your thigh wider; his other hand was busy with pulling the front of his sweatpants down. He chuckles at the sight of your cotton thong, that famous smirk plastered across his pretty face again.

“It’s almost like you knew you would be getting fucked, huh?” His tone is accusing, his face floating around in front of yours.

You just shrug teasingly, gently pulling your lip between your teeth. "As long as it's you, I won't complain.”

The feeling of Jungkook’s cock suddenly sliding in you has you gasping for breath. You try to keep yourself propped up on your elbows, the sight of his thick fingers holding the fabric of your panties to the side as he drills himself deeper in your body soon becoming too much.

His eyebrows are pinched together, his eyes completely focused on the vision of his dick disappearing inside of you. Your plump body was so warm and soft; he loved the way you felt under his fingertips.

Your mouth is slightly hung open, whimpers and moans escaping your throat like butter.

He admired the reaction he gained from your body, from the faces you made to the way your body twisted and turned in his grasp.

"Please, come closer to me." You're whining and reaching out to grab onto his meaty shoulders, pulling him closer against your body. He chuckles at your desperation; he found it quite cute.

"I'm right here, pretty." He whispers into your ear and increases the speed of his thrusts into your body. Your senses were on overload, he was driving you crazy; his scent, his touch, the smug look on his sexy face. You were a wrecked, soppy, dirty mess.

He leans back to sit on his knees and pulls you with him. He sits you in his lap, both hands on the fat of your hips, fucking into you like his life depends on it.

The force he used while thrusting into you had you gripping the man's shoulders, your loud moans in his ear only egging on his actions. His fingers made indents into your soft body; his grip so tight on you, you were scared of breaking. You would love to be broken by Jungkook, though. You would beg.

"Fuck, Jungkooo-" He performs a particularly hard thrust, momentarily cutting off your words and knocking the breath from you.

"What is it, baby?" He asks softly in your ear, his grip on you remaining as tight as a vice.

"You feel sooo, mmmmm so good." Your words come out in a mess due to your inability to really focus on putting them together in a sentence. He smirks as he watches you struggle.

You look down at him, watching the way his hair dangles in front of his eyes, his lip caught between his pink lips. His eyes were dangerous, looking at you with such hunger and intensity. The visual of him was enough to have you crying out, his name sticking to your lips.

"You're gonna make me come," You whisper into his neck, a whimper following close behind.

He reaches out to you and grips you by the throat, pulling you away from his body.

"Stop hiding from me," he grunts, his pace increasing to a brutal pace, "I wanna see your pretty face when you come on my cock."

His dirty words have you shaking like a leaf, your orgasm finally washing over you.

"Fuck, you're gripping me so tight." He groans and tightens his fingers around your throat, the pace of his thrusting not letting up.

Jesus, he's got some stamina.

He's wearing a cocky smile on his face as he watched the way your mouth hangs open, those cute little whimpers escaping your body.

The next expression to take over his beautiful features is one of bliss. His eyebrows push together and his mouth opens slightly, his eyes drifting down to the way his cock slides inside of you. "It looks so fucking good," he whines and pulls you closer to him by the back of your neck.

He pushes his forehead against yours and holds you there as you listen to the pretty moans release from the man. You bite your lip to contain your own sounds just so you could keep listening to him.

Followed by his moans is a warm feeling that suddenly washes over your lower half.

"I'm coming, baby." He's now holding your jaw with both hands, his thrusts growing harder so he can ride out his release. "Such a pretty little pussy to take my big load, hm?"

His words manage to have you moaning again, mixed between the feeling of his increase of speed; the feeling of his hips violently knocking into yours. You're coming...again.

The sounds roll off your tongue and Jungkook leans in to peck your lips. "What a good girl," he whispers, "coming for me twice. You're so good."

Once you've both come down from your sex high, Jungkook climbs off of you.

You hear the shower turn on once he enters the bathroom, only emerging immediately after. His eyes land on you and he grins. "Come shower with meee."

The whine in his voice has you giggling, until he leans down to place a warm kiss on your neck. You let out a small gasp and Jungkook just takes the initiative to bend down and scoop you up.

A few moments later, Jungkook has you giggling as he childishly rubs soap all over your breasts. He seems to be having the time of his life too.

"Are you happy now?" You just stand there, allowing him to finger paint on your body with the foamy soap.

He chuckles at your question and nods. Then he's reaching out and grasping a nipple between his fingers, walking closer to you. "Who knew this would be what I get for being such a disturbing neighbor."

You squint your eyes at him for his teasing and swat his hands away from you. You just roll your eyes and step around him to get to the shower door. "It's not my fault your charms and incredibly good looks took advantage of me."

You're reaching for the shower door and you're immediately interrupted with Jungkook's strong arms wrapping around you. "Come on, pretty, don't be that way."

You sink into his embrace, his close proximity already getting you cockdrunk again.

"I promise to never keep you up past your bedtime again," he pulls you into his chest and leans down to place a kiss below your ear, "unless I have the opportunity to fuck that pretty pussy again."

His vulgar vocabulary had your cheeks heating up and you playfully swat him away again and quickly exit the shower, not missing the teasing chuckle he lets out over your shy reaction.

That night, you stayed at Jungkook's.

And the night after that.

He just loved to keep you awake.

quickest piece i've ever produced. enjoy, cuties <3

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #bts oneshot #bts smut #jungkook oneshot #jjk #jeon jungkook

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blacknpurplewarpster · 2 years ago

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Today is an utter shit show and he wants it to be over with.

#// the whole apartment mudslide shit show is tiring #I’m tired of people blaming the conplex for the slide it’s not. It started way above on private property #where are people supposed to live in this town when everyone out of state keeps hoarding every house in this small area #reprod the damn mountain is the first thing #several buildings including mine are being looked at because they all likely moved #we have to be out of our places and our cars can’t be there while they’re working #and people keep coming up to our complex for photos like it’s some giant disaster #please leave us residents alone as we go through this #it’s a mudslide it’s not a huge disaster but some are def going to be displaced for a while #I’m very exhausted dealing with this #but there’s more flash storms on the way so 🤦‍♀️#Some locals in the area need to fuck off with their words it’s not easy to get a home or rent one in this town #there’s only two complexes for apartments in the area so where else are we supposed to live? An hour away? Tahoe? Reno? The damn deserted #desert in the sand? Fuck y’all seriously #it’s the areas fault for 1. Not reprodding the hills and mountains 2. Selling property to people who build all the way up the mountain #who don’t take care of their land at all #3. Follow the rules set in place for not going to critical areas after bad winters and storms and stir up the loose dirt #I’m not sorry for the rant but this is ongoing since Saturdays event and will continue all week #Now I’m dealing with the after effects of this at work like give me a break these people need to stfu

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cheekios · 8 months ago

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I will be homeless in less than 1 hours

I have to stress that my apartment wants me gone. Why you might ask? Because I’m one of the few tenants in the entire apartment complex that pays $1300 for rent meanwhile everyone else pays $1800-$1900. They want me out to the extent they don’t accept any late fees from me, but accepts from other residents. I asked the apartment manager why, she couldn’t give me answer. It’s the norm to have until the 5th of the month to pay rent but not for me.

