#she's a great reader but she gets annoyed when we make her sound things out herself & a big chapter book is still a lot for her age/

[dontstandmedown]

pinky promises make my heart ache because when my cousin was around 3 years old she was scared of them somehow and it was clear she felt so Big about it like this was really something that weighed on her lil mind. but she's getting so big now & has such a big personality, and its just crazy how rn she's probably only gonna remember a handful of the memories I have of her because she's still little. but she's halfway to being a teenager now, who let that happen. i thought she was still a lil baby hiding from zombies in the pantry & playing doctor during COVID..... where did the time go.........

[aquaticmercy]

Breaking Point

Summary : You and Bucky had always hated each other. When Bucky gets injured during a mission, you start wondering if the hatred was just masking something else.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Enemies to Lovers and Confessions! Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Past trauma. Cursing. Violence. Injury. A bit of Jealous!Bucky.

Requested by : @beansprout713

Word count : 4.8k

Note : Enemies to Lovers will always be so good to write about. Thank you for requesting this! Enjoy!

Requests are open!

You adjusted your coat, clutching your purse as you strolled back toward the Avengers compound after your date. Your head hung low from the frankly underwhelming night you shared with Ryan, a guy you’d met through a mutual friend. 

Ryan was a librarian. He was perfectly fine, perfectly handsome, perfectly polite. But you weren’t looking for perfect. You sighed. 

He talked about his job, about how a group of school kids making noise had been annoying him. When he asked about yours, you shifted in your seat with unease. You can’t really tell the whole truth. What would that even sound like?

Oh, I went on a mission last week and shot a guy. Don't worry, he was a bad guy.

You would’ve sounded ridiculous.

In the end, Ryan was just another normal person. He couldn’t keep up with you, with your life, being an avenger. With this line of work, you wondered if you’d ever find love. 

You were halfway up the steps to the entrance when you saw him.

Bucky Barnes stood by the doors, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His blue eyes locked on you as soon as you came into his view. The outdoor light cast long shadows across his face, strengthening the sharpness of his features.

Bucky watched you walked up the steps. He clenched his jaw, forcing down the aching swirl inside him. It was easier to push you away, to let the sharp edges of his words do the damage before you could get any closer, even if he could not deny how beautiful you were underneath the dark glow of the night sky. His gut twisted, knowing you put in all this effort for some half-decent guy who could never give you enough, not that you needed to put any effort at all. He shook his thoughts away, eyes narrowing. 

Great, you thought. The last thing you needed tonight was to deal with his brooding attitude. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever sharp remark he was about to throw your way.

Bucky stepped closer, his chest only inches from yours now, and the proximity sent a jolt of heat through you. His gaze flickered down to your lips for the briefest second before he met your eyes again.

"Out late, aren’t we?" His voice was low.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him as you opened the door to the compound. "It's called having a life, Barnes. You should try it sometime."

He followed you inside, his boots heavy against the floor. "A life, huh?" He scoffed, his tone harsher than usual. “That’s what you call having dinner with some guy who won’t last longer than a week?" His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was something else behind it—something you couldn't quite identify. His eyes didn’t leave yours, and the air between you crackled with a tension you had always felt with him. 

You swallowed hard. "Why do you care who I spend my nights with?" you replied, your voice shakier than you intended. 

His jaw clenched. "Maybe I care because none of those guys know what you really need." His voice was gravelly, and the implication in his words made your stomach flip. For a second, you couldn’t breathe.

You quickly brushed his words. "And you think you do?" you shot back, but your voice faltered. 

Bucky left the question open, not knowing how to respond. Instead, he did what he always does best. He deflected. "You can’t keep a boyfriend because you’re too brash. Too loud."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You swallowed hard, the pain twisting in your chest as his words echoed in your mind. He always had a way of cutting deep, but this was different. Calling out your coping mechanisms seemed too low, even for Bucky.

"Wow." Your voice wavered slightly, but you quickly steadied it, refusing to let him see just how much he affected you. "You really know how to hit where it hurts, don’t you?"

Bucky didn’t respond. For a second, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe. But he didn’t apologise. Instead, he turned away, his metal arm flexing at his side.

"Just go to bed," he muttered, almost condescending except for the hint of softness in his voice. "I need you well rested for the mission tomorrow."

As much as you and Bucky outwardly despised each other, the two of you were surprisingly effective partners in the field. Again and again, you found yourselves paired together. You never complained, though. There was an undeniable intimacy in your partnership that you craved, even if Bucky hated your guts.

"Is this really about the mission?” Your anger bubbled to the surface. 

His hand shot out suddenly, gripping your wrist—not hard, but firm enough to stop you from moving too far past him. His metal fingers were cool against your skin, his blue eyes alight with frustration. "It’s about you not taking things seriously.” He said, almost sneering. “Instead of preparing your gear, you're off with some random guy. Do you even care?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Not in front of him. 

"I care more than you think, Bucky," you said quietly, pulling your arm away from his grip.  "But you don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t know why I am the way I am."

Bucky’s expression softened slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly snapped it shut, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. The truth was, he’d been watching you for months. Not just on missions, but in moments like these, when you thought you were alone. You wore your confidence like armour, but sometimes, when you let it slip, he caught glimpses of something deeper. Something that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way he did, whatever that feeling was. Whatever the racing heart in his chest meant. Whatever the butterflies in his stomach meant. 

But he couldn’t let himself go there. 

The silence between you was unbearable, and finally, you turned away.

"Let’s just get through tomorrow without killing each other, okay?" you muttered. Without waiting for his response, you walked away, leaving him standing alone..

Why did he always do this? 

He didn’t know half of what you carried. Didn’t know what it was like to lose—to build your walls higher every time someone left, because that was the only way to survive.

Or maybe he knew too much of what it was like.

You spent your life keeping people at arm's length. Dates were fine. Fun. Superficial. They didn't ask for more than you were willing to give. You could smile, laugh, let your guard down just enough to feel normal, but never enough to let anyone in. 

Bucky—he was too close. He saw too much. He could cut through the walls with one sentence, and it scared you.

As you made your way back to your bedroom, part of you wondered—what would happen if you let him in?

What a stupid thought. 

—

The next morning, the air between you and Bucky was still cold, your argument from the night before hanging in the air like a hurricane. You were briefed on the mission, but you barely paid attention. Your mind was still reeling from the sting of Bucky’s words. And you hated that he had the power to make you feel this way.

In the quinjet, silence filled the space between you, making the air feel too thick and heavy to breathe. Bucky sat across from you, his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands resting on his knees. You stole a glance at him, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched tight, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes as he glanced at you. Regret, maybe?

“Look," you muttered, breaking the silence. "About last night—"

“Don’t," he cut in, his voice low but firm. "Let’s focus on the mission."

You swallowed, biting back whatever words had been forming. He didn’t want to talk about it. Fine.

The knot in your chest tightened. You wanted to tell him—wanted to say something to bridge the gap between you, but the walls were still there, and neither of you was ready to break them down.

—

The mission was supposed to be simple. You and Bucky had done this a hundred times—get in, gather intel, get out. He was the shadow, slipping in unnoticed, while you were the distraction, loud and violent, drawing the guards’ fire away. 

You took point, leading the guards away with your usual brashness. Something that Bucky criticized you for.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, tracking your every movement. Most of the time, his gaze felt like scrutiny, like he was waiting for you to mess up. But today there was something else. Protectiveness, perhaps?

As you manoeuvred through the base, you split up. You were supposed to patrol the halls, distract any guards, draw fire from Bucky to you. Bucky was supposed to secure the intel. You stopped in the centre, where you were supposed to wait for communications right about now. 

Where is he? you thought, scanning for Bucky, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was supposed to signal once he’d reached the server room. But the silence on the comms was making you nervous.

Your instincts kicked in, as you heard more guards coming from your left. 

You cursed, ready for confrontation.

You felt exposed, vulnerable. Normally, you could feel his presence. But now, something was different. The usual synchrony between you two felt… off.

Suddenly, the footsteps halted as gunfire erupted in the distance, shattering the uneasy quiet. Your heart raced. That wasn’t part of the plan. Bucky wasn’t supposed to engage until he had the data. The sound of gunshots rang in your ears, echoing in the corridors of the enemy base.

“Barnes, what the hell’s going on?” you hissed into the comms, trying to keep your voice steady. No response.

Your breath hitched. Something was wrong. Your steps quickened, your pulse pounding in your ears. The sound of shouting and footsteps grew closer. Where the hell is he?

You ran towards where Bucky was supposed to be. Rounding a corner, suddenly a gunshot rang out—close. Too close.

A sharp pain seared across your side as you dove for cover behind a stack of crates. You cursed under your breath, pressing your hand to the wound. Blood oozed through your fingers. The bullet had grazed you, which was survivable, but the sting was enough to remind you just how dangerous this was becoming. 

You shot your attacker with your last bullet, bullseye on the center of their forehead. The body went stiff, still on the ground. Brutal. Clean. Necessary.

“Where are you, Barnes?” you muttered, your breath coming in ragged bursts, but you were only met with static from the other line. You were supposed to be the distraction, but without his backup, you felt vulnerable in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Damn it, this isn’t working. You threw away the comms and crushed it beneath your heel.

You heard the commotion getting closer and closer, and then suddenly the gunfire stopped. Maybe Bucky had been able to disarm the enemy and was making a run for it. 

You glanced over the edge of a crate. Your eyes widened, spotting the sniper hidden on the corner, by an air vent, aiming on your head. Your heart pounded, knowing you don’t have the energy to dodge another shot. 

You took a deep breath, readying for impact.

Then, there was a flash of movement—Bucky!

He appeared out of nowhere, barreling toward you just as the sniper lined up his next shot.

“Move!” he shouted, his voice brimming with panic. 

Before you could react, his body slammed into yours, tackling you to the ground. The breath was knocked from your lungs as you hit the ground hard, his weight pinning you down. 

Bucky’s chest pressed against your back, his breath heavy in your ear as he shielded you from the line of fire. His metal arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and despite the chaos, you couldn’t ignore the heat of his body, the way it made your skin tingle. But the relief was short-lived.

The next sound you heard was a grunt of pain.

You twisted beneath him just in time to see Bucky stumble, his hand clutching his side. Blood. Too much blood. It soaked through his tactical suit, spreading rapidly as he slumped back, his face pale with pain.

“No!” The word tore from your throat as you scrambled to your feet, gently laying him on the ground before he could fall. You grabbed his arm, trying to keep him upright, but he was heavy, his body sagging against yours.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, his voice strained, but the way he leaned on you told a different story.

You felt the adrenaline surge through your body, giving you the last boost of energy you needed. You grabbed Bucky’s rifle, blindly shooting at the direction of the sniper. 

You weren’t shooting clean shots anymore. You didn’t care. You didn’t stop until you saw the body fall on the floor. 

You scrambled back to Bucky. 

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and fear as you pressed your hand to the wound in his side, trying to stop the bleeding. “Why didn’t you stay in position? You weren’t supposed to—”

“To what?” he rasped, wincing as he tried to move. “Let you die?”

“I had it under control!” you shot back, hough you knew it was a lie. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, but the closeness only fueled your anger. “If you had just stayed where you were—”

“You were in the open. I had to—” Bucky interrupted, his voice sharper than before, his eyes dark with frustration. His hands tapped his pocket, making sure he had the intel you came here for.

“I was doing my job, Bucky!” you shouted, your grip tightening on his arm. The fear bubbling up in your chest was quickly being overtaken by anger, the unresolved tension from last night’s fight bleeding into the moment. “But you—damn it, why do you always have to make everything harder than it is?!”

His eyes met yours, blazing with frustration. “I’m the one keeping you alive!” he growled, stepping closer despite the pain radiating from his wound. “You never listen—”

“You don’t trust me!” you accused him, your voice shaking when you noticed the bleeding wasn’t slowing. Did it hit an artery? “and now you’re hurt because you had to play the hero!”

His jaw clenched, his hand gripping your arm tightly as he struggled to stay upright. “I don’t—” He stopped, his voice catching as the weight of your words sank in. His eyes flickered with something that made your heart twist. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The confession was so quiet, so raw, that it hit you harder than any bullet could have. 

Your anger faltered, the heat of the moment cooling as you stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. “Bucky…” you started, but the words died on your lips.

Soon, you heard hostile footsteps growing louder in the distance. You didn’t have time for this. Not now.

You tore your gaze from his, focusing on the immediate task at hand—getting him out of here. 

You supported Bucky as best you could, half-dragging him through the enemy base toward the extraction point. His body was heavy against yours, his breaths shallow, but he still had enough strength to keep his arm around you, guiding you through the chaos.

“Stay with me, Barnes,” you muttered, your voice tight with worry as you half-ran, half-stumbled through the corridors.

Bucky groaned in response, his grip on you tightening, his weight sagging against your side. “Are you even… strong enough to carry me?” he gritted out, his voice laced with pain. There was a flicker of his usual sarcasm there, a sign he was still fighting.

You shot him a glare, even as panic clawed at your chest. There was a hint of charm in his voice this time, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. “Don’t make me regret saving your ass.”

His weight pressed heavily on your shoulders, and his blood soaked into your gear, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Every time his breathing hitched, you pushed yourself harder, refusing to let the fear of losing him take over.

—

By the time you got him back to the quinjet, Bucky was barely conscious. You worked frantically to stabilise him, your hands shaking as you hooked him up to an IV and bandaged the wound as best as you could with the limited supplies on hand.