Goal: $775

CA: $HushEmu

PP: [email protected]

I have to stress I’m not lazy or useless. I had a job despite having multiple disabilities. I’m not asking for a cookie or a pat on the back but its not easy. One small inconvenience really can set you up to be on the streets. Especially if you’re not privileged to have a good paying job with benefits. Like INSURANCE. Or parents that give a crap about you.

In my case the catalyst for this was simply my glasses breaking that snowballed me to eviction. I am legally blind and I have to thank diabetes for that. I cannot see without my glasses so it would be quite literally deadly for me to be on the roads. Ultimately I lost my job from “job abandonment”

I am asking for community support to stay housed. While I make this unfortunate transition. All I have is this community. There are ways beyond financial support that can help me. $1-$2 makes a significant impact

You can:

• Post on my behalf on all your platforms

• Urge your moots with large followings to reblog/retweet my posts

• You can interact fully with my posts to add traction

With the state of the world as it is right now. We need less apathy and more empathy. Please don’t ignore.

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odoraful · 6 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋, 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓?

content: sylus x gn!reader; reader is a resident of the N109 zone; meeting each other for the first time; suave and lowkey yandere vibes from sylus; 1.5k words

a/n: i know that the moon in N109 is depicted as being red in-game, but i changed it so that that is only a myth :)

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“Here to watch the moon again?”

A voice called from behind you, somewhat cavalier.

Your posture stiffened, skin prickling with goosebumps. Inwardly you cursed at yourself. How had you not sensed someone approaching? Your instincts couldn’t be that dull. You regained your composure, trying your hardest to compress your surprise. Finding out that one had been caught off guard was a fast way to reveal a weakness in the N109 zone.

You sat on the ledge of a tall skyscraper, feet dangling below. The scenery before you was a complex matrix of buildings compacted together. Telephone poles and wires weaved between tight spaces, lights flickering below. Whether these lines actually functioned well enough to contact others you were doubtful about. Though, it hardly mattered. If you were in need of help in N109, there was usually only one option—fend for yourself. Quickly assessing your situation, you concluded that this person was not here to harm you. If he wanted to, he could have easily pushed you off the side of the building, or struck you in the back before you could even detect his presence.

“Again?” you repeated, steadying your tone. “You imply that you’ve seen me here before, and yet you’ve never bothered to approach me until now.”

You leaned back on your hands, the concrete cold beneath your fingers. All you had to do was put on enough air of confidence, and it would grant you the escape you needed.

“Who are you?”

Turning your head over your shoulder, you looked at your supposed stalker.

You’ve encountered many different people here in the N109 zone, but none as deadly-looking as the man standing merely metres from you. His hair was a cool grey, combed over to reveal his forehead. He dressed in all black, save for the silver accessory pinned between the collars of his dress shirt that glinted in the moonlight. Hypnotising red eyes pierced through you, his gaze crawling under your skin. He seemed to be made of up sharp angles and intimidating arrogance. Unexpectedly, he wore a smile on his face. You immediately quashed down the thought of how attractive he was, his lips curled upwards in amusement.

“Just another enjoyer of the night sky, much like yourself,” he answered.

Your heart traitorously thundered in your ears at the smoothness of his words. Your eyes never left him as he walked closer to you, the heels of his dress shoes clacking against concrete, until he stood near your side.

“This is a spot I also like to frequent, you see.”

This time, you couldn’t hide your shock as he bent down to sit on the ledge as well. Your mouth parted and eyes widened slightly. How could he act so unguarded? He glanced at your expression and laughed, a warmer sound that clashed greatly with his forbidding appearance.

“What is it? Are you so unused to company?” he asked. You couldn’t tell if the innocence in his voice was real or mocking. Was he… teasing you?

“N-not at all,” you replied, more rushed than you intended. Your confidence began to slip away. Everything this man said felt like he was testing you. “You’re welcome to sit wherever you please.”

He bowed his head, exaggerating graciousness. “Your kindness is appreciated.”

The silence that followed was oppressive. You could hardly enjoy the night with a stranger (who hadn’t even given his name to you) sitting beside you. Perhaps this was some bizarre tactic to force information out of you. You would become so uncomfortable with the silence that you would spill every secret you had to him. However, as you snuck glances at him, you found his attention drawn only toward the sky. The light of the moon reflected off his irises, transforming them into a bright crimson. You tried to think of a conversation topic. Anything for you to know more about this strange man.

His question came before yours.

“Why do you come here?” he asked, eyes landing on you once more. “This is one of the tallest buildings in this zone, and the rooftop isn’t accessible from inside.” He lifted a hand to his chin, suddenly in thought. “You would need to climb up to the 40th floor, then scale across to the left hand side of the building towards the abandoned scaffolding. From there, you would be able to reach the broken ladder to get to the roof.”

You bristled uneasily. Surely it was coincidence that he recited your exact route to get here. He must have used the same path as well.

“It’s undoubtedly a dangerous climb, that only a skilled person could pull off. There are much more… safer viewing spots in this place.”

You paused, trying to discern anything in him about his true intentions. Besides for genuine interest in the slight tilt of his head, you could glean no other ulterior motives in this line of questioning. Maybe he really was just another person in the N109 zone trying to survive.

“Perhaps there are.” You replied, looking down at the streets below. After visiting this rooftop every night, you no longer felt any vertigo. “It’s funny. Those people in Linkon always craft such sordid tales about what the sky is like here.”

The words flowed out of you like a stream. You had thought about this a lot in your time here, relaying your musings to the moon.

“That it’s clouded with smog, unbreathable to even traverse outside. Or that it’s always raining, droplets acidic to the skin.”

If you had glanced next to you for even a moment, you would have seen just how captivated the man was by you and your words. As if he had found the most dazzling gemstone buried deep within the ground after hours of digging. But, you continued to study your feet swaying lazily back and forth as you continued,

“But, that’s all nonsense. They’ve never been here before, where the sky is absolutely spotless,” you said, wistfully.

And it was true. Your turned your head up, scanning the moon above. It was simply a regular moon, just like one you’d see in Linkon city. However, being so high up meant there was no obstruction from any other buildings. You could behold its fullness every night, savouring its white glow. It reminded you that there was so much more waiting in the universe for you. Maybe even unexplored places past the Deepspace Tunnel.

You expected some witty reply laced with mystery from your seatmate, but he remained silent. Curiously, you looked over, finding his eyes locked on you.

“Yes, those are simply stories to monger fear.” He sounded almost breathless as he replied.

You blinked at him. Evidently, you had said something that resonated with him. He cleared his throat, shaking off whatever spell had just gripped him.