When you finally returned to the Avengers compound, they wheeled him away to the med bay, and despite the doctors’ reassurances that he’d pull through, you refused to leave his side. 

For the rest of the night, you stayed by his bedside. 

Sam dropped by a couple of times, bringing you water and food you couldn’t bring yourself to touch. On his third visit, he lingered, watching you with a knowing expression. Bucky was still unconscious, the steady rhythm of the EKG was the only sound in the room as you stared at him. Your hands clutched the arms of your chair as if holding onto something solid would stop your thoughts from spiraling.

“You’ve been here a while,” Sam said softly, not wanting to disturb the stillness in the room. “You should eat something.”

He pointed at the bottle and sandwich he had brought a couple of hours ago. You nodded faintly, but your eyes didn’t leave Bucky. “I’m not hungry.”

Sam sat in the chair next to you, his gaze flicking between you and Bucky. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"So..." he started, drawing out the word like he was testing the waters, "you finally decide to stop dancing around each other or what?"

You shot him a glare, but it lacked the amusement you usually reserved for his teasing. "Sam, not now."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Sam replied, holding his hands up in defence. "It's been months of this weird tension, and now you're sitting here like you're at the end of some romantic drama. It's about time you said something."

“Can we not do this now?" You repeated, snapping this time, though you did not mean to. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Sam reassured you quietly, now aware of your agitation, “You don’t need to sit here all night worrying.”

“I’m not…” you trailed off, realising how defensive you were being. With a sigh, you slumped back on your chair. “I… I should’ve seen the sniper sooner.”

Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You know Bucky. He wasn’t about to let you take that hit, no matter what.”

You glanced at Bucky, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. You lowered your voice, scared that he would somehow hear you. “I don’t understand why he’s always like this. One minute he’s insulting me, and the next, he’s throwing himself in front of bullets for me.”

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You matter more to him than you think.”

You scoffed quietly, not quite believing him. “He sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“Listen,” Sam said, his tone soft but firm. “Bucky… he’s complicated. He doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. But the fact that you’re sitting here, all torn up over him? Makes me think his feelings aren’t one-sided.”

You looked over at Sam with visceral scepticism in your eyes. 

Sam leaned forward again, his expression serious now. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching. Hell, he gets jealous of the guys you go out with.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Sam’s words sink in. The argument with Bucky from the previous night echoed in your mind—his harsh words, the way he’d cut into you so deeply, as if trying to push you away. Was that really how his jealousy manifested? 

Then there was today, how he’d risked his life without hesitation to save you.

“He nearly died today,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat. “Because of me.”

“He didn’t do it because he had to.” Sam shook his head. “He did it because it was you.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Sam’s words settling in your chest. You had always felt the tension between you and Bucky, the unspoken something that simmered beneath the surface, but you had never let yourself fully confront it. Maybe because it was too scary to admit. Maybe because you feared that caring about someone like Bucky Barnes carried more risk than you were willing to take.

You blinked back the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t know what to do...” with all this information you had just dumped on me. 

Sam smiled faintly, standing up and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Just be here when he wakes up.”

You watched as Sam walked out, leaving you alone with Bucky again. You let your eyes fall back to his sleeping form, his face still pale but peaceful. You reached out, hesitating for just a moment, before gently brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead.

—

Hours had passed before Bucky finally stirred. The room was heavy with the weight of everything that had happened, thick with the scent of blood and sweat. You sat beside him, your body drained, shoulders hunched over. Your mind stayed alert—unable to tear your focus from him for even a second. 

“Bucky?” Your voice was hoarse, cracking under the pressure of everything you had witnessed, everything you had felt. 

His eyelids fluttered as if fighting to lift a weight the weight of the world. For a long, quiet moment, he just stared at you, eyes cloudy and disoriented. “You’re still here,” he mumbled, his voice fragile.

“Of course, I’m still here,” you shot back, the sharpness in your tone betraying the tenderness that hid behind it. Your emotions simmered beneath the surface, threatening to overflow. His muscles tensed as he attempted to sit up, but a grimace of pain shot across his face, stopping him short. “You should’ve let me handle it,” he muttered through clenched teeth, frustration leaking into his voice. Not because he had been shot, but because it broke his heart seeing you here. You looked so weak and sleep deprived. You looked so tired, your wounds untended.

The anger that had been quietly burning inside you flared. You rose to your feet, the chair scraping the floor in the silence. Your conversation with Sam swam in the back of your mind, but old habits die hard. “Handle what, Bucky? Getting shot?” 

His gaze snapped to yours, the weariness in his eyes replaced with a flash of cold steel. “Why does it matter to you if I live or die?” His voice cut through the room, louder now, tinged with a bitterness. 

The question hit you like a blow, freezing you in place. Your heart pounded violently against your ribs, the truth clawing at your throat. Every wall you’d carefully constructed around yourself, every defence you had in place, crumbled in an instant. Before you could stop yourself, the words you had fought so hard to keep buried tore free.

“Because I fucking care about you!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I care about you so much that I have to pretend I don’t just to keep myself sane! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The air between you felt electric. Bucky’s eyes widened, the force of your confession hanging in the space between you, churning like a wave ready to break. He didn’t move, didn’t speak at first, just stared at you as if seeing something he couldn’t comprehend.

Then, after a beat that seemed to stretch into eternity, his voice came, a low, gravelly whisper that was almost lost in the silence. “You think I don’t feel the same?” His words trembled with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before.

Your breath caught, and your body stilled. Maybe Sam was right, the realisation dawned on you.

His voice was cracking under the strain of emotions he’d long suppressed, grunting as he sat up. “I push you away because it’s easier than admitting how much I—” His jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists as he struggled to say what he’d buried for so long. “If I let myself feel it... if I let myself get close to you... I’ll lose you. And I can’t—” His voice faltered, breaking. “I can’t lose you.”

Your heart wrenched at his words, at the fear so raw in his voice. Slowly, you took a step toward him, your legs trembling beneath you. The distance between the two of you had never felt so vast, even though it was only a few feet. “Bucky…” The anger, the frustration—it had drained away. Your voice was softer now than it has ever been with him, gentle. You sat on the edge of the bed, facing him.

He looked up at you, and in his eyes, you saw everything you had ever felt mirrored back at you—the fear, the longing, the unspoken love that had always been there but never acknowledged. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally let the walls fall completely. 

“It’s easier than admitting how much I—” Bucky tried again, but couldn’t finish. The words weren’t enough. 

You closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, your hands reaching for him, pulling him into you, and your lips crashed against his with a force that felt like it could shatter the walls around you. 

The kiss was desperate, letting go of everything you had kept at bay for so long. It was raw, unfiltered. It was an outpouring of all the feelings you had tried so hard to ignore. There was nothing but you and him, the world outside of this fading away into nothingness.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, chests rising and falling in sync, your foreheads pressed together as if you were trying to ground yourselves. The gravity of what had been revealed was too much for you to process.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

"What is this?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What are we?”

Bucky's breath was shaky, his forehead still resting against yours as he struggled to find the right words. His hands hovered at your waist, as if he wasn’t sure whether to hold you tighter or let you go. The vulnerability in his eyes, raw and unguarded, mirrored yours.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice rough and hoarse, barely audible. “But I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t mean something.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings, afraid of what he might find there. “You… you matter to me. More than anything or anyone.”

The honesty in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ribcage. You didn’t know how to respond—your thoughts in a tangled mess. 

“Bucky…” You started, unsure of where to begin, but the words just didn’t come. You reached up, cupping his face gently with your hand, brushing your thumb across the stubble on his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, a shaky exhale escaping his lips.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. “I’ve lost so much. I’m scared—” He broke off.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you whispered, the words firm, even though fear still lingered in the back of your mind. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as the weight of your words settled. Bucky stared at you, pressing his forehead against yours once more, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly.

“Together,” he repeated softly.

The room was quiet again, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only sound that broke the silence. You sat there, holding each other in the stillness.

And maybe, someday soon, you’d have the courage to say what you both had wanted to say:

I love you.

-end

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋjealousy, jealousyღ

pairing: boyfriend!megumi x reader

summary: after overhearing a conversation, you get seriously annoyed with megumi. he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags: fem!reader, assumptions, kissing, pet names, one phrase from jjk270, cursing, she/her pronoun use, no proofread

wc: 1k

after a hard day, you decided to get some milkshakes for you and your boyfriend. you'd looked all around for him, finally hearing his voice down a hallway. you saw him and called out to him.

“megum–”

“when shall we have the ceremony?” hana mused, clapping her hands. a moment of silence passed in the hallway, both you and megumi shared the same expression of disbelief. he turned and noticed your presence, reaching a hand out.

“[na–]”

you walked off before he could finish, leaving him with an embarrassed hana who had realized she'd jumped the gun.

but before she had the chance to apologize, he went after you. you were leaving, quickly. going to find your car and ditch this place, arms crossed and annoyed.

was it probably nothing? yes, but why would she even say that?? it pissed you off to no avail.

you sipped on your milkshake in annoyance, throwing it out in the nearest trash can to you. the taste was ruined and now sour like your mood.

the sound of megumi's' footsteps behind you made you rush to get the keys out of your purse quicker, unlocking the door with antsy hands. you slip in, only to realize you got in the passenger seat out of habit.

you cursed in silence as he slid into the driver’s seat besides you, rolling your eyes at the hand on your thigh. “whatever you heard, it's not what you think.”

“mhm.” you stared out the window, letting him take the keys out of your hands to start the ignition and the a.c, your car just got so hot. “baby, it wasn't like that.”

“sure it wasn't.”

he groaned in frustration, still holding your thigh as you felt his green eyes on you. “look at me.”

“why? need advice for your ceremony? i'd be great flower girl.” he palmed his face, annoyance evident in his features. “it wasn't like that and you know it.” you turned on the radio, not wanting to hear his excuses. but that honestly just pissed you off more. changing through the channels, it seemed everything just sought to make you mad.

“(jealous), just leave me alone, (jealous), just leav–”

“toss your dirty shoes in my–”

“yo no soy celoso, ¿pero quie–”

“i need to get her out the picture, she's really fuckin–”

you turned it off, the sound of the fan the only thing you heard. your eyes were closed but you could feel him looking at you. his hands moved to grab yours. he spoke gently. “are we gonna talk now?”

“maybe.”

“she got the wrong idea babe, i don't– i don't even think of a future without you, let alone talk about it with someone else when it doesn't involve us.”

“but why didn't you say anything?” you opened your eyes now, facing him as you pouted. “you shouldn't have even entertained the idea.”

he tried to stay serious, but he couldn't help the smile that spread out across his face. you just looked so cute while you were trying to be angry, like a mad bunny stomping it’s feet. “i didn't, i walked after you right after. i didn't even look at her, just at you. always you.” the smile of his face had to be hidden under his other hand, you were so annoyingly pretty.

“really?” your eyes were glossy as you looked over to him.

“really.” your faces inched closer, megumi leaning in first. your lips meet in a sweet kiss, the tension and jealousy fading as you melt into him. his arms wrapped around you, caging you into him.

your hands found themselves around his neck, deepening your kiss. the both of you could almost taste your desire for each other. well, he could taste the flavor of your milkshake, but that was besides the point. as his hand moved up to cup your face, tapping your jaw to wordlessly ask for permission, you tilted your head and let him in.

as if memorizing the cavern of your mouth, he explored it. you tasted so sweet, you felt so sweet against his hands too.

he finally pulled away. “mine.” he whispered in between kisses, “m’ all yours.” chaste kisses were peppered on your face, making you laugh and hit his chest.

you both were breathless at the end of it, faces dusted with pink. his pupils had hearts in them, holding your hand tightly with a soft smile over his face. “it really was nothing, i promise.”

“i know.. sorry.”

“id be mad too if someone said that to you, don't worry too much.” he kissed your forehead, before having a moment of realization.

the car felt hot, yes it was because you just had a romantic moment together, but it was also because you didn't have tinted windows. meaning,

“babe.”

“what?”

“i think.. everyone just saw us right now.”

your eyes widened. “you're.. holy shit you're right! drive megumi drive!”

you rushed him and simultaneously you covered your face. sorcerers, people, and in particular yuuji, nobara, hana, and gojo were jaw dropped outside the car. gojo had a hand over his heart.

“well, at least nobody will hit on either of us, right?

…i'll be quiet.”

“that's for the best.”

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[rafesangelita]

hii! can i request a 🍪 with ‘blue jeans’ by lana? ♡ tyy

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬

pairing: criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader

summary: ❝i told you that no matter what you did, i’d be by your side. ‘cause i’m a ride or die, whether you fail or fly.❞ — rafe gives you a choice to stay or leave when him and barry decide to break into a jewelry store.

warnings: slight humor, barry and reader are both drama queens, rafe being a mediator lol, all three of you commit a robbery, light fluff, making out, heavy petting

word count: 1.0k

a/n: moodboard + headcanon could be found here

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t a good person. he was good for you, and that’s all that mattered. “i’m telling you, bruh! if we hit that place we’re guaranteed at least a million dollars minimum.” you sat on the couch in barry’s trailer, pretending to be interested in whatever was playing on his god awful television. “a million?” rafe repeated. barry nodded. “i already scoped the place out. if we go in thirty minutes after the place closes, we’re golden.” he clapped his hands together.