“And I agree,” he continued, “I believe one can get the most clearest and loveliest views here at night time.”

You noted to yourself that he was certainly not looking at the sky as he said that. His gaze briefly trailed up and down your body. You drew in a breath, praying that your cheeks weren’t flushed as crimson as his eyes. Heat crawled up your face at the smirk on his lips. The man seemed content to reveal that ulterior motive to you quite freely.

Something fluttered towards the two of you, and a crow flew down to the man’s shoulder, cawing loudly. You jumped at the peculiar sight. The man clenched his jaw, seeming to be genuinely irritated by the interruption, but not at all bewildered by the large bird at his shoulder. It turned its head and cocked it to the side, seeming to analyse you.

“Unfortunately, my time here is up,” he sighed, pulling his feet off from the ledge and standing again.

To your surprise, your spirits deflated. There were so many things you wanted to know about this silver-haired man, and you didn’t know when you would meet him next.

“I will see you tomorrow night to continue this conversation,” he added, adjusting the coat around his shoulder.

You cursed internally again. Had it been so plain on your face that you wanted to meet him again? You pursed your lips.

“And what makes you so sure I’ll come back here tomorrow?”

Another laugh erupted from him. He had to restrain himself from commenting on how cute you looked right now.

“Because I’m quite good at reading people,” he instead said.

It was truly a shame he had to leave so soon. This interaction he had carefully crafted had begun so well. The crow cawed again, directly into his ear. Quiet down, I know I have business to attend to, he thought, scratching his finger against its feathered head to pacify the bird.

“Ah I almost forgot.”

You craned your head upwards at him standing beside you. Your expectant, doe eyes nearly convinced him to ignore all his duties and sit back down with you.

He tipped his head down. Greeting you once again, this time with an appropriate introduction.

“You can call me Sylus.”

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#i'm excited to see what sylus' personality is like in-game 😈#odorawrites #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus #sylus l&ds #sylus lads #sylus lnd #zayne love and deepspace

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flemingology · 25 days ago

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L is for the way you look at me ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 1 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you meet Alexia through your work, but things take an unexpected turn

warnings: nothing i can think of, but there must be something with this being 9k words. so let me know if there's anything worth mentioning lol. fluffy though!

wc: 8.8k

an: put my whole writerussy in this series. it'll come out on a weekly basis, every sunday for the next 4 weeks. will run simultaneously with the rest of my christmas series! i hope you enjoy <3

Your tires kicked up some gravel as your car came to a halt on the parking spot next to the sports complex. You leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a deep sigh, letting the silence overcome you for a second. You bathed in the comfort of your own car and tried to come to your senses, before what would be one of the biggest moments in your professional career as an interior architect so far. Scratch that. Biggest moment, for sure. Nothing had ever been bigger or more important than this.

It was early January when you initially got the call from your boss. You were at home, working on some 3D blueprints for a new apartment complex that was being built in the city centre. Not your most exciting project, but that’s the price you paid for working in a metropolis like Barcelona. Deadlines coming thick and fast, it meant that you were severely overworked, but clients weren’t waiting. Residents weren’t waiting, either. So you worked. You worked early, worked late, worked at home, worked in the office. You’d always been career-oriented, though, so you were never going to complain, not with the opportunities your perseverance had given you already. But you wouldn’t have dared to dream about this next one, even in your wildest dreams.

Your phone shook you up from your thoughts, head deep in a few finishing touches on an elevator blueprint when your ringtone sounded through your apartment. You rolled and stretched your neck in a futile attempt to release some of the tension there, before picking up the device and bringing it to your ear.

“Y/n, I’m gonna get right down to business. I’ve got an opportunity for you that you’re not going to want to turn down.”

A combination of words you’d normally be very excited about, but with the amount of work you already had on your plate, you weren’t quite sure about that. Endless to-do lists were scattered around your apartment and you were already struggling to meet all the deadlines set, so taking something else up would definitely set you back for a good couple months on multiple projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath before you replied, solely a hum.

“Look, I know you’re busy. You have a whole load on your plate right now, but if you take this, I’ll take care of the rest. We will redistribute the work. But this is once in a lifetime. And I want my best employee on it.”

You were taken aback by his words, your boss never one to willingly move work around from employee to employee once a project had been started. Your interest was piqued, so you decided to bite.

“Alright, you got me. Shoot.”

“We’ve been asked to design a new training complex for the Barcelona Women’s team.”

The best part of 8 months later, here you finally were. Sat outside the complex, in your car, taking a couple more moments before throwing yourself in the deep end. You had worked relentlessly on this project. If you thought you were working hard before, you’d found a new gear that left all your previous years in your professional career in the dust. You were the only designer on the project, meaning that a lot of the work fell on your shoulders and yours only in the initial phases of the process.

You were fatigued, from a lack of sleep as much as physically. You couldn’t remember how many all-nighters you pulled in trying to get the design over the line by the deadline. You experienced heightened anxiety and stress over the course of multiple months, only adding to the already overbearingly heavy weight on your shoulders. You got obsessive with it, as you always did, danced on the brink of a burn-out at some points, but you promised yourself it would pay off. Nothing would ever come close to the feeling of professional success. And you hoped, for the love of God, that you could deliver tonight. That everyone was happy with the complex, that your tour would go seamlessly, and that you had another thing to tick off in your long bucket-list of working as an interior architect. You took a couple more composing breaths in the driver seat of your car, checking your appearance a final time and attempted yourself at a pep-talk before you opened the door of your car and stepped out into the heat of the Spanish capital.

You’d seen it before, given the tour to your imaginary guests more often than you could count, but now, in Barcelona’s glistening afternoon sun, it really came into its own. The complex stands tall, but it exudes a sense of openness. It’s large, commanding, but not intimidating. Towering windows scratch across its surface, a feature that you’d grown to love across your visits to the facility. It allows plenty of natural light to pour in, the building strategically positioned so it would catch most of the afternoon sun. The entrance is wide, inviting, but nothing short of impressive. A set of smooth, glass doors that reach high, transparent so they give you a view of the lobby. The first feeling that comes over you is relief. You had seen the structure plenty of times, but with the prospect of having to guide the clients around later, it’s reassuring that you still feel excited and accomplished about your work. You approach the building, deciding to wait for the rest of your clients by the entrance.

You didn’t have to wait long, two black Cupras soon arriving at the facility after you made your way over. You weren’t fully aware how many people of the club were going to be present, but you’d tried to prepare yourself. Nine people though, that was kind of cutting it. Five people exited the first vehicle, another four quickly following short out of the other. Nine. If you weren’t nervous before, you surely were then.

The introductions went by in a flurry, but you tried your absolute best to remember the name and functions of every suited or dressed man or woman that had just shook your hand. Joan, president of the club. Pere, head coach. Marc, financial director. Lucia, facilities manager. There was one amongst them, though, that didn’t need an introduction. Not to you. Not to anyone. And really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you that they brought a player. If anyone has to approve of the facilities, it’s the players themselves.