“and why is that?” rafe leaned back in his chair, turning to steal a glance at you as you sat just a few feet away. “i was chatting up one of the girls behind the counter and she told me the owner’s security system sucks. the shit doesn’t even work,” barry laughed, “the reason i say thirty minutes is because that’s all the time we need to clear that shit out.” it all sounded too good to be true. “when do you wanna do this?” rafe got up, plopping down next to you where he pulled you onto his lap.

“tonight.” you and rafe exchanged a look. “what’s the urgency?” you spoke up, eyes following barry as he squatted down to your level. “you know how the mayor throws that celebration thing for all the law enforcement here? they just so happen to be throwing that event all the way on the other side of the island, which gives us all the opportunity to switch cars and get away with it. they’re basically telling us to go rob that store!” you scoffed at barry’s words.

rafe couldn’t deny it was a great idea. “‘telling us to go rob that store’ is a reach, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve come up with.” you twirled the ends of your hair, resting your head on rafe’s chest. “so what do you think? we got a few more hours until it’s that time.” rafe sighed, looking down at you before stroking your cheek. “you know you don’t have to come with us-” barry rolled his eyes, you two did this every single time.

“y’all are annoying.” he walked away, making the two of you laugh. “seriously though, baby, you know you don’t have to do any of this.” rafe always made sure he spoke softly to you, his tone just dripping with sweetness. “i go because i want to,” you pecked his chin, “there’s no where else i’d rather be.” rafe nodded, eyes full of adoration. you trusted him fully, and rafe didn’t take that lightly. “okay then. what do you say we get that condo you like so much. the one right there on the beach?” you smiled, nodding excitedly.

anytime rafe knew you two were going to hit another jackpot, he would tell you his plans for the money beforehand. “really?!” you sat up. rafe hummed, pressing a kiss to your lips as he walked you two over to where barry sat at the kitchen table. “alright, let’s plan this out.”

-

two and a half hours later, and all three of you were stepping into the stolen car barry got from his guy earlier that day. “you got the ski masks?” barry looked back, his shoulders deflating when he saw you and rafe already had yours on. “pink? seriously, y/n?” you slapped his shoulder, nudging him as rafe cursed under his breath. “what’s wrong with it?” you pouted. “that’s enough,” your boyfriend pointed a finger at his other partner in crime, “you, leave her alone.”

barry snatched the other ski mask from your hands, slipping it on before all of you looked around for any sign of witnesses. “it’s dead as fuck out here, we’re clear.” barry got out of the car first, popping the trunk to get out the duffle bags and crow bars he had in there. you walked up to the clear glass door, pushing it to see if it would budge. before you could back away, barry swung the metal bar, shattering the glass instantly. you screamed, rafe coming up to shove him.

“what the fuck, asshole?! you couldn’t tell her to move out of the way first?” rafe pulled you to his side, barry’s shirt balled up in his fist. “we don’t have time for this shit, bruh, just get a fuckin’ bag and fill it up.” rafe dragged you inside, both of you breaking the display cases. your eyes glimmered with the reflections of diamonds inside of them, your mouth parting slightly at the beauty of it all. “come on, baby, ‘promise you’ll be able to look at everything when we get home.”

you snapped out of your trance, grabbing everything you could. “what time we got?” rafe shouted, barry already clearing the first half of the store. “five minutes, let’s go!” you almost slipped on the broken glass, rafe catching you just in time with a wink. within five more minutes, all of you stood in the middle of the room, all display cases empty. “fuck, yeah. let’s get out of here.” you cheered, throwing your arms around rafe as he and barry got you in the car.

barry sped out of there, not one siren or flashing light in sight. “no fucking way we just slipped out like that!” rafe shouted, hitting the back of barry’s seat as he took his mask off. he always looked so hot when he took it off. his skin flushed, that adrenaline rush so evident on his face as he smiled from ear to ear. you did the same, immediately unzipping the large bag that sat on your lap. “oh, rafe! look at this!” you put a diamond ring on your finger, admiring it under the passing street lights.

you made everything look good, your boyfriend pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “pocket that one.” he whispered, a giggle leaving your lips as you straddled him in the backseat. barry glanced at the two of you through the rear view mirror. like always, rafe’s hands were roaming your body as if he was alone with you. “can you at least wait until i’m not in the same vicinity before you rip her clothes off?” you giggled, rafe waving him off. “chill out bro, you wanna join?” you slapped rafe’s chest playfully, hiding your face in his neck.

barry shook his head, his cheeks turning red as the sound of you and rafe’s lips echoed behind him.

[cutebat]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

What's Next?

Warning(s): Yandere themes, past neglect, a lot of swearing, stealing, violence, mentions of bribery

(This is where now you can pick your own choices in this series, so this isn't technically a chapter)

~~~~~

Two weeks went by quickly, thank God.

You arrived at school as how you could have if it wasn't for Bruce ruining your fucking break by making you spend time with the rest of the family.

You were forced to watch movies that made no sense due to its plot or whatever and went shopping, only for them to buy you things that you didn't like that all. Like, who still buys and wears things that could cause a whole closet clutter.

The worst part of all this is that Damian has to walk you everywhere around the school, except for using the restroom. Even worse is that Bruce changed your entire schedule to you having teachers who love to fuck you over. Because of this, you can't skip anymore!

Anyway, the day quickly went by, and now it was break time. As you two walked into the cafeteria, you spot your two basically only normal and only friends, Noelle and Sasha.

"(name)! There you are...-"

Noelle calls out to you before her smile slowly flattered when she spots Damian beside you.

"What is he doing here?"

She whispers to you that made you roll your eyes.

This made Damian narrow his eyes down at the two of them.

"Do you have a problem with me being here?"

He asks with a snarl that made your friends cringe a bit.

"(name)..."

Sasha mutters out to you that made you sigh.

"No, no... Damian, they're cool, don't worry."

You reassure him that luckily made him calm down.

"Oh, alright then. Come now, sister. We need to find a table."

Damian tells you which made you feel annoyed.

"Oh, uh, actually. I need to get my water bottle. I left it in my locker, so..."

You try to make an excuse to get out of here.

"No worries, I can go get it for you."

Damian said as he turns around.

"Wait, you don't know my combination!"

You call out of realization.

"I'll figure it out."

He calls back as he leaves the cafeteria.

You and your friends stayed where you were in silence.

"Isn't this great?"

You speak up out of sarcastically as you sit down with them.

"(name), what are you doing with that guy?"

Sasha asks as she takes a bite of her pudding.

"Being stuck by his side for the whole day and the entire Christmas break?"

"No, why are you hanging out with him?"

"Oh, god, don't be a bitch over this. I know he's such a pain in the ass, but I can tolerate him, okay?"

"No, we're not jealous or anything, he's actually fucking insane, (name)!"

Noelle tells you

"Insane like how?"

You ask as you cross your arms.

"Sent many guys to the infirmary, punched a guy in the throat earlier, nearly set a teacher's car on fire."

Noelle said as she started to list down all the things that Damian did.

"Wait, so all of this happened in one day?"

You ask with your eyes wide a little.

"Yeah."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I have two classes and a passing period with him."

At that moment, a guy with a neck cast walked up to your table.

"Were you guys just talking to Damian?"

He asks the three of you.

"Yeah."

Sasha mutters out.

"I hate him. He literally punched me in the throat during gym and didn't even apologize to me or get expelled. I'm pretty sure he paid off the headmaster or something."

He said with his eyes furrowed that meant he was pissed.

"See?"

Noelle mutters to you.

"Hold on, why did he exactly punch you for?"

You ask out of curiosity.

"Cause I said that you were pretty hot and told him that he was a wimp about it or something."

He said as he rubs his cast.

"Still sound normal to you?"

Noelle asks you.

"Oh, come on. That's like one of the things that's like the less worse things."

You tell her.

"'Less worse'?! I was passed out for like half an hour!"

The guy said in a defensive tone.

"Dude, that sounds like a you problem."

You tell him with a bored expression.

"Oh... Shit hurts."

Sasha said with a chuckle.

"Fuck you, guys... Stupid bitches..."

The guy mutters out as he walks away from you and your friends.

"Anyway, what can I do about all of this?"

You ask as you place your chin on the palm of your hand.

"Honestly, I don't know. You're pretty much on your own, (name)."

Noelle said as she takes a sip of her honey milk.

"What? You guys aren't going to help me?"

"We want to, but we don't know how."

"Please? Like actually, please. I have no idea what to do and I don't even know how to get away from all this."

You tell your friends in a slight pleading tone.

Noelle and Sasha gave each other a glance before they stare back at you.

"Okay, fine. As much as we don't know either, we'll try whatever we can, okay?"

Sasha said as she sets her pudding cup down.

"What are you exactly going to do now, (name)?"

Noelle asks in a soft tone with a soft gaze on her face

~~~~~

Go to your next class (Coming soon)

Skip until the end of the day with your friends (Coming soon)

Go home with your friends

•

•

•

Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15 @lilyalone @seraph101 @lain3iwakura @tacodeemon @whiterabbitxxx @yuyuzi-ling @lilithquillete @amisupposedtomakesenserightnow @una1002289 @spacetravelr @luckyangelballoon @illytian @ghostdoodlen @imaginarydreams @flyingpansaurus @wrenbirde @kimzzz18 @ohnoivefallen @ferakillia @f1lover4ever @asahi20789 @livingforloves @moonieper @rosecentury @waitingforanarchicaddiction @missmannequin @mischiefmanaged124 @hanselate @doli09 @chocolatemoose26 @enjisthings @stitchtheseconde @purple-lemon-8 @milliu @blublock404 @kimzzz18 @jsprien213 @bluemidnightmelodies @enter-sandmann @tdickensstuff4 @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @starsdotalk @sumikosasaki @erikasurfer @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @0lshadyl0

(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)

[kbwrites]

Up In the Clouds Ch.4

synopsis: you're friends arguing reaches a breaking point... for you. what will you do when you find out the real reason they've been fighting?

prev ← → next

⚝content: sugusato x f!reader, sfw, satosugu arguing, but they're arguing over youuuu

⚝wc: 1.4k

Suguru and Satoru always fought. From the year you’d known the duo, that much was obvious. Petty arguments and stupid disagreements were rampant in your trio. But, at the end of the day—usually forced by you—they would make up. Today, however, there was a disquieting air around them, an unfamiliar tension that gnawed at your peace of mind.

You three were in the courtyard for lunch, a place usually filled with the sounds of your laughter. You and Suguru ate bentos while Satoru dug into a sugary donut.

But something was... different.

No annoying quips from Satoru.

No heavy sighs from Suguru.

Just complete and utter… silence.

The courtyard, bathed in the soft afternoon light, felt oddly still. The rustling of leaves and distant chatter of other students did nothing to alleviate the growing unease. You shifted in your seat, the silence pressing down on you like a weight.

“Did Yaga yell at you two or something?”

Suguru glanced up, his hazelnut-colored eyes narrowing as he finally spoke. “No… it’s not that.”

Satoru  scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically behind his dark sunglasses. “Yaga yelling would be wayy easier to deal with than Mr. Perfect.”

The raven-haired teen’s jaw clenched. “Oh, I’m Mr. Perfect now? That’s rich coming from someone who thinks they know everything,  Satoru.”

“At least I don’t try to control every little thing” Satoru shot back, his words muffled by the mouthful of donut. ”Not everything has to be done your way, Suguru.”

“Maybe if you used your head a bit more, we wouldn’t end up in half the messes we do,” Suguru retorted, his tone icy.

You sighed, feeling like a mediator between two stubborn children.

“Guys, seriously, what’s going on? This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is Suguru thinking he can tell me what to do.” Satoru snapped, his voice tinged with frustration.

Finally, you’d had enough. The frustration and tension had reached a breaking point. Without saying a word, you stood up, grabbed your lunch, and turned to leave. The soft thud of your bento box as you placed it into your bag seemed to echo in the silence that followed.

Satoru’s blue eyes widened as he noticed you standing. “Wait, where are you going?”

Suguru’s head snapped towards you, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “What—?”

But you were already walking away, your footsteps brisk and determined.

“Great, just great! Now ya made her leave because you’re too scared to tell her the truth!”

Suguru’s face flushed with anger. “Me? You’re the one who turned this into a contest and made it impossible for me to even tell her how I feel!”

Satoru shot a glare at his best friend, his voice laced with bitter irritation.

 “Well… I don’t care!”

A week. Seven long days without your best friends. They avoided each other entirely, which was pretty hard to do considering how small the school was.

The hallways almost fell deafening silent without the pair’s obnoxious laughter echoing through. According to Nanami it was “The best week of my life”.  But for you, it was a slow descent into madness. The absence of your two best guys, who were always there to bug you and share in the chaos, was unbearable.

Hell, even Yaga was starting to get worried.

Shoko wasn’t much help. Completely jaded by the routine of arguments and breakups between the second years, she shrugged off the situation with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “They’ll make up… eventually.”

You were never one to just sit back and let situations play out. So you whipped out your phone to set your plan in motion.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬

(Y/N)                                          (Y/N) Hey, movie tn? My place.    Movie night 2nite? Sugu                                          Toru Sounds great. I’ll bring the movie.     Heading 2 the store!    You sigh in relief. They WERE going to make up today, whether they liked it or not. Your phone buzzes again. Sugu                                         Toru Hey… just us right?                    Me n you right (Y/N)?                        (Y/N)                          Yep! Just us!

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬

You prepared your dorm, fluffing out the pillows, grabbing your softest blankets. Hiding any sharp objects. The soft glow from the tv and your fairy lights set a cozy atmosphere. You only hoped that it would help soften the tension between them.

Knock Knock

Your ears perk up at the noise, you stood up, smoothing your clothes as if they could somehow help soothe the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach. As you opened the door you saw Suguru, leaned casually against the doorframe, his raven hair falling in soft waves around his face. His kind eyes tinged with nervousness.

“Hey Suguru!” Your voice warm as you greet him, stepping aside to let the taller boy in. He settled into his favorite spot, grabbing the blanket he’d left here one too many times. You settled next to him as he pulled out four DVDs showing you the selection.

“I haven’t seen any of these yet actually.” He says looking at you.

As you both discussed the movies, you heard another knock at the door. You quickly stood up, hoping Suguru wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. 

“Hmm? Shoko Coming?”

“Not… exactly.” You laugh nervously as your hand slowly reaches for the doorknob. As the door inches open you see Satoru, his white hair slightly damp from his (never-ever missed 8pm Shower). He greets you with a smile, striding into dorm. Immediate irritation flashed across his face when he made eye contact with Suguru.

Their eyes narrow at each other, then at you.

“What’s HE doing here?”

You place your hands on your hips; side-eyeing Satoru to sit down. He begrudgingly takes a seat next to the raven-haired teen, pouting.

“We are watching a movie. And you’re both staying.” Your normally soft voice, firm as you glare at the two older teens.

They both shoot each other glares before sighing. You had won… for now. You took your place, right in between them.

You tried your hardest to just watch the movie, but it was so boring. Usually Suguru picked out pretty decent movies, but this documentary was NOT a decent movie. You stole glances at your friends; if you weren’t so pissed off at them you would’ve been blushing at the prospect of being sat between two attractive guys. 

Their close proximity made your heart race. You could feel the heat radiating from their bodies, and every small movement seemed amplified in the quiet room. Your hand reached into the popcorn bucket. As the pair saw your hand go in they both reached in with you, hoping to touch you.

Both flinching as their hands brushed each other’s instead of yours. They shot each other a glare before turning their attention back to the TV. A minute passes before Satoru speaks.

“I could’ve picked a better movie with my eyes closed.” The white-haired teen mumbles, shoving popcorn into his mouth.

“Just watch the movie, Satoru.”  Suguru replied with an exasperated groan, though his eyes never left the screen.

“This shit is gonna bore me to death.”

“That isn’t such a bad idea—”

You sigh heavily, grabbing the remote to pause the movie. You stand up, looking down at the two sorcerers.

“Alright. What the hell’s going on with you two?” You demanded

They both looked away, avoiding eye contact. Satoru crossed his arms, pouting even more, while Suguru ran his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

You tap your foot, glaring down expectantly.

Suguru glanced at Satoru, their eyes meeting in a brief, intense exchange. Satoru’s nod was almost imperceptible, but Suguru seemed to take it as a cue. He drew a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

“(Y/N)...”

“We’ve been acting like this because, well..”

“We’re both...” Satoru continued.

“In love with you.” Suguru finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, stunned by the confession. The room felt suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You stared at them, trying to process their words. Your breath hitched, struggling to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. It felt like a storm was raging within the confines of the small room, each thunderous heartbeat echoing off the walls.

“You’re… what?” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling.

Satoru stood up, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless.  “We’re in love with you, (Y/N). Both of us.”

Suguru’s nod was slow, almost hesitant. 

 “And it’s tearing us apart.”

taglist: @4evahevah @angelofdarkness2 @iangeeluv

@isishsoskdjsk @yunho-leeknow @starriesworlds @hiblue123158 @n3ptoonie

[haikyu-mp4]

Mattsun finally confessing to their oblivious manager pls? 🥺🤲 she’s the type to have flirtatious advances fly over her head and Mattsun’s not really good with words (it’s his very first confession. He’s nervous. Makki teasing him about it isn’t helping.)

Like the wind

word count; 744 – gn!reader

Matsukawa Issei was about to lose his mind. The only good thing about flirtatious advances flying right over your head like the wind was that at least you didn’t entertain any other guys who approached you either.

“You look good today.”

“I am feeling rather great, the sun shining always makes me feel revitalised.”

And Mattsun would watch with a little smirk from the sideline as you moved on to fill up water bottles as if his advances didn’t go just about the same way.

Well… except for the fact that they could hardly be called advances when he had no idea how to talk to you.

He would typically come over right as you filled the last bottle to carry the baskets for you, and when you thanked him with that pretty smile, all he could say was “Heh pfft yes. You’re welcome.”

As Makki snickered from the entrance to the gym, Mattsun felt like this might be a mission impossible even Tom Cruise couldn’t handle.

“Mattsun, y/n, go get the net, please!” Oikawa ordered, turning to Iwaizumi with a not-so-subtle wink.

“On it!” you yelled back, jogging over to the adjacent equipment room with Mattsun in tow, who was glaring over his shoulder at his friends.

You picked up the net, making an annoyed sound when a thread had gotten stuck on a hook that was a bit too high up. “Could you get that?” you asked. Issei cleared his throat, which made you take half a step back.

He leaned over you and tugged it loose, letting it fall into your arms. Now that he was standing so close, he gulped, looking at you with parted lips as if even he was wondering if any words would leave him. “Uh… good?” he stuttered, lifting a hand to pat the net.

“Excellent,” you emphasised, glancing out into the gym and then back to Mattsun. “Should we go?”

As he moved just a bit to the side, you slipped past him and scattered away, hoping he couldn’t hear the loud beating of your heart.

You’re walking to the gym in the wintertime, Iwa, Oikawa and Makki walking in front of you and Mattsun beside you, the cold biting at any exposed skin as you moved from your last lecture to the gym for practice. While thinking about something you needed to remember for that class, you started fiddling with your hands in thought, and Mattsun noticed.

“Your hands look cold,” he said, pulling the hand closest to you out of his pocket but not saying anything further.

You looked up at him and tilted your head before looking back at your hands. “Oh? Don’t worry, they’re not.”

He grumbled something along the lines of ‘great’ while watching Makki snicker in front of him, taking mental note of where his next serve would hit. The hand was quickly tucked back in his pocket like nothing happened.

It wasn’t until after the last tournament in their third year that Matsukawa finally decided to go for it. He’d watched his friends break down crying after their devastating loss and he couldn’t help how his heart softened while watching you frantically pull tissues out of a box to dry their tears.

As you checked behind you that no player was left behind, a hand touched your shoulder and slid under the strap of the equipment bag. You didn’t startle, seeing it was Mattsun. “It’s not heavy, you know I can get it,” you said with a knowing smile but didn’t make any effort to take the bag back.

“Makes me feel cool, let me have this,” he joked, and it made the two of you chuckle under your breaths as you left the gym. Having a good cry loosened up his nerves, he supposed. Walking out was bittersweet, wanting to enjoy the last bit of energy from the game while the weight of the loss sat heavily on his shoulders. You couldn’t imagine how they felt, but Matsukawa wanted you to at least know how he felt. “I like you.”

You nodded and kept walking, smiling at the tall guy by your side. “I like you too, you know that.”

He huffed, smiling affectionately but still in disbelief. “No, I like you.”

Your legs stopped moving gradually, grabbing his hand loosely as you stopped. He turned to you with an unsure grimace and you tilted your head. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Believe me, I tried.”

masterlist

[funficwriter]

Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!

A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!

Warnings; None, really.

Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)

Lyney

First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!

If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.

(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)

Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.

He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.

If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.

"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."

Lynette

It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.

She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.

She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.

Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.

"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".

She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".

Neuvillette

You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.

For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.

First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.

He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.

(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)

If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.

While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...

"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".

Navia

She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!

If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.

Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.

Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.

She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.

With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.

"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".

Furina

"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"

Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.

She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!

One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.

She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.

"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"

If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3

Wriothesley

"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".

Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.

Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".

So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.

"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".

I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜

[spidybaby]

hi! pls do something where reader is xavis daughter and shes helpin' him with water and other things at the trainings because shes like grounded but not everyone knows shes his kid and she and pedri become closer and he defend her when one of the team say something cruel to her pls

Sorry my english is not the best is not my first language

Water girl

Summary: The team doesn't know you're Xavi's daughter until Pedri and you begin a relationshp and everything comes to light.

Warnings: cursing, physical altercation, slut shaming.

A/N: This is long, I kinda got inspired and wanted to share something with you. Hope you like it ❤️ love you✨️🌸 @gadriezmannsgirl hi 😛❤️

"You have to be kidding me. There's no way in hell I'm spending my vacation like this." You yell, hurrying upstairs.

The thing about being the kid of an elite football player is that you're not faster than them. They will always win.

You tried to close your door, but Xavi managed to stop it before it closed. "Go away, oh my God."

"That's the good thing about being your father, mi reina. You obey what I say, not the other way around. So go change and meet me in the car."

He slams the door on his way out. But the door is opened again, this time by Nuria. "You better hurry up. He's going to come back and take you to the car even if you're in pajamas."

"Nu, that's totally unfair." You whine, walking to your closet. "Are you seriously allowing this?"

"Don't forget to put on some sunscreen." She waves you goodbye and close the door.

You grab a leggin, an oversized t-shirt, and put on your Jordans. You did put on some sunscreen, not wanting to do anything with your hair, only putting it up.

"Bye, if I die, this is on you guys. Hope you know that." You told your stepmother on your way out. She laughs at your annoyed behavior.

Xavi is waiting on his car. He has this big smile on his face. To you is like he's laughing at you. You walk slowly to the car, making him raise an eyebrow.

"I'm the boss, I can be late if I want to, so don't worry. No matter how slow we are still going to make it." He says as you open the car door.

"Papi, please."

"Let's go, reina."

Having no other option, you hop up. He was giving you a talk about life and having goals. The talk continued until you made it to the training camp.

"Your uncle Oscar is waiting for you. Please go to my office." He says, handing you a "staff" card. "This opens the doors."

You obey, walking the way you already know. The long hallway that only staff members are allowed to be, and different offices, some for the technical team, some for meetings, his office.

You knocked before walking inside, your uncle was on his phone, writing something he was reading on a board.

"Hey."

"Hola, reina." He smiles, leaving what he's doing to get close and hug you. "So happy to see you again."

"Hola, I missed you so much." You hug him back. He was patting your back. "Please help me, I don't want to do this."

The sound of the door opening and laughs saved the moment for you. It was your dad with a blonde lady.

"Oh hello! It's so good to have you back."

"Hello." You smiled, not the best at picking conversations.

"Gosh, Xavi. Your daughter is so big. I remember when I last saw you at your father vows renewal, you were so small."

"This is Martina. She's the boss of the interns and some social media people." Xavi says, you smile again but this time nodding your head. "She will be your boss."

"Your father tells me that you wanted to get something to do now that you're here in Barcelona."

"Yes, something to do." You say sarcastically, Xavi gave you a look. "I'm happy to be here." You lie.

"Well, I need some help in the recovery training. They need someone who helps with the water."

"Like a water girl?"

"Si, you're going to be their water girl."

You nod, eyes on your father, who's smiling in a particular way that's making you angry. "That's great, let's go."

Martina guides you to the little room with coolers, some freezers with ice packs, a bunch of stock of Gatorade, water, and water bottles of the sponsor.

"So, we already fill this one with Gatorade and some wattle bottles from prime, the players who are in recovery have a more private training, so you're with them."

You let her explain to you the training hours, the days the social media girls were there to film and that day you had to bring the prime bottles, the Gatorade thing that makes squishi drinks and how to fill it.

"I want to ask you something."

"Whatever you want, yes?"

"I don't want anyone to know that I'm Xavi's daughter, I want just to be like an intern, maybe?"

Martina nods her head. She gets what you mean, not wanting to be favored. "We can do that." She smiled. "Also, we have these t-shirts for interns to change into, so before going to the training camp, you can change."

You went to the nearest bathroom and changed the oversized t-shirt. Leaving the old one in the little closet because Martina said so.

You grab the small cooler, walking with Martina, who was explaining to you who you were working with. You had to be there the whole training and offer the player some water every two series of exercise.

"You're today with Raphinha and Pedri. So it's going to be easy, they're nice and friendly."

She led you to the training camp, Oscar was helping the two players to warm. He waves you happy, and you return the wave.

"If you need a pointer, Pedri likes blue Gatorade and Raph likes the red one."

"Which one is Pedri?" You ask confused, not really knowing who was who because you weren't used to the team.

"The one without tattoos. I have a meeting with some interns, see you later, hun."

"Okay, have fun in your meeting."

The training was boring, nothing new. They were making a smoother training because of their injuries.

Oscar stands next to you, almost at the middle of the training. "Your dad once brought you to the training. You made everybody do push-ups. He went home super proud about you liking football."

You smile at the story, not really remembering about it. "Uncle Andres used to say I was going to be playing as a forward."

"Nah, you have more as a midfielder."

"What position do they play on?"

"Pedri is a midfielder, Raphinha is a right winger." He points at them once he mentions their names. "Venga chicos, take five and we continue."

You get up from the bench, walking to the players. They were chatting and making jokes.