“Alexia. Nice to meet you.” “Y/n. Likewise.”

She gave you a firm handshake, her eyes holding yours just a second too long, and you swear, you could feel it—that spark, that something. But before you could question it, she’d already let go of your hand and joined the rest of her people. You were well aware who she was, well aware of what she meant in the world of football, but you weren’t taken aback. It was nothing more than a crossover between two people doing their jobs, and you weren’t gonna have someone like her intimidate you and throw you off your path for the rest of the afternoon. Not with the importance of this project for the future of your career.

You clapped your hands when everyone seemed to have taken their first looks at the building from the inside. “Okay! Shall we?” You mustered up the brightest smile you had in your locker, silently wishing that the nerves would settle down as soon as you got into your element inside.

��Okay, so, the main entrance. I didn’t want to have too much going on in here, more going for a calm atmosphere. Reception in the middle, and then there’s really only one hall here, leading you towards the rest of the facility.”

The entrance was, as you described, calm. It had some lounge seats here and there but you couldn’t imagine many people spending lots of time here, so you kept the extras limited. A few acknowledging and appreciating hums from your tiny crowd sent you on your way, your nerves slowly but surely ebbing away.

You slowly guided your guests towards the hallway, letting them take in the interior and space for as long as they wanted until they seemed ready to continue the tour. “On the left, first and foremost, the changing room. I thought it was handy for it to be near the entrance, as most of the players probably come straight here after arriving.”

You push open the double doors to the room, stepping aside and allowing the others to step in first. “As you can see, a large and accordingly illuminated space with rows of lockers, personalized for each player. Each locker has a charging station, storage for gear, and adjustable lighting, because who doesn’t hate bad lighting when trying to focus before a game?”

For the first time during the tour, someone spoke up then, and it wasn’t who you’d expect to take the floor first. “I’ll admit, I’m guilty of using mine as a mini closet sometimes. Good call with the extra storage.” Alexia’s admission caused some lighthearted laughs and chatter to rise from the small group of people, and you almost felt grateful for her comment. “I’m glad.” You mustered up a small but sincere smile, before turning back around and continuing your work.

You gestured towards the wall that wasn’t adorned with lockers. “The screens on here are meant for displaying tactics, team news, and whatever else you guys get up to on a day-to-day basis.” You were really coming into yourself and started to forget about the nerves of the moment. You were in your element, you were doing what you liked, what you had been doing for the past 7 years of your life. You weren’t gonna mess this up.

“Of course, showers are tucked around the corner. Communal shower room, as I’m sure you’re all familiar with. Physio beds, and everything else you would need for pre-activation before training are around the other corner. To integrate some options for relaxation, there are also some sofas in that room. I don’t know to which extent they will be used, but they’re there.”

Right as you were about to lead the group back out towards the next room, Pere spoke up. “I like the adjustable lighting. I think it’s something we struggled with at our previous facility. It was quite bright, and sometimes that’s not the vibe you want to create for your players. They need calm, especially after a training session. Good work on that one.” The man offered you a sincere smile and rested his hand on your shoulder for a split second, and you felt all warm inside at the acknowledgement of your work. You took it in your stride and continued the tour.

“Taking a left outside the locker room and moving down the hallway, it’ll take you into the tactical room. Meeting room, briefing room, whatever you want to call it. This room is more dimly lit, with one singular big screen on the wall for video analysis, powerpoint presentations, and so on. I think there’s about 30 seats, but I wasn’t quite sure on how many there would need to be, so if you need any more I can take care of those too.”

Pere and Alexia shared a look, before letting you know that 30 would be enough. “Now, moving on through the room, I designed a second section with more of a discussion place in mind. I opted for a round table, rather than a rectangular shape, because I feel like it invites more participation. A couple whiteboards here and there, but I’m sure you guys will find your own ways to use this room to your own liking.”

“There’s one thing, though, and I’m quite proud of that, if I may say so myself. One of these walls,” you started, tapping your finger on the back wall of the discussion room, “is a writable wall. You can write, pin notes, whatever you might need to brainstorm about your tactics.”

Pere’s voice sounded through the room as you finished your explanation. “So, Ale, no more scribbling on napkins during tactical meetings, huh?” You finally realized why one of your colleagues on the project was adamant about a certain type of soundproof walls for the room, because you were now grateful for the great acoustics as Alexia’s laugh sounded through the place. Suddenly, you noticed that one of the chairs around the table was slightly out of place. Your need for perfectionism rose up and as much as you wanted to leave it, to not fuss about a small detail like that, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, this chair is bothering me. Details matter, especially in places like these. Athletes notice more than they think they do.” You didn’t direct your statement towards anyone, but weren’t exactly surprised either when you heard Alexia’s voice in response. “We do? I just thought we used these rooms to throw our stuff around,” the Spaniard said with an amused, infuriatingly attractive smirk on her face. It was your turn to laugh now, and you weren’t the only one grateful anymore for the acoustics of the room.

You answered a couple questions and scribbled down a couple more suggestions from the rest of the staff, before making your way out of the discussion room and moving back towards the hallway. “Now, crossing the hallway, this is the treatment room.” There’s a calm atmosphere in the room, the soft hum of the lights the only sound as your clients take in their surroundings. “Plenty of massage tables in the middle of the room, some more space for pre-activation, shelves stretched across the walls with recovery tools. Around the corner, there’s a multifunctional hydrotherapy pool and an ice bath. These adjustable lights mimic natural daylight to help with recovery. I wanted to create a space where your body and mind can unwind together.”

“I imagine you will spend lots of your time here,” you smiled, gesturing towards one of the women that presented herself as one of the club’s physiotherapists.

“Yeah, this will be my safe haven. It’s great, honestly, better than I ever imagined. I was thinking whether there was something missing, but I can’t think of anything. You did great work.” You shot the woman, whose name you’d already forgotten, a bright smile and thanked her for the compliment. The moment was soon lost on you as you heard someone clear their throat.

“Yes, Alexia?” It was the first time you’d called the Barcelona captain by her first name that afternoon, and you were surprised at the ease it rolled off your tongue with. If Alexia was taken aback, she didn’t show it. “I’m gonna be annoying for a second. Wouldn’t it be tough for someone injured to reach that?” She pointed at the top shelves, where some of the recovery tools were stacked. You took a moment to yourself to think about her comment, before giving her a slight smile and nodding. “You’re right, thank you for noticing that.” You took out your notepad and scribbled something down, adding an exclamation mark or 5 to convey the importance of the task. The rest of the group had already moved back to the hallway, leaving you and Alexia to yourself for a little moment. You didn’t know where the flurry of confidence came from, but you grabbed it with both hands before it could slip away, leading to your next comment. “Good catch, captain.” Alexia grinned, a twinkle in her eyes as she met yours.