"Hola, tengo agua." You say awkwardly. (Hi, I got water)

Raphinha laughed at how uncomfortable you look, more used to interns or water girls who were ready to flirt with them.

"First day?"

"Is it that obvious?" You shrug your eyes.

"A little, just used to other type of treatment." He jokes, moving his eyebrows up and down.

You don't know what face you made, but Pedri laughed at your facial expressions.

"Te mandaron a comer papilla." He laughs, hitting Raphinha on his arm. (You were rejected)

"I like you. Can you pass me the red Gatorade?" Raphinha looks at you up and down.

You get both colors, passing one to Pedri as well. He thanked you and smiled a little with you. You go back next to your uncle.

Training was quick. It wasn't like the first team due to their injuries.

You can't help but feel something weird about the job. You haven't been on a training or stadium since you were a kid.

"Hola, oye, puedes darme una botella de agua?" (Can you pass me a bottle of water), he whispers, noticing that you're distracted.

You go back to reality. Nodding and handing him the bottle of water.

"Is it fun working here?" He asks.

"Considering this is my first day like you figure out, I think it's good." You say, half smile on your face.

"Bueno, not all first times are good." He shrugs, smiling at you.

You wanted to laugh, but you just smile and nod. "Yep, that's true."

"Thank you." He hands you the bottle again. Walking back to the field.

🪷🪷🪷

The next days were easy for you. Even when you didn't want to say it, you did enjoy watching them train and do other activities than be home.

You got assigned with the recovery team as long as there were players training.

"For how long are they training like this?" You ask curious.

"Until the medical team tell us that they can train and play with the first team."

"What happened to Pedri?" You say, eyes fixed on his back. He was doing some penalties practice.

"He injured himself a long time ago, and that same injury is coming back now." He says, you nod in response. "Frenkie, don't skip that part, I'm watching you, son."

They do another five rounds until the next break. Pedri walked over to you again. "El calor está." He wipes the sweat with his hand. "How can you look so fresh? It's like hell fire."

"I used to live in Brazil, this is fresh for them." You confess.

"Wow, Brazil." He smiles. "Can I have some water?"

"Two euros per bottle." You joke, handing him the bottle. "And five per Gatorade."

"I don't have change on me, but if I found you after the training, I'll make sure to pay my debt." He smiles, throwing the bottle back in the cooler.

"I'll take that as a promise." You say, returning the smile.

"Maybe you can tell me about Brazil." He says, going back to the middle of the field where Oscar is explaining something to Frenkie.

You check your phone while the training finishes. You texted Nuria what you were doing with a picture of the cooler.

"Reina, go back inside. The weather is crazy hot, and we're almost done. You can leave the cooler."

"You sure?" You ask, leaving your phone. "I can wait."

"Do me a favor, this are notes about today's training, take them to my office and you can go do some other thing."

You nod, leaving the little cooler there and asking him to take care of it, saying you will be back for it.

You walked back to the office. You still have your dad's card from the first day so you can enter every place.

You wanted to stay inside and relax in the air conditioner but you wanted to do a nice job as you were charged.

You go back to the field to collect the cooler and take it to its place. Stealing a Gatorade for yourself while you walk back inside.

"That would be five euros, or do you have a discount?"

You turn to find Pedri smiling. He has a prime bottle in his hands. You smile back, sipping on your drink again.

"It's the payment for our job." You say, sassy teasing tone.

"I thought interns didn't get paid."

"We don't?" You ask, confused. "Well, that's sad."

You pout at the thought of it. He finds that funny because he thought the first thing they told the interns is that they're not getting paid.

"So I own you seven." He jokes.

"Make it twenty, I have to make a living." You shrug smiling. Thing that makes him smile back.

"Twenty and a talk? Or those come with an extra charge." The tone of his voice and the way he's closer than before got you thinking not so good things.

You were about to answer, but a voice calling your name from behind makes you turn back.

"How was your first day?" Martina asks. "Pedri, hola."

"Hola, I was returning the bottle and saying a little thank you for helping with the water today, especially with this weather."

"Super hot." Martina laughs. "So good you had a nice day. Let me help you with the little cooler, and you can follow me."

"Sure," you whisper to her. Turning back to the black hair boy. "See you around." You wave your hand goodbye, following Martina.

She guides you to a room with three other people, all boys. They were seated around a little table talking.

"Hey boys, this is Y/n." She introduces you, you smile waving at them. "She's new, just came and she's our new water girl."

"Hey, that's my job," a blonde guy jokes. "I'm Marcus. This is Pablo, and this is Carlos."

"Hi, nice to meet you all. Sorry about the job, by the way."

"Please explain to her the time slip and Marcus, don't worry, I'll find you a new thing to do."

She left, saying her goodbyes. You stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do know.

"Take a sit, we were chatting about the next game." Carlos pat the chair next to him. "Are you a barca fan or just here for the experience?"

"Here for the experience." You say. "Are you barca fans?"

"Carlos is a Madrid fan but don't tell anybody."

"I'm not, I just said I like Ronaldo more than Messi."

They kept doing jokes about football, you check the time slip on the wall, to your surprise you are on it.

Most of the "soft training" was assigned to you, only two days for the "regular training" that was with the whole team.

"Hey, new girl."

"Si?"

"We have a fifteen minute break. We usually sneak in the kitchen and stole some food."

"I'm in, let's go."

🪷🪷🪷

You helped with ordering the equipment for the first team, putting the cones in order and taking out the bands they used to exercise in duos.

You finished positioning the equipment, leaving the field as the players began walking upstairs.

"Hey, come here." Xavi calls you. You walk over to your dad slowly, noticing him getting impatient. "Can you hurry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you go help your uncle at the gym?"

"Doing what?" You ask funny, "holding the weight while he works out?" You smirk.

"Don't be a smart-ass, reina." He tries not to laugh. "He's helping Pedri and Lewandowski. He needs help with something, I'm not sure."

You nod, walking downstairs and to the gym. After getting into the wrong place for the second time, you knew you had to ask someone.

"Are you lost?" Pedri asks.

You smile at the dark-haired boy in front of you. "Yes, this place is too big."

"Trust me, we all got lost the first week." He laughs at the thought. "Where are you going?".

"The gym, Xavi assigned me to help Oscar."

He points the direction with his head. Making you walk side by side with him.

"Oye, don't think I forgot you own me fifty." You joke. Hitting his shoulder with yours.

"Why is the price increasing by the hour?"

"Why not?" You laugh with him. "But don't worry, after the fifty the talk is free."

"It better be," He jokes back. "Well, here we are."

You walk over to your uncle, asking him how can you help him. He instructed you to help him take time and to write down the weight the players are lifting.

You sat in a machine with a notepad and a chronometer. You were timing every round to help with consistency in the training.

"Be nice with me, please," Pedri says, getting ready to start. "If I fail, you lie and say I'm the best, okay?"

"Don't," Robert interrupts. "If he sucks you can say it outloud. Please."

"Lewa, go away."

Between laughs and jokes of the two players, you finished the rest of the day, Robert and Pedri were easy to be around.

When they finished their work, you got sent back with the other interns, saying your goodbyes to them.

🪷🪷🪷

The three weeks of helping at the club were easy.

You helped the injured guys with the water.

You helped the social media team, and you did a lot of things.

Xavi was impressed that after the first week, you wanted to keep going. He was hoping you would beg him not to take you, but instead, you were waiting for him to go first thing in the morning.

"Y/n, you will be with the first team today. The boys are helping with a project, so you will be alone."

You nod, giving her a thumbs up.

"First time alone with the big team." Marcus says. "If you want advice, do what the Mister tells you. He kinda screams at everybody when the players won't do what he says."

"I'll be frustrated, too." You say, honestly. "I mean, half of them can't even create an opportunity, and when they got an assist, they won't even do anything."

"Yes, but I think Xavi plays a big role into that. Maybe the rumors about him leaving aren't that bad after all."

You shut your mouth, not wanting to say something offensive to him. Your dad gave his heart to the team during very bad times when they could barely afford the players.

"I'm going to the field."

"Don't get defensive," he laughs. "I mean, I get that as a cule you love the old players, but Xavi is a little bit out of date. Like go home, with your wife and your perfect kids."

"Do you ever shut up?" You ask, laughing to make the situation less tense. "Let's not talk about him when we don't even know what his home life is like, and maybe don't do this at work."

"Wow, you're so uptight."

You scuff, walking with the heavy cooler to the field.

When you make it to the stairs, you notice that maybe being alone wasn't that cool. You got to get the cooler upstairs on your own.

A cooler with more than twenty bottles of water on a very large set of stairs. Great idea.

"Do you need help, new girl?"

Raphinha and Fermin got closer. A few of the players behind them.

"Hola. Yes, thank you.

"Raph, grab that side." Fermin says, lifting the left side of the cooler. "Why do they even let you get here all by yourself?"

"I think they didn't think about this part." You shrug.

The two boys helped you. You stayed a little behind due to the social media team filming them doing it.

"Y/n!" Pedri says, grabbing your shoulders. "Hey, thank you for that show recommendation. My brother and I saw it last night, and now I can't wait to go home and see more of it."

You smile at his words. Two weeks back, you exchanged numbers. You were getting closer by the day so you trusted him.

"Well, Pedri." You say, funny tone. "Hello to you too, nice evening. I'm doing so great. Thank you for asking. How are you today?" You smile.

He blushed, he knows you're joking but still feels the blush spreading onto his face.

"I'm doing good." He answers, hands intertwine behind his back. Clearly nervous. "Thank you for asking."

You wanted to keep the conversation, but you two heard Xavi calling the players to warm up.

"Venga, let's go. If not, we're both getting in trouble, me for not hydrating the team and you for not warming up enough."

He liked the way you joke, how your face had the right expression for your feelings. He liked how you treated him like a normal person and not like the footballer.

"What are you doing this weekend?" He asked, making you stop halfway on the stairs. "We have the day off. So I thought that maybe we could go out. I know this place to eat thats amazing and I think you would like it."

You can't help the smile that's on your lips. You liked him, maybe more than you care to admit.

"Looks like now I have a plan." You turn around after that, walking the remaining stairs. Little did he know that you did that for him not to notice your red face. "See you this weekend." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear.

You can tell Pedri is happy. The way he kept looking at you and sending you smiles is something else.

"Hey" you feel someone pocke you in the ribs.

When you turn, you find Marcus. Honestly, he was the last person you wanted to see. After the way he insulted your father, you didn't even want to cross words with him.

"Hey, you guys done with the project?" You ask, eyes watching the other players.

"Yeah, Martina sent us to different places, and I was sent here." He sits at the edge of the cooler. You didn't move, not wanting to have him next to you. "So, the boys and I are doing something this weekend, we were thinking about going out for some food. Would you like to come?"

"I actually have plans, but have fun." You say, very dry tone. "And let's get up, they're almost done and I need to get them some water."

Marcus was that one guy that hits on you and gets offended when you don't even look at him. But he keeps trying, trying again, and trying again.

The other boys were fine, they joke with you, they share stories, they are teammates. Marcus was just not it for you.

"I can help you with that, let me do it." He says, pulling the cooler to the middle of the field without waiting for your answer.

Xavi waved at you to get your attention from one side of the field. You walked to him, eyes turning back to the field to find those brown eyes looking at you.

"Hola, papi." You say, smiling at him. "Do you want some water?"

"I'm fine, reina." He smiles back. "Hey, meet me in my office after practice. I need to talk to you."

You nod. Not thinking much of it. He always had this mysterious behavior about talks, and in the end, it was him asking you to make a reservation at some restaurant or asking you how to send a link to Oscar.

You walked back to the team, Marcus was chatting with Raphinha, leaving the cooler abandoned.

You can't help but exhale exasperated. He was acting like he was everyone's boss. The boys tolerated it, but you didn't have to.

"Oye! I forgot to give my bottle back." You heard, making you turn. "Sorry, I was chatting."

"It's okay, are you done?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask if you have more. I threw half at Pedri." He laughs.

You laugh with him, Ferran was so comic to you. He always messed with other players. Specifically with Pedri, to the point of them not being called out when he did something to him.

"I think we have some extras." You say, checking the cooler and handing him a new bottle. "Just don't shower anymore players."

Ferran was about to answer, but a very entitled Marcus walked by and rudely asked if he was finished.

"She's waiting for me, don't worry." He says in this particular tone that makes you smirk. Marcus just shrugs and leaves. Walking down the stairs. "Is he always like that?"

"Sometimes, I think he thinks that just because he named himself the boss he actually is."

"So we don't like him?" He asks, eyebrow lifted.

"We did, but I don't think we do anymore."

"We good then." He says, making this funny expression. "Thank you. By the way, what flowers are your favorites?"

You were taken aback by the question.

"I think I don't have a favorite set of flowers." You say, thinking about an answer. "I like lilies, but they're not my favorite tho"

"Okay, good to know." He nods. "I have to get back, thanks for the water." He hands you the bottle and runs to where Pedri is.

You can't help the little smile that creeps your face. He was bringing you flowers.

You spend the rest of the training with your eyes sticked to him. The little smiles he sends you and the way Ferran notices and mock him.

When you finish with them, you decide to walk to the little room the club gives to interns. You feel the effects of the new weather coming.

"Why are you here alone?" Marcus asked you. "If you don't have anything to do, I can find something for you to do."

"No need, I have to help Misted Xavi with something." You close your little locker, trying to walk out of the room.