“You’re the expert, not me.” “Well, you’re the professional footballer amongst the two of us, so I think I could learn a thing or two still about the design of team facilities.” “You’re doing more than a good job so far. I’m positively surprised.”

You got pulled back to reality when you heard a laugh coming through the door from the hallway, reminding you of the fact that you were still working, still having to uphold a professional persona and make sure that the tour went well. This wasn’t the time and place to be making much small talk, let alone flirting. Could you even call it that? “Let’s move on, yeah?”

You lead your clients down the hall, opening the double doors that would lead to the gym. The space was just as you’d imagined it, and hearing the noises of appreciation from the people behind you, you knew you’d done a good job.

“I think this speaks for itself, really. Not entirely my area of expertise, not really one for dumbbells or barbells, but I think I got everything covered here,” you chuckled. “Resistance machines, cardio equipment, dumbbells, barbells and kettlebells. There’s also an area for stretching and functional training near the back of the room. I wanted this to be big, spacious, allowing lots of natural light in, because I know half of the training days are spent here. People tend to forget that.”

“Dios mio, Pere, if I’m ever missing, just come find me in here. This place is a dream come true,” you heard Alexia say from across the room, letting her eyes rake over the abundance of equipment that was scattered all around the gym. You crossed the room and joined her, following her movements with your eyes as she explored more of the gym. “I think this wall here needs some more Barca colors, no?” You scoffed and shook your head slightly, but pulled out your notepad nonetheless. “Noted, but I think you’re biased. Lucky for you, I like your bias.” Alexia tilted her head at that. “Does that mean I get to say in the rest of the design too?” You knew what she was doing. And it was so wrong for you to be giving into it in this professional context, but the woman across from you was enticing and you couldn’t help but be flattered at the way she seemed to be flirting with you. “Now, don’t push your luck, Putellas.” With that, you turned on your heels and made your way back towards the front of the room, not wanting to give Alexia the satisfaction of seeing the crimson red color your cheeks had turned at the small interaction.

“Well, I think we’ve got one final room, then.” You lead your guests back through the doors of the gym. “Taking a right here, you’ll end up in the team lounge. A cozy space for bonding, relaxing, whatever you guys want to do here. There’s a coffee station, entertainment options like games and a big screen, beanbags scattered around the room, but you can fill it in the way you want, really. There’s lots of flexibility with this space.”

“A coffee station? That’s going to make you a lot of friends around here,” the ever-familiar voice behind you commented. “Honestly, the caffeine might be the most important design element in this building.”

You pointed at the seating arrangement. “I went for modular sofas so you can switch between team bonding sessions and personal space. As I said, I went for flexibility here.” Pere caught up to where you were walking and put his hand on your shoulder, just as he did earlier during the tour. “You thought of all the details, huh? Most people wouldn’t notice things like that.” You shrugged off the compliment. “It’s all in the details, I bet you know that just as well as I do.” The coach let out a warm laugh and you couldn’t help but feel accomplished, it meant the world to you that him and one of the most important players in his team felt right within the facility and were impressed with your designs.

“As for different rooms, that was it for the tour. The pitches are outside, but there’s nothing special about those. Feel free to check them out if you want. I’m gonna let you all wander around a bit now, and if you have any questions or remarks, please come to me. I’m all ears and I’m very open to feedback. I hope you’re all satisfied, though, because this project meant a lot to me and I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to have received this opportunity.”

What happened next, was the last thing you’d expected. The room went silent for a second, until you could hear a couple slow claps sounding through the room. They came from Alexia, who was ushering the other people in the room to give you an applause. Her colleagues followed shortly, and soon the room was filled with the sound of their clapping, all smiling brightly at you and sharing laughs with one another. You felt grateful, overwhelmed by your emotions, but you felt a huge weight fall off your shoulders at the acknowledgement.

It wasn’t until a couple minutes later, that Alexia found herself next to you again. Most of the people had wandered back through the corridors, checking out the rooms at their own pace. “So, how long did it take you to design this?” Alexia fell in step with you as you walked through the gym, mustering up ideas for the remark the Spaniard gave you earlier. “Uh, about 4 months for the main sections, and then a few extra weeks for the final touches. And then, a waiting game while it was being built. It’s a bit of a balancing act, you know?” Alexia smiled faintly at you before responding. “I imagine. It sounds like a lot, but it seems like you’ve got everything under control.” “I try to.”

It was about half an hour later, when you all found yourself back at the entrance. You received another couple compliments from several staff members that had come along, and it felt like every single one bolstered your outside a bit more and more, upping your confidence with each one, taking them all in your stride. You’d been nervous for this, had worked countless hours, days, weeks on this project, but it all felt worth it. It was the biggest project you’d ever worked on, but it turned out perfectly and you couldn’t have wished for a better outcome.

The sun had started to set over Barcelona now, golden hour casting the building in rays of orange. It felt symbolic, a perfect ending to what had been a greatly successful afternoon. Alexia had noticed your passion for your work throughout the tour, and it was safe to say that she admired it. “You care a lot about getting things right, don’t you?” “Of course. It’s important.” “It feels right… you being here. You doing this. I feel like you understand this place.”

Alexia’s words came right from the heart, her voice growing soft as she uttered the final couple words, and you felt a fuzzy feeling coursing through your body at the admission. You raised your eyes at her, curious where the sudden comment had come from. Alexia picked up on this, explaining herself further.

“Your dedication to your work, it just resonates with my dedication to mine. The team’s dedication. It feels good, this.” You weren’t sure what she was talking about anymore, whether that be the building, your commitment, or just this–– the situation you two found yourself in at the moment. You’d tried to keep up your professional demeanor throughout the tour, but the more heartfelt comments Alexia threw your way, the harder you found it to keep up the snarky remarks or shrugging off whatever she said.

“I don’t know the word… it’s like when you do something that makes sense, like…” “Purpose?” “Yeah, purpose.”

Alexia grew bashful quickly, a shy smile covering her face. “Sorry, my English isn’t quite there yet.” You waved away her apology and were grateful for the change of tone in the conversation, not quite sure you would be able to keep up your persona had she gotten much more open with you.

“Look, I have to go now. I can sense Pero is growing impatient in the car. But, look, uhm, I like how you understand this place. Would you maybe,” she clears her throat and looks down to the ground before finishing her sentence, “want to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

You should’ve expected it, really. The way she was throwing not-so-subtle flirty remarks at you throughout the tour, her demeanor growing in confidence the longer time went on, you should’ve known this was coming. Still, it swept you completely off your feet, and quite frankly, speechless. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that thought of denying her request. But somewhere, in the back of your mind, a little rational voice sounded, saying that you had to be professional. This was your work, her work, and mixing work and dates was never a good idea. So you took a deep breath, meeting her eyes again before you gave her the answer she probably wouldn’t have expected.

“Alexia, I’d love to. But, this is a professional work context.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you, a small smile hinting on one corner of her mouth, and you couldn’t help the confusion that came across you. “Guapa, you are the one assuming that we are going on a date. I proposed it just to, you know, discuss insights about the building.” Your cheeks burned bright red at her words, and there was no way to escape the situation now. The taller woman in front of you let out a laugh, throwing her head back and if it weren’t for the twinkle of adoration in her eyes when her gaze met yours again, you would’ve thought she was laughing at you. “No, I get you. But look, I’ll make it worth your while. Just give me one chance, okay? You can’t deny the… how do you say, chemistry?” You nodded bashfully at the Spaniard, knowing she was completely right. You had tried your hardest to remain professional, but it grew harder and harder not to open up more of yourself to the footballer. “Look, if you don’t want a coffee, how about you come to the game tomorrow? You’ve done so much for us, you should come see what you’ve worked for these past couple months. My family can’t make it this week, so I’ve got plenty of tickets for you and anyone else you want to bring.”

That sounded like a better suggestion, all in all. If anything, you could now paint it down as just a friendly invitation to thank you for your work, and you didn’t have to think of it as a date. Although, even with what you said, you weren’t opposed to that idea either. “That sounds fair. You owe me a good performance, though” you quipped back, not letting her off the hook that easily. She had made you blush, but you weren’t gonna let her walk over you like that. “Only if you come to dinner after.” And just like that, she’d turned the whole situation around again. Infuriating. Infuriatingly attractive. “We’ll see.”

You struggle on deciding what to wear that day. Torn between trying to look put-together and not wanting to look like you’re trying too hard, you eventually settle on something practical but nice– enough to look professional, but not too casual. Because in the end, it’s just a game, right? Just Alexia Putellas casually inviting you to see her in her element, no big deal. And dinner. Maybe.

The journey to the stadium went smoother than expected. You’d left more than early enough, and had just about beat the flurry of afternoon traffic, as you arrived at Estadi Johan Cruyff. This is as far as outsides of comfort zones went. This was not your usual surroundings. You were a homebody, either working or relaxing, you weren’t one for the big events. Let alone sporting events. You weren’t at home in this setting, but you couldn’t help but feel an excitement bubbling up inside you as you noticed the heaps of fans dressed in blaugrana jerseys, waving flags and scarves, all coming to see their idols on a sunbathed afternoon in the Spanish capital. Nerves bubble up the closer you get to the stadium, and you tried to ground yourself by taking a couple deep breaths before taking the plunge.

You’d remembered the instructions Alexia sent you over text on how to get to her friends and family box. She asked for your number at some point that day before, and brushed it off as practicality for today’s game, but you knew somewhere that that wasn’t the last time you’d hear of her. The moment you arrive in her box overwhelms you. There’s a couple other people, and you get a sudden burst of nerves thinking about having to introduce you as… well, as what? The interior architect of her new team facilities? You were well aware of how weird that sounded. But they paid you no mind, so you thanked your lucky stars when you found your seat without all too much fuss and settled down for the next couple hours.

The crowd, the noise, there was a buzzing atmosphere around the stadium and it was such a stark contrast to the environment you’d been in yesterday. The stadium felt alive. As much as you weren’t a football or sports fan in general, you finally understood why people liked going to games. You took in your environment, scanning the crowd. A man singing at the top of his lungs, seemingly the person that needed to get the chants going. A little girl in a jersey three sizes too big, on her father’s shoulders, holding a sign that said: “Alexia, mi heroina”. A group of teenagers finding their seats right underneath the box, faces painted with stripes, yelling things you didn’t quite understand, because God forbid you were consistent with your Spanish classes. A mixed smell of popcorn, churros and questionable hotdogs suddenly hit you like a wall. It was chaos, but it seemed like the people here thrived on it. Suddenly, you couldn’t believe having missed out on this element of the city for so long. Of course, you were well aware that Barcelona had two successful, thriving first teams. You just couldn’t be bothered. Now, though, it felt like your whole world had turned upside down at the revelation of how fun this was.

As much as Alexia insisted on you bringing someone, for your own company, you didn’t. It felt too much like using her, not wanting to overstep boundaries on this first meeting. Second, in theory. But now, as you were sat here in the stadium, crowd so loud their hum vibrated in your chest, maybe you wouldn’t have minded someone else here to share the experience with. Then again, bringing someone would’ve made this feel more like a… thing. And you didn’t know whether you were ready to accept this being a thing, yet. Your thoughts circled back to Alexia, the woman you were here for in the first place. Would she be nervous now? Of course not. She was in the locker room right now, already zoned in and focused. Professional. Unlike you, who was sitting here, overthinking what a stupid invitation to a game might mean. Still, there was something about being here– her stadium, her world, that made you feel closer to her. Like it was a glimpse into the pieces of herself she didn’t give away so easily. They were all here for her, but you were invited by her. It felt different.

What you didn’t expect, at all, was your phone to chime with a message from her.

From: Alexia You here yet?

You quickly typed back a response, figuring she didn’t have much time to be on her phone. They were due for warm-ups anytime soon now.

To: Alexia: Yeah, just found my seat. Thank you :) It’s chaos out here, damn

From: Alexia Good chaos. You’ll see. Enjoy it, I’ll find you after

It’s as if Alexia’s words had a soothing effect on you, because as soon as you tucked your phone back away you relaxed, sitting back against your seat and letting the experience roll over you.

The Barca girls came out for warm-ups, and you couldn’t help but admire them. The players moved across the pitch with this kind of effortless precision that made it all look simple, though you knew it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell who was who at first, not even you lack of football knowledge, but there were so many of them, a blur of navy shorts and bright orange bibs weaving in and out of each other as the ball zipped between them.

You weren’t looking for her. At least, you told yourself you weren’t. But somehow, your eyes kept finding her anyway. You caught a flash of blonde hair and noticed the distinctive way she carried herself on the pitch. She wasn’t doing anything else than the others– passing, moving, stretching. But she stood out. There was something about her, even from a distance, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was like your eyes gravitated towards her naturally, without you guiding them.

The Alexia you’d walked the tour with, who’d thrown you teasing smiles and leaned a little too close when you said goodbye, was gone. Out here, she was something entirely different– serious, focused, untouchable. She hadn’t looked up once, her eyes not searching yours, and you would feel apprehensive about it if you didn’t remember the look she had in her eyes when she invited you. After all, why would she? She had a job to do. This was her thing, as much as yesterday was yours.

You weren’t the only one watching her, obviously. You could hear little bursts of her name from the fans sitting nearby, the occasional shriek of excitement when she touched the ball during a drill. She was theirs and they were hers in a way I couldn’t quite wrap my head around, but it was beautiful. Alexia is Barca and Barca is Alexia, right?

It wasn’t long then until the game started, you got lost in your own thoughts a little bit and you were now mere seconds away from kick-off. The pitch looked impossibly green under the floodlights– that were turned on way too early, but you guessed it was better to be safe than sorry. Players were scattered around it, waiting for the signal from the referee that they could get their game going. The energy of the crowd built like a wave, rolling through the stands. People were on their feet, clapping, yelling. You didn’t know the chants, but you felt a tingle inside of you urging you to clap along, the energy of the crowd too enticing not to.