He grabs your arm, stopping you from walking out. "I was thinking, maybe we can hang out some time."

You kindly removed his hand from your arm, smiling so you don't seem rude. "I'm going to be honest with you." You sigh, knowing this was going to be uncomfortable. "I'm not interested. You're not my type. And no, I don't want to create a friendship with you."

The way the smirk he had is now erased from his face, making you want to laugh. Not to be mean, but he was that kind of dude that believed he was above everyone and everything.

Walking out and to your fathers' office, happy about finally letting your feelings out about the whole Marcus situation.

"Well, hello, Mister Xavi." You say, opening the door. Oscar and him are sitting on the couch of his office, Xavi with his head on his hands. "What's wrong?"

They look at each other, but Oscar decided to speak. "Nothing, we wanted to tell you that you can go home early."

You narrow your eyes, that was not something your father was used to do, having a free day? An early out? Noup.

"Papi, are you okay?" you ask, just to make sure you're good to actually go.

"Si, go before I change my mind." he half smiles. "and pick some milk on your way home". He throws the car keys on your way.

"Yes sir, see you later."

You walk fast to your locker, happy that you can leave early. You tell two of the boys that you were let go for the day and said your goodbye to Martina.

You were too busy on your phone to notice Carlos getting something inside his car trunk.

You open the car, sliding into the seat and picking a Playlist. Three bangs on the glass made you let your phone go.

You pull the window down, finding a very smiley Carlos. "Is the Uber available?"

You smile, hand on your chest to calm your heart. "Hola, what do you mean uber? You gave me a ride to the mall the other day." You joke with him.

He became your friend, he was funny and very respectful. He even shares his snacks with you. "Dude, I love your car." He takes a look at the car. "Can I drive it?"

You laugh, knowing you barely even drive it because your dad takes care of it more than he takes care of you.

"Maybe later, I have to go. I got let go."

"You got fired?" He asks, not understanding what you meant.

"No, I mean, I'm going home early. Don't throw me out just yet." You laugh. "Have fun, and don't listen to Marcus."

"I won't, drive safe." He waves as he walks away.

🪷🪷🪷

"Should I wear this or this?" You ask Nuria. She was helping you with your hair. "Or maybe another color?"

She laughs, noticing how nervous you are. "Can you calm down? You will look beautiful and this mystery guy will fall on his knees." She pats your shoulders.

"I just haven't had a date in so long. I'm rusty." You joke, changing your outfit in the closet while she organized your hair tools. "Okay, opinions." You say showing her your full outfit.

She takes your hand, making you turn. "Hermosa." She hugs you. "Maybe to make it a little casual some white sneakers?" She suggests.

You agree with her. Talking while putting your shoes on. You take a last look on your makeup and hair.

"Can you tell me who the guy is? That way, I won't be nervous about you out with a stanger." She smiles, passing you your jacket. "Or can you share your location with me? I won't tell."

"I'll share the location." You say, grabbing your phone to do it. "Plus, I'm taking your car, so if the date goes downhill, I'll come back."

"Take care, and please call me if anything. Also, don't hesitate to use the pepper spray I bought you. And have fun." She rambles, making you laugh.

You sent her a kiss as you walked out the door. You texted Pedri that you were on your way, and he texted back saying he was almost there.

You were nervous about the date, not because of Pedri but because you were scared of messing up. Plus, he didn't know who you really are.

You park, walking to the host and telling her Pedri's second last name, he uses that name yo avoid people finding he's there. Even tho you'll only need to know the barca team and recognize him.

"Hola." You say, hands on his shoulders. He jumped a little. "Sorry, didn't meant to scare you."

"You didn't, hola." He hugs you, turning to grab the bouquet of flowers. "This is for you. Hope you like them."

Lilies.

Just like you told Ferran.

"Thank you, this is so cute." You smile. When you grab the back of the chair to move it. He does it for you. "Gracias, Pedri." You smile at him.

"You look preciosa." He thinks outloud. When he notice the blush on your cheeks and how you are avoiding his gaze. It's when he notice he said that and not only thought it.

"I like your hair today, I like it when you don't blow dry it." You joke with him.

You two joke a little, ordering some food. He recommended you a dish a d a drink, you let him do the ordering.

"This is so good."

"I knew you would like it." He smiles. "How is your dish?"

"Delicious, want a bite?" You ask, and before he could answer you, you grab some of it with your fork. "Open your mouth."

"Fuaa." He says, head thrown back. "That's great. Taste mine."

He repeats your action, feeding you with his food for you to taste it. "Yummy." You smile.

You two talk a about your hobbies, your music taste. Random things you would talk about, nothing crazy.

"And my parents have a restaurant, so mom cooked the croquettes for me all the time." He tells you the story of his favorite food. "And now I miss it cause I want it but I can't have it like I used to."

"I never had croquettes in my life." You confess. "I like seafood. In Brazil, I used to eat a lot of shrimp and fish. Loveeeee fish."

"Why did you come back?" He asks. "Or are you from there?"

"I was born here, actually." You began the story. "But my parents separated when I was seven, and my mom took us to Brazil two years later."

"So you spent most of your life in Brazil?"

"It's complicated. My dad and mom got into a custody battle, and I was with her from nine to fifteen. Then I was forced to come back but only for a few months cause I was sent to a boarding school in Switzerland."

"And how did you end as a intern imfor Barça?"

"My dad forced me. He was teaching me a lesson. And he knows Martina, so it was easy."

"Oh." He says. He was speechless at how crazy your life sounds. "If I can say something, I'm glad you are here."

You smile, "Thank you, I'm happy I'm back, and I'm happy to be here with you."

It's his time to blush. He really likes you. Without Ferran's encouragement, he would have never asked you out. He was nervous and awkward about it.

"Do you want dessert?" He asks, noticing you finish your drink. "Other drink?"

"You want me full tonight, sir." You laugh, making him laugh. "I'll have some if you do."

"You are making me break my diet." He laughs. "Fine, let's get those desserts."

The rest of the dinner was fine. You two had fun talking and telling stories of things that happened to you as kids.

"Are you sure you don't want to split the bill?" You ask one more time.

"Not at all, it's on me, you did your part whe you got pretty for this." He smiles.

The blush that creeps into your cheeks is crazy. You can feel your whole face burning up from the feeling.

"Did you drive here?"

"Yes, don't worry. Thank you very much for this." You hug him. "Can we do this again? I really want to see you again."

He's taken aback from your honesty. He likes that. "Si, I want that too." He smiles. "Do you like going to the movies?"

"Love doing that."

"Want to go to the movies to see this new Ryan Gosling movie?" He walks you to your car.

"Si, text me the details." You hug him again. "Popcorn is on me," you say, kissing his cheek. You enter your car. He was kinda petrifie. Hee wanted to react. "Pedri," you call him.

He comes back to the real world. "Si, bonita?"

"Tell me when you are home." You say, pulling up your window.

He waited to be in his car to freak out about how you kissed his cheek and how you asked him on a second date.

He drives home happy, ready to call Ferran and tell him all about it. How you liked the lilies, how you enjoyed food, and how you even have a second date.

When you got home, Nuria and you went to your room and you told her everything, showed her your bouquet of flowers and even told her that you have a second date with him.

🪷🪷🪷

Your situationship with Pedri was better than you expected. It's been an ongoing this for a few months now. It's the perfect time to get to know him and for him to get to know you.

You two meet up after club hours. You even began going to some of the games to support him.

As a joke, Ferran gave you a shirt with his number. Making you and Pedri laugh. You use it because it makes Pedri smile every time he watches you there, knowing you follow Ferran and his crazy idea.

Carlos knows about you and Pedri. He's your friend, you trusted him with the information and he asked you in exchange a bag of gummy bears to not tell.

He wears Pedris number for you. And he became friends with Pedri and Ferran. You four are like a nice group.

You were organizing the water closet with Carlos. Talking about music and about this new show that he's seeing.

"And this girl, she's the starting." He explains. "She has a secret romance with one of the higher-ups. Just like you." He pokes you.

"Want me to give you a speaker so you can say it louder?" You hit his arm lightly.

"Are you going on a date with him tonight?"

"I am. We are going to watch something, probably."

"If you watch the movie I recommend you. Please do a review without spoilers for me tomorrow." He says, passing you a bottle of Gatorade.

Marcus was hearing the conversation. Martina sent him to grab you for a quick meeting. But he couldn't help but hear your conversation.

"Are you coming to the game this weekend?" You ask. "He wants me here, and I don't want to be alone."

"Are you getting me popcorn?"

"Yes." You say, laughing and rolling your eyes. "I dont know if I'm nervous because this game can get us La Liga or because his family may be there."

"Maybe both?"

"Si, maybe both." You say, finishing with the work. "We are done."

Marcus hears this and walks like he just got there.

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt. Martina wants us to have a quick meeting." He smiles. "I thought you were organizing the equipment."

"No, we are here today." Carlos answers. "Let's go."

Marcus was curious. Who was the person you were "dating." Probably someone married if you are talking about his family being there.

After the meeting, you got a text from your dad, asking you to come to his office to talk about something.

"Hola pare, em necessitaves?" (Hi dad, did you need me?) You speak to him in catalan.

"Hola, Reina." He hugs you. "How's work?"

"Good, I restocked the water closet. We have fresh water bottles. And I had a meeting about a thing Martina wants us to do."

"Great, that's fine."

You squinted your eyes. He was up to something. "Dad, anything you want to ask me or tell me?"

He rolls his eyes. "Can't a father make conversation with his firstborn?"

"Xavier?"

"Promise me you won't be mad at Asia."

You know what is coming. You heavily exhale. "Go on."

"A little bird, named Asia. Told me you are dating someone."

"Dad, this is work." You laugh. "Plus, I'm not."

You were honest, Pedri, and you weren't dating. You were acquaintances who happened to enjoy each others company.

"Okay." He laughs. "We can play the we are at work thing."

You don't notice how the door is open, thinking everybody is doing something more important than walking around.

But Marcus wasn't. He was walking around trying to find Oscar to talk to him about being able to go to the game for free as a part of the club workers. But when he heard your voice and Xavi's, he stayed.

"I wanted to tell you this when we were at dinner, but I feel like I can do it. I'm going to the game." You tell him.

Your dad loves it when you come to his games. It makes him think of you as a little girl wearing his jersey.

"Nuria and the kids are coming too."

"The kids too?" You ask, confused. "Don't they have to go with their grandparents?"

Marcus raises his eyebrows. His wife and kids are coming. You and him will have dinner together.

Then it clicks, you were talking about Xavi. And Carlos knew about you and him.

"Anyways, I have to go." You say, getting up and walking to his mini fridge. "I'm taking one of your special drinks. After all, I earn it."

You two laugh, you hug your father. "Back to work. I don't want my father to find out I'm not working." You joke.

"I'm sure he won't mind. You are with the Mister, he will understand."

"Yeah, you don't know him." You tease him. "But you'll like him, maybe we can arrange a meeting, sir."

"Go to work, reina." He laughs, shaking his head while he does it.

Marcus hides in an office, waiting a few minutes before going out. He was mind blowned, you were having something with Xavi.

He walks back to the comune corridors. Not paying attention to his surroundings, the only thing in his mind was this new information.

For you, it was all flowers, dreams, happy days.

You get to see the person you like every day, you get to spend at least a little bit of time with him.

"Stop, you need to train." You say to pedri, who's too busy kissing you and hugging you. "Pepi, stop it." You giggle.

"Why?" He pouts. "One more, and I'm leaving."

"No, guapo." You try to push him. But he brings you back to him. "You are going to be late." You say.

He grabs your cheeks, kissing you goodbye. You hug his body. Loving the way this feels. The way his lips dance with yours and the way your tongues mix just makes sense.

When he separates to take air, you place your hand on top of his mouth. Blocking him from kissing you again.

"You have to go." You whisper breathlessly. "The Mister will be mad at you."

He kisses the top of your forehead. Eying the clock on the wall. He really needs to go. "I'll see you tonight?" You nod, still catching your breath. "Okay, I'll see you then" He kiss your cheek and pulls away.

You wait a few minutes before coming out of where you two were hiding. Walking to the interns room.

Marcus was there. He eyed you from head to toes. "Hello." You say. He only smiled. He still had a bone to pick with you from the way you rejected him.

"So, are you coming to the game?" He asks.

"Yeah, I got tickets. Are you?"

"Don't know, still deciding."

You nod, not wanting to keep the conversation. You walk over and find Carlos waiting with the coolers with you.

"Can you be more late?" He plays with you.

"Shut up and work bitch." You joke.

"Hmmm." He shakes his head. "Says the one who was tonguing her boyfriend on the janitors closet."

"I hate you." You side eye him. He laughs and walks away with a cooler. "And he's not my boyfriend." You whisper to him as you enter the field.

"Okay." He pauses, thinking. "Your fuck buddy?"

"He's not my-" You hit his arm. "He's not my fuck buddy." You whisper.

"So you haven't fuck him?"

You blush at the question. You did sleep with him, but he wasn't your fuck buddy or anything like that.

"So you did fuck him." Carlos laughed. "If he is not your boyfriend then you are fuck buddies until he asks you out formally."

You stayed quiet for the duration of the training. Until it was time to offer the guys some water. Carlos was right. He wasn't your boyfriend, but you were having sex and doing things couples do.

"Let's go."

You walk over to the guys with the vest. It was easy that way, since they all stayed together to plan a strategy.