As the whistle blew to signal kick-off, the energy in the stadium shifted. You didn’t expect it to hit you like that, the way the crowd seemed to breathe, shift, move as one organism. It was overwhelming in the best way. You weren’t here to watch anyone in particular, you told yourself. You were just going to enjoy the experience, the place, to see it all in action. But once again, as soon as the ball was in play, you found yourself watching her. Tracking the way she moved, the way she gracefully handled the ball, the way she always seemed two steps ahead of everyone else.

Out here, she was undeniable. There was a precision to the way she played, a quiet authority that made it impossible to look away. It wasn’t just that she was good– and realistically, that played a huge part, it was the way she made everything look so effortless, like she’d orchestrated the entire game in her head before anyone else knew what was happening.

You were deep into the first half when the play stalled, and for the first time all game, the noise of the crowd dulled in your ears. Alexia was in the middle of the action, barking instructions to her teammates– sharp, no-nonsense commands you couldn’t hear from up there but you could feel all the same. Her gestures were deliberate, decisive, and when she pointed towards the flank, her teammates took off without hesitation.

There was something magnetic about it, about the way she owned the field without ever raising her voice too much, the way her team fell in line like clockwork because she was the one pulling the strings. Captain’s armband snug around her bicep, confidence looked good on her. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but it was undeniable.

Your eyes lingered on her a little longer than they should have, when play resumed. The way her jersey clung to her shoulders and arms wasn’t helping either. You shifted in your seat, tearing your gaze away, but the thought was already there, uninvited and impossible to ignore. You’d listen to whatever she told you to do too.

Heat rushed to your face at the realization so quickly it nearly made you feel dizzy. Nope. Absolutely not. You took a deep breath and focused back on the game, on the fluid football that was being portrayed by the girls in blaugrana. Professional. You are professional. And you are definitely not thinking about what it would be like to hear that voice closer. Louder. DIrected at you.

Saved by the bell. Or the half-time whistle. Saved by something, thank God. That’s what you thought. As the players made their way toward the tunnel, your eyes found her again. She was talking to one of her teammates, gesturing animatedly about something, but just before she disappeared into the tunnel, she glanced towards her box. It was quick, so quick you almost missed it, but your heart skipped a beat anyway. You told yourself she wasn’t looking for you. Why would she?

During half-time, a kid sitting a couple rows in front of you caught your eye. He was shouting all of the players names, his little voice full of excitement. He was waving a jersey, one with the number 4 on the back, and even though they couldn’t hear him right now, tucked away in the building, it struck you how loved they all were. How much they all meant to these people. You caught yourself smiling at the kid’s enthusiasm. At the player’s impact. It was hard not to feel drawn into it.

The second half went by quicker than the first. You’d settled, and you were starting to feel more like yourself the more time went on. Barcelona scored thrice in the second half, effectively beating their opponents 3-0. Alexia hadn’t scored, but she’d assisted the final goal and you felt a weird sense of pride overcome you as her cross was headed in by one of her teammates. The final whistle pierced the air, and with it came an eruption of cheers from the stands. Another win, another three points, and they deserved every ounce of the applause raining down on them.

Alexia didn’t jump into the celebration like some of her teammates did, instead staying composed as she clapped for the fans along with her friends, her captain’s demeanor shining through even in victory. For a second, she looked toward the family box, her gaze skimming across the seats. You thought to yourself that she might be looking for you, but as soon as it arose, you brushed it away, even though your stomach fluttered at the thought.

And then, like she’d heard your internal thoughts, answering the unspoken question, she lifted a hand in a small wave. Subtle, unnoticeable for anyone that wasn’t watching, but it was definitely there. You gave her a small wave back, and you wondered if anyone had noticed the small interaction between the two of you. This wasn’t the time to raise any suspicions, and even though no one’s eyes were on you, you felt like a spotlight had just been shone directly on you. You thought that was gonna be it, but then she stepped away from the group of her teammates for a second, and made a phonecall motion with her hands. You gave her a thumbs up in response, in hindsight probably not the most flattering thing, but it would do the job.

It wasn’t long after the team disappeared back into the tunnel that your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jacket.

From: Alexia I’m gonna get a quick shower, but I want to see you :) Meet me outside by the parking lot in 20 minutes?

A bashful smile grew on your face as you read her text, the casual tone doing little to mask the effect it had on you.

To: Alexia Yes, of course! Just gotta tell me how to get there

Alexia sent you on your way with a couple directions and off you went, not bothering to wait another 20 minutes in your seat, trying to avoid any possibility of you being late in the parking lot. The chill of the evening air hit you as you stepped outside of the stadium, as if inside there was a personal bubble of warmth created for the team. You crossed the main parking lot, that was surprisingly quiet. Most fans still lingering inside or making their way out through the main exits.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the meeting spot, a secluded parking are for the players. It was even quieter there, and every little sound seemed amplified in your ears.

Alexia took 17 minutes after sending you her post-match text. Not that you had been counting, or anything. She stepped out of the building, freshly showered and dressed in a Barca tracksuit. Her confident and vibrant energy from the pitch faltered slightly, but you still warmed up at the sight of her. Her hair still damp from her shower, duffle bag slung over her shoulder, walking over to you with an easy stride, as if she’d done this a thousand times before. She broke out in a wide smile as she approached you.

“Hey,” she started, her voice low and warm, “thanks for waiting.” You chuckled and waved away her comment, a little awkward silence forming between the two of you that you tried not to get in your head about, before making a remark about the game. “You played well. All of you, really. It was… impressive to watch. Thank you for the ticket.”

“Are you saying that because you mean it, or because I’m standing here?” Alexia teased. She hadn’t changed a single thing from her demeanor yesterday, still as flirty and making teasing remarks. “Maybe both.” Alexia let out a soft laugh, and even without soundproof walls and good acoustics, it still wrapped around you like a warm blanket in the chilly evening air.

She grew sincere then, her eyes softening a bit. “Hey, thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.” You were taken aback a little by her words, a little sense of insecurity creeping through her voice. “Honestly, for a long time I wasn’t sure either, but I’m glad I did. It just… didn’t know if I should.” The Barcelona captain frowned at that, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?” You knew the question was coming, so you shrugged and gave her your response with a small smile on your face.

“Maybe because this feels… I don’t know, different? You’re… you.” “I’m me?” “You’re Alexia Putellas. Everyone in that stadium was looking at you tonight. And now here I am, standing in a parking lot with you, wondering why you’d want to see me of all people.” “And yet, here you are. Doesn’t that say something?”

You locked eyes for a moment, a brief pause in the conversation and the air between you both changed with unspoken words. Alexia’s expression softens further, her confident demeanor giving way for something vulnerable, something you hadn’t seen about her yet.