You are thinking still. They players are grabbing their waters and talking to themselves. You turn your head to the other part of the team.

Pedri was looking at you, you smile at him. Ferran sees this and decides to tease him. The others think it is just him playing, but it was more than that.

"Distracted much?" Raphinha asks, smiling at you. "You okay?"

You nod. "Just thinking." You say honestly.

"Don't tire your mind." Lewandowski says.

"Easy for you to say, you can take your thoughts away by playing."

"A piece of advice, if it can be solved then you don't have to worry about it. Think about how you are going to solve it and do it."

"And if it doesn't have a solution?" You ask Lewa.

"Then don't think about it." He smiles again. "If you can fix it, learn from it and move on."

You nod, thanking him for the advice. "More water before I go?" You ask, hearing Oscar blow the whistle.

"Noup." He throws the bottle back into the cooler.

You go on with the day, not thinking much of the situation. It has a solution, and you can resolve it.

You sit next to your dad for dinner. Texting pedri carefully that as soon as dinner is over, you will meet him up.

"I can't wait to see you at the game. I have a good feeling about it."

You smile, letting him and Nuria do the talking. You eat some pieces of your food, feeling nauseous and tired.

"What's going on with you?" Xavi asks. "You are not the type to leave food."

Before you answer, Asia decides to intervene. "She has the love syndrome."

Both Asia and Dan decide to make kiss noises and throw jokes at you about your love life.

"Stop it, kids." Nuria laughs. "Are you okay?"

"Si." You nod. "Just tired. Maybe I'm coming with a cold." You lie.

"Then take a seat next to the dog because I don't want to get a cold too." You dad jokes. Getting up to take his plate to the sink.

You roll your eyes. "Can I use your car? I want to visit Karlie." You lie again.

"No drinking and driving." He says, stern tone. "Please don't come back at like three in the morning." He throws the keys at you.

You nod, taking your plate to the sink and going upstairs to brush your teeth. You fix your hair before going back down. "Bye, I'll be here in a bit."

You arrive at his house. You two meet up there because you haven't revealed that your father is Xavi Hernández.

He kisses you hello and takes you to his room. He has some candy and Amazon Prime open for you to pick any movie you want.

The movie goes unnoticed by you. The words of Carlos and Lewandowski are taking all your mind. You grab the controller, pausing the movie.

"What are we?" You ask, very straightforward.

Pedri chokes on his gummy bear. "Qué?"

"What are we?" You repeat. Louder this time.

He's trying to think about what to say. He doesn't even know what you two are. You have no labels.

"Are we just fuck-buddies?" You ask.

"No." He quickly answers. "You are more than just that." He says.

"What more?"

He tries to find the right words. He doesn't want you to feel scared if he confesses all his feelings for you.

And he also doesn't want to run when maybe you want to walk. He wants to make you feel comfortable.

"I want us to be more than just friends." He says.

"We are." You say, serious tone. "We fuck, we kiss, we cuddle in bed while we watch a movie, you introduce me to your brother."

"Listen, Y/n." He sits. "I want more than that. I just thought that maybe you would be more comfortable like that."

"Why?"

"Huh?" He's confused. What do you mean why?

"Why did you think that?"

"I'm a footballer." He spat. "And to be honest, a Google search will show you that the media thinks I'm a fucking womanizer. Girls here and there when, in reality, I don't even go out to get groceries."

You smirk at that. He was a very home orienteded guy. "I don't believe in rumors, I believe you."

"And I'm happy about it." He grabs your hand and kisses it. "I like you a lot. You are not just someone I have sex with and then leave. I do want more."

You grab his face, kissing him. You wanted more than just friendship too. You wanted to move forward with the relationship.

"Ask me then." You smile.

He laughs, if there's something he loves about you is how straightforward you are. You are not afraid of saying anything.

"Y/n, preciosa mía." His arms hug your waist. "Will you honor me by letting me be your boyfriend?" He smiles, eyes shining.

You smile too, watching every detail about his face, the way his smile is reaching his eyes, the way his hair looks, the way he smells.

"Let me think about it." You joke, making him pull you down to the bed with him.

"Preciosa, venga, no bromees." He kiss you.

"I will honor you." You say, smiling like crazy. "I really like you too, and I'm happy right now." You laugh, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him.

You two spend the rest of the movie like that, kissing here and there, paying more attention to each other than to the movie.

"Wear my jersey to the game." He requests. "I want my girlfriend to wear my number on her back. It will be like a motivation."

You nod, smiling at him. You were planning on wearing it anyway. You wanted him to notice how much support he has on you.

You checked the time, it was past midnight. "I have to go. My dad will be pissed if I don't."

"No." He hugs you, getting on top of you. "Stay here."

You laugh. "Pepi, if I don't get home as soon as possible, I don't think I'll be allowed to go to the game anymore."

He sighs, kissing you quickly before letting go. He walks with you to your car. "Call me when you are home and drive safe."

"I always do." You say cocky, making him smile. His head gets in the car for him to be able to kiss you. "Adiós."

🪷🪷🪷

The game wasn't as good as you expected. The team lost, and with the loss, they gave Real Madrid the Liga trophy. Now there's only hopes for the second place.

Xavi was mad, you can tell by the look on his face and how he stormed out to the dressing room.

You knew this was a bad moment to the players. They all look sad and stressed. But you can't blame Xavi. They don't even work as a team anymore.

Carlos and you walk into the tunnel. You had access to those areas due to the security guys recognizing you from working there.

You wanted to wait to at least talk to Pedri, check if he's fine in person, and not over text. "I'll wait here. If you want to you can go."

"Okay, see you tomorrow then." You kiss his cheek goodbye.

You sat in one of the benches at the corridor. Checking your phone to see what people are saying on X.

You feel angry at how people blame your father. He wishes to be able to go into the field and play for them but he can't.

After all, he was a barça legend, and they are just teenagers and adults acting like five years old who can't make a team with the others.

Goundogan and Araujo fighting. Ter Stegen is saying Xavi doesn't need to call out players after losing a game. It was a shit show.

You heard the dressing room opening. Your father walks mad, his belongings in hand. You stand up and try to talk with him.

"Not right now." He says, deep mad voice.

You only nodded, taking a seat at the bench again. You want to do more, but you can't even begin expressing how much you this situation hurts you.

Some of the players began leaving. Some waving goodbye to you. Thinking you are there as a job and not just to watch the match.

Ferran walks out, head low and earphones in. You grab his shoulder. "Hey." You say even tho he can't hear you.

He takes his earphones out to greet you. "Hey." He sighs. "What a shit show, isn't it?" He laughs.

"It's okay, it's just a bad moment." You hug him and say goodbye to him.

"Pedri is inside, he's taking a shower."

You text him telling him that you were waiting for him. You walk to the interns room to pick something from your locker.

After all, that was one of the only rooms that didn't have a lock. You walk and see Marcus and Raphinha talking.

They both look at you, but Raphinha's gaze was a weird one. You can't pick it. Maybe it was his humor after the lost.

"I just want something from my locker." You walk quick and open it. "Sorry about the lost, Raph." You say, pulling the item and closing the locker door. "Bye."

Pedri texted you to meet him at the parking lot. He was out of the dressing room and walking over there.

You do as he told you. Meeting him there. He was inside his car, doing something on his phone.

You knock on his window. He opens the passenger seat door for you. "Hola." You whisper, not sure how to approach him.

"Xavi told us he's leaving." He confess. "And my family couldn't come."

"Pepi." You sigh. Hugging him and kissing his cheek. "I'm so sorry about today. If it makes you feel better, I think you played better than anyone else." You kiss his nose. Making him smile.

"Thank you for being here." He poses his head on your shoulder. "Want to go get something to eat? I feel like having something bad." He laughs.

"Whatever you want, guapo." You kiss him. Hands squishing his cheeks. "Let's go."

Yourusername has added to her story

"I feel like this season is just too much for us." He says, eating his fries. "We are falling apart."

"The whole Ronald and Gundo thing is just dumb, I will take Gundo's advice. He was in ManCity and they are champions."

"But I can't blame him. Maybe the delivery wasn't the best." He says, thinking about the situation. "And I think Xavi and Oscar weren't doing their best."

"What are they doing wrong?" You ask curious. He was one of the few playes that did what Xavi and Oscar asked him to do. "I mean for what I see at the training, he is giving instruction, explaining how to create opportunities and then at the game Lewandowski and Raphinha do the opposite."

Pedri wasn't surprised at your football talk, he find it amazing when you first gave him advice, and now he asks for feedback.

"You have the most assists this season of La Liga, and the majority of those were lost opportunities. At this point, the only thing that can save you guys is if Oscar and Xavi get in the field with you during the games."

"Bueno, if you put it like that, then yes." He scratched his head. "That water job of yours is giving you too much to fight me for." He laughs

"It's not my fault I can take the instructions better than your teammates." You laugh back. "But I know Xavi thinks you are one of the best elements of the team." You say, head over his shoulder.

You weren't lying. Your father was happy with him, maybe wanting to correct little things, but seeing the big picture, he was the perfect successor of Andres."

"I'll believe you." He kisses you. "Want me to drop you home?" He says, finishing his meal.

"My stepmother will pick me up from your home, she's just a few blocks away."

You still have to tell Pedri about your dad. When he told you that Xavi announced the possibility of leaving, you already knew.

He talked about it with Nuria and your siblings. Letting you know before anyone else, LaPorta, the players, the press.

"Why do I feel like you don't want me to know where you live?" He asks, curious about why his house was the only place you two meet.

"I do, it's just complicated."

"You dad doesn't know we are together?"

"He knows I'm with someone, but right now, he's dealing with work issues." You didn't lie. He was. Pedri knows but he doesn't know he knows.

"Okay, I trust you." He says, resting his hand on your thigh.

You texted Nuria, letting her know that you will be at his place in about five minutes, for her to pick you up.

Just like Pedri, Nuria didn't know the reality of your relationship. She thinks he is someone you met around, maybe at a party. Not a player from your father's team.

When you get the text saying she's outside, you stand up, ready to leave. "She's here, adiós, guapo."

But he has other plans. He stood up, grabbed your wrist and walked to the door with you.

"I want to say hi." He says. Walking hand in hand with you, happy to be able to meet someone from your life.

You stop, he will recognize Nuria if he sees her. "Pedri, no." You pull him to you before he reaches the door. "My stepmother is kinda delicate."

"Y/n, be honest." He frowns. "Tell me if you don't want me to meet your family. You know my brother and I want you to know my parents."

You think for a moment, you do want him to meet Nuria and your father. Not like his trainer, just as your father.

"The thing is, I'm planning a dinner with my family and you. And I want it to be perfect and for you to meet them calmly and not at the street."

"You promise is that?" He pouts.

"Let's do this. You have three days off for the next match that is on Friday. Let's do the dinner on Saturday so you don't stress about the game. Deal?"

He smiles, nodding excited about the idea. "Deal." He says, hugging you. "I was so scared of you being embarrassed of me or something."

"What?" You laugh. "Eres tan tonto, it's not that. You know that now."

He nods. Kissing your lips. "Go, she will get mad from waiting."

You kiss him again. Telling him a quick goodbye. When you get to the car, Nuria is watching you all smiles.

"What?" You ask her.

"Nothing I just love seeing you so happy, I'm a fan." She laughs, making you laugh. "I need you to tell me when are we meeting him."

"You are lucky, I invite him on Saturday, so your job is to keep my dad happy." You joke.

"Well, I have all morning to make him feel less angry if the game goes downhill."

"Let's hope it doesn't." You beg.

🪷🪷🪷

You can't deny you will miss working at the club when the season is done. You learned to like the job and you have fun with the guys, even with Marcus.

"I'm going to miss organizing this and stealing Gatorade." Carlos says. Drinking the last bit of the drink.

"Can't you get one at the store?" You joke.

"It will not be free. Duh!"

"You want to know what else is free?" You ask. When he nods you get close to him. "Our labor here." You whisper.

He laughs so hard that some of the players that are walking past to the camp turn to see you. "I want to know the joke, tio." Sergi jokes. "Also, if you can pack a purple Gatorade, I'll really appreciate it."

You pass the training talking about random things. Pedri was looking at you from time to time.

He told you how a little anxious about meeting your family. You were too, you hoped he would understand your reasoning.

"I don't know how you two haven't been caught. He can't keep his eyes away from you." He says, noticing how the canary looks at you every five seconds. "But to be honest, when we first started every player was looking at you."

"Maybe that's why they don't allow female interns." You laugh.

You finish the training between jokes. The few last trainings were always the best. The vacation spirit was hitting the players.

You returned both coolers. When you were about to leave, you saw Raphinha reclined into the doorfr. "Hello to you too, kitty girl."

"Hola." You say. "Do you want something?"

"Can't a man just get a talk?" He jokes.

You nod. "How are you?"

"I can be better." He walks closer, maybe a little too much for your liking. "I want to ask you something." When you don't answer, he decides to keep talking. "I got told a little story about you. And I'm interested in it."

You narrow your eyes, nodding your head to indicate him continue with the story.

"I know how hard it must be to work as hard as you do, with all this ahit show, organizing stupid bottles. Look, I don't blame you for what you do here. But someone as pretty as you can get better things from someone like me. No need to fuck old flesh for some cash." He says, posing his hands on your waist.