“Maybe I don’t want to be Alexia Putellas all the time, you know? It gets quite tiring.” Alexia said quietly. You were caught off guard, but composed yourself quickly. “That’s not an easy thing to ask with your career, captain.” You chuckled quietly, but grew quiet as you noticed the sincerity in her voice. “Look, I know we barely know each other. But I think you’re the kind of person who could see me for who I am, not just the name, the number or the captain’s armband. I feel drawn to you, and that doesn’t happen often. And I know you feel it too. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

“That’s… a lot, Alexia.” You hesitated, meeting her eyes again. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me. You’re right, I feel it too. But I don’t know if I’m the kind of person you think I am. I mean… you’re you, and…” you trailed off, but you were sure she understood what you were trying to say.

“And you’re you. That’s exactly why I’m standing here right now. Why I invited you today. Why I asked you to come to the parking lot.” Her words helped you ease a little further, but not all the apprehension had worn off and she could tell. “Tell you what, let me prove it to you. Dinner? No pressure. Just food, conversation, and maybe some embarrassing stories about my teammates.” A hopeful smile grew on her face after her words and you couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped your lips as you listened to her. “You know how to sell an offer, don’t you?”

“I’ve got plenty. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” “Hmm, I don’t know. Feels like you’re trying too hard to convince me.” “Trying too hard? I thought I was being charming!” “Debatable.” “Come on, let me in tonight. That’s all I’m asking for.” “Fine. But only because I’m curious about these embarrassing stories.” “Fair enough.”

The restaurant is small but elegant, tucked away in a quieter part of the city. Twinkling string lights frame the windows, and a gold sign with cursive lettering displays the name. It was perfect, really, and you could see why Alexia liked coming here, especially after busy days like today.

The warm lighting inside created the perfect cozy atmosphere that would allow you both to unwind from the day. There were candles on every table, casting soft shadows on the walls, and there was a tinge of jazz to be heard in the background. It’s intimate but not overly formal, just right for a dinner that was toeing the line between casual and romantic.

“You’ve got good taste in restaurants,” you said, after hanging your jacket over your chair and sitting down. “Good food is one of the few indulgences I allow myself during the season. Though I have to be careful not to overdo it.” You smirked, deciding that you could tease her a little further. “You mean you don’t carb-load on patatas bravas before every match?” Alexia laughed at that, throwing her head back slightly. “I wish. I’d run for ten minutes and then need a sub.”

You indulge yourself in the menu for a second, eventually settling on and ordering a seafood risotto and a glass of white wine. Alexia ordered grilled chicken with roasted vegetables, paired with a glass of red.

You feel hyper-aware of every small detail about Alexia while you wait for your food. The way she leans forward when she speaks, the gestures she makes with her hands, the warmth in her eyes. You’re overwhelmed, in the best possible way.

“So, Putellas, do you always bring strangers here, or should I feel special?” You challenged, taking a sip from the glass of wine that was just brought to you by one of the waiters. Alexia feigned annoyance, placing a hand over her chest where her heart was. Nonetheless, her face turned into a grin soon.

“Special. But don’t let it get to your head. I needed to bribe you into liking me somehow.” “Oh, so this is a bribe?” “What can I say? I’m better with my feet than my words”

Dinner goes by smoothly, and your conversation flows easily from one topic to the other. You cover your family, Alexia’s way into football, what she’s thinking of doing after football, your hobbies, your youth, but it’s when the topic of your work is being brought up that you grow apprehensive. Alexia noticed the unease that came from you after she brought it up, and tried to reassure you.

“You know, I like hearing about your work. It’s part of who you are,” she tried. If there was one thing that you’d not gotten over yet, it’s that you met Alexia through a work context. Deep down, there were more than rational thoughts telling you that that was completely okay, it happened all the time, but with how focused you are on your image and your professional career, you had a hard time dropping the apprehension. So you paused for a second, and then spoke up softly. “But that’s the thing. I feel like I need to keep it separate. Like if I start talking too much about it, I’ll ruin this… whatever this is.” Alexia leant forward at that, like she had the tendency to do quite often you’d grown to learn. “And what do you think this is?” You met her eyes, trying to feign indifference by shrugging. “I don’t know. Something new, something unexpected.”

“Well, maybe unexpected is good. You don’t have to keep everything separate, you know. I like knowing more about you. All of you.” “Careful, I might start talking about zoning laws and blueprints.” “I’ll risk it. Besides, more fuel for me to tease you with.”

There’s a little more hesitance in your eyes, and Alexia wants to get rid of it. “Tonight, I’m not Alexia Putellas. I’m Alexia, Ale. That’s all I want to be now.” And really, how could you stay professional with someone who looked at you like that, as if they’re seeing something no one else ever had?

“I don’t usually do this either, you know? Going for dinner with someone I barely know.” Alexia speaks up after a while of comfortable silence. “Then why now?” You asked, not sure whether you really wanted to hear the answer, knowing it would only put your further into a pit of unfamiliar feelings that was growing deeper and deeper with each passing minute of sitting across the infatuating Spanish captain. “Because you feel different. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I feel like you see me. Not the player, just me.”

The night went on without too many hiccups from then on. It was only when the time came to pay, that some more teasing was thrown around. “You’ve got that look on your face. You’re going to pay, aren’t you.” You cocked an eyebrow at the women across you who was sporting a bright smile. “You caught me.” You sighed, rolling your eyes briefly. “At least let me cover dessert.”

“How about this; you get dessert next time.” “Next time? You’re confident.” “Maybe. But I’m not doubting anything.”

As you step out the restaurant, Alexia offers you her jacket when she notices you shivering in the chilly air of Barcelona. Your fingers brush as she helps you into it, and for a moment, they linger. “This was nice. I’m glad you said yes.” Her voice barely above a whisper, as if the intimacy of the evening had softened her voice. “Me too. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but… I had a really great time. Sorry for my apprehension.” “Don’t apologise. And good, because I’d like to do this again. Soon.”

For a moment, Alexia looked at you, her eyes lingering on yours like she was memorizing something important. And then she leaned in, so slowly that you could feel your heart pound in anticipation. Her lips brushed your cheek, featherlight and warm, lingering just enough to make your breath hitch. It wasn’t hurried, it was deliberate, full of quiet meaning.

Your skin tingled where she’d kissed you, and a rush of warmth spread from your chest all the way to your fingertips. It was a simple gesture, nothing more than a small brush of her lips against your cheek, but it left you feeling all kinds of ways. Ways that you weren’t prepared for, and your growing adoration for her hit you in the face once more.

When she pulled back, Alexia’s eyes searched yours for a reaction, her own cheeks tinged pink in the glow of the streetlight. Your voice felt caught in your throat, but your heart spoke louder. You knew then, without a doubt, that this was more than just a fleeting connection.

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #barca femení x reader #barca femení

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staryuee · 8 months ago

Text

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

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