You push him away, "What the fuck are you even implying?" You have a stern tone. "Don't ever touch me again. You are disgusting."

"Such a prude now, huh?" He laughs. "We all know what you do. It's no secret. I'm just taking my chances to be the next one in line." He tries to get closer again. "I can fuck you better than him, let's be honest."

Your hand hurts from how hard you hit his cheek. Making his face turn. "Você é uma pessoa nojenta, fique longe de mim." (You are such a disgusting person, get away from me), you say, pushing him to get out of the room.

His hand grabs your arm. Pulling you back. "Você age como uma puritana, mas você é uma prostituta." (You act like a prude but you're a whore)

"You have a wife and a child." You remind him. "And you are here accusing me of something I don't even know about. You are disgusting."

"I'm not the one fucking someone from the club." He laughs. "You are."

"I held your son while Natalia, your wife, was using the bathroom. She was telling everybody how happy she was that she was visiting. And you act as if she's nothing. You dont deserve her." You say, taking his hands off of your body, "I'm telling you this only once. So you better listen. Don't mess with me because I'm not the one. You have no idea the kind of power I have. Stay away from me, or I'm telling everybody what you did."

He lifts his hands. Looking at you with a mad stare. You feel like crying, but you won't in front of him. "Move, deixe-me ir." (Let me go)

He moves to the side. You run, wanting to go home. You go to the interns room, searching for you things in your locker.

Your hands are shaking. You can't even get the key into the lock. Three knocks on the door got unnoticed by you.

"Hey, Y/n?" You heard Ferran's voice. "Are you okay?"

He walks over to you, and he places his hands on your arm and back, but you back up. "Don't touch me." You shout at him, moving away from his touch.

You don't mean to do it, but you can't even think straight. "It's okay, deep breaths." He says, hands motioning you to take a breath. "Yeah, that's it. Do it again." He says, he backs a little from where you are.

You take a few breaths, feeling yourself calming down. You hated the feeling of being uncappable of defending yourself.

"That's it." Ferran cheers you. "Here, I have a napkin on me. Don't ask." He hands you the napkin. You smile at his joke.

"I'm sorry for shouting." You say, voice shaking. "I just, I want to go home." You whisper, feeling the tears fill your eyes.

"Can I come closer and give you a hug?" He asks, you nod. He hugs you, one hand on your shoulders and the other on your head, pushing it against his chest. "I don't know what happened, but if you need a friend. I'm here."

You hug him back. You really needed a hug. "Gracias." You say, "Where did you get the napkin, tho?"

"I hide a cookie." He confess. That makes you laugh a little. "Hey, you laughed."

You separate from him. "Thank you, Ferran." You smile. He asked you for the key to the locker, opening the lock for you.

You grab your things. And he locked it again. "Do you need want to go? I can call you an Uber, I don't have my phone but it's in the dressing room. In my station."

You smile. Shaking your head. "I just need to find Martina and tell her I'm leaving." You say, walking to out of the door with him. "Hey, you wanted something. Can I help you before I leave?"

Ferran feels sad. You grow a friendship with him. You are someone very calm, and he can tell something might have happened for you to react the way you did.

"Don't be silly. Let's find Martina."

"It's okay, I know where she is. Thank you for helping me. I'll go by myself."

"You sure?"

You nod, giving him one last hug. "Bye."

You walk to the office where Martina is, she's always there with the social media manager. You knock to see if she was there.

"Come in."

You open the door, finding Raphinha talking with her. Both of them laughing and joking about something.

"Hey, is everything alright?" She asks when she sees your red face. "What happened?"

You lock eyes with Raphinha, he has a smirk, like if the situation was funny to him. You want to grab your bag and hit him.

"Si, I just want to know if I can leave early. I don't feel well and I want to go home."

"Oh honey, is there something I can help you with?"

"Si, can we help you?" He asks.

"It's just an allergy reaction, and I feel like I should probably rest a little." You lie, looking at Raphinha while doing it with a disgusted face.

"Go home and rest, if you want to, don't come tomorrow. I have those reactions, too, and it's the worst."

"Will do, thank you for understanding. Goodbye." You wave at her, walking outside the door, but you turn to say something."Oh, Raphinha."

"Si?"

"Lembre-se do que eu lhe disse. Fique longe de mim." (Remember what I told you. Stay away from me.) You smile. "Been practicing my Portuguese." You say to Martina, who smiles at you, not understanding anything you just said.

You went home, thankful that Nuria was out at an event, and you can cry in peace in your room. You turn your phone off, not wanting to deal with anything and just staying in bed until you have the strength to get up.

Ferran told Pedri what happened, the way he found you. He called you five times and texted you another few more. But nothing. You were mia.

He spent the rest of training worried about you. He wanted to know what happened for you to be crying and left early.

Once he's home, he can concentrate on anything, checking his phone every minute to see if the message was delivered.

That's when he remembered, you sent him over text your address for the dinner with your parents. Telling him that you did it because later on, you would forget.

He grabs his keys and drives over to your house. He didn't care if he looked imprudent. He needed to make sure you were okay.

"Y/n, are you sure you don't want to talk?" Nuria asks again. She can't help but wonder why your eyes were puffy and you were sad. "I won't tell."

"It's nothing." You answer. "I'm just taking a shower, just in time to eat dinner with you. Deal?"

"Okay, if you need me, I'm here." She hugs you. "I'm going to get some takeout, I feel like that will make you feel better."

You nod, thanking her and closing your bathroom door and taking a very hot shower. You needed that. You bring your alexa to the bathroom and ask her to play something while you shower.

Pedri was impatient, the traffic was making him bounce his knee. He wanted to be able to just drive over all these people.

He tries to call you one more time, with no answer. Your phone was still off. He wanted to know if you were okay. Just that.

"Y/n?" Asia asks, knocking on your door. "When mom returns, we will make your favorite brownies to make you feel better."

You smile, you know they want you to be okay no matter what happened. "Thank you, A. I'll help you. Just let me change, and I'll go to the kitchen."

You change into some bikers and a plain shirt. Or as you like to call it, your lazy outfit. You dry your hair, not wanting to deal with the freez later.

While your blow dryer is on and alexa is playing something in the bathroom. Xavi and Nuria got home.

"Marcela told me that it was an allergic reaction. That's what she said."

"I think there's more. Plus, she looks fine, not a single red mark on her face from allergies. Maybe talk to her later."

You finish with your hair. You wait for Nuria to be back or call you to go down. You charge your phone even though it's off.

You put your hair in a ponytail, completing the lazy look with your sleepers from a hotel that you went to a few years ago.

While you wait in your bed, Pedri drives into the community where you live, the security guy recognized him and asked for a photo.

He let him go past the gate since he was a known person. Thing that makes him laugh. He follows the gps to your street.

He parks in front of what he thinks is the right house. He walks over to the door and ring the doorbell.

"Xavi, please open the door. I'll go get the kids." Nuria says, walking upstairs.

Xavi walks to the door. When he opens it, he finds Pedri. "Pedri, tío. What are you doing here?"

Pedri is as confused as his trainer. He doesn't understand what happened and how he ended at Xavi's house.

"Hey, Mister. I think I got my gps confused. But it's nice to see you. Sorry about the press thing today. We were all confused and mad."

"It's okay, you guys worry too much about me." He laughs. "Venga, come inside." He moves for the midfielder to get in. "Are you hungry? We are about to eat."

"I don't mean to bother." He smiles. "I think when Lewandowski sent us the address to your home for lunch, it got overlapped with the one I was looking for."

"Happens to me all the time." He laughs, making Pedri laugh. "But you don't bother, honestly. Have some dinner with us."

Pedri agrees. He thinks this is a bad coincidence, but he will use it to maybe talk with Xavi before he leaves. Thank him for everything.

"Pedri, this is Nuria, my wife." He introduces him to his wife. "Nuria, this is Pedri. He's number eight. A good kid. I invited him over."

"Hola, that's so great. Please take a seat. Our kids will be with us in a moment."

"I'm sorry about coming without notice. I got the address wrong. I was looking for someone who lives in the same neighborhood."

The sound of children interrupts the talk. "Mom, did you get the brownie stuff?"

"Asia, come here, baby. This is Pedri. He is a football player at the club." The little girl waves.

"Do you work with dad?"

"I do." He smiles. "He's the best, you are lucky yo have such an amazing dad."

"He's cool." She says, looking at xavi. But he's not allowed to make brownies with us. He burns them."

"Are you making brownies?" Pedri asks. Trying to make conversation with her. "That's yummy."

"Yes, it's for my sister. She's feeling blue."

"That means you are a very nice sister. I have a brother named Fernando. When I'm blue, he hits me in the head." He makes the little girl laugh.

"My other two are somewhere in the house." Xavi explains. "Actually, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"My oldest is twenty. Almost the same." He passes the plate to Pedri. "You probably recognize her. She's helping at the club."

"Really?" He asks, confused. "Didn't know that."

The laughs of a boy can be heard. Pedri is trying to remember if he knows who Xavi's daughter is.

"Reina, come here." Xavi says, waving you to come over.

You have your brother in your arms, laughing with him. "Yes, sir?" You ask, laughing.

Pedri feels how his body tenses at the sound of your voice. And you stop laughing once you see him sitting at the table.

"Pedri, this is Y/n and Dan. She works as an intern. She helped us with the water and stuff. "Y/n, I think you already know Pedri."

"I do." You say, putting your brother down, your eyes never leaving his. "Hi, Pedri."

"We know Pedri, he plays for barça." Dan says, making Pedri smile at him.

"Well, everybody got food. Let's sit down and eat." Nuria says, leaving the salad on the table. "Hey, you feeling better?"

You nod at her question. You wanted Pedri to find out about your dad but not like this. Not after the day you have.

"Y/n, take a seat." Asia asks

The only plate left was in the seat next to Pedri. You sit down, he looks at you. You are not sure what the emotions his eyes are showing are.

Xavi asks Pedri different things, talking about his family. He met Pedri's parents during one celebration at the club.

"So you two know each other?" Nuria asks Pedri and you.

You look over at him. "We do." You answer. You can see his smile. "When I got to the club, he was training after an injury, and I was assigned to be the water girl for that training." You smile.

"Yes, she was very shy and weird the first day." He laughs, making you laugh. "When she got moved to the whole team, the first times she just left the cooler and moved."

"I did not." You say. "Ferran and him were throwing water at each other." You say to Nuria. "I was scared of getting wet."

"I can admit I once used her as a shield." He laughs. "It was funny."

Nuria looks between you two. The way you smile at each other and they way you look at him.

The dinner went well. Pedri and Dan clicked in a way that any other guest at your house ever did. Asia invited him to make the brownies with you. Uninviting Nuria from the equation.

"Y/n, can you help me with something?" She calls you. You were searching for the ingredient.

"Si. Dan, please help me with the ingredients, okay baby?" You gave him the list of things.

Nuria and you walk into the laundry room. "Okay, confess." She says. Looking at you with narrowed eyes.

"What?" You asks, confused about what she's talking about. "Context, please?"

"I have a theory." She began. "Is that you are overly friendly with Pedri, and you are ten times more clingy and needy with your boyfriend. Or that we are going to see Pedri again at the dinner this Saturday, but not as the Barca Player but as your boyfriend."

You stayed quiet. Your silence was all she needed to confirm it. You just blush at how obvious you were.

"I also think it's important for you to know that he didn't know until today that Xavi is my dad."

"Y/n." She says, eyes widening. "How?"

"I asked Martina to omit the fact that my last name is Hernández because I wanted to just not be Xavi's daughter for once. I wanted to be me."

"I get it, believe me." She hugs you. "Oh my God, I'm so happy, you two look amazing together."

"You think dad would flip if I tell him that he is my boyfriend and that the job he got me to keep me occupied worked, but my occupation is not only being an intern but having a boyfriend?" You ramble a little.

"Why don't you tell him now?" She asks. "He's here. He likes him, and to be honest, I don't want to get all dressed up for something we already did but didn't know we were doing."

Nuria and you debate a little about the whole telling your dad thing. She encouraged you to tell him now that he is in a good mood.

"Hey." You say, walking back into the kitchen. "Can I talk to you? Nuria will help them." You guide them to your backyard. Seating on the couch you have there for parties. "I'm sorry I was gone all day, I just had a rough day and wanted to come home."

"Something happened?" He asks, worried. "You don't usually turn your phone off and walk out of the club."

"I don't want to talk about it, don't worry. I'm better now." You smile. "I'm sorry about not being fully honest with you." You say, referring to your family situation. "I honestly thought I was getting out of that job in two weeks, but I grew a like for it."

"And you stayed." He finish your sentence. "You tend to do toxic things. Have you noticed that?"

"Eres un tonto." You say. He opens his arms to you. You fall into them and snuggle your face on his shoulder. "Don't be mad?"

"Am not, I was shocked when your dad opened the door. I thought I was going crazy and that my car gps was failing." He chuckles. "Then I see you walking as he says you are his daughter, and all I'm thinking is now it makes sense why you know so much about football."

You laugh. "And all those things I told yo about him liking you more than the rest because you listen to him? You now can actually believe me."

He hugs you tight. He was so worried all day about you. "Ferran was worried. He didn't even bother me during training."

"You are welcome." You joke. "I was thinking, maybe we can use this opportunity to tell my dad about us."

"Don't you think it's enough off a surprise that I knocked on the door without an invitation?"

You were about to answer when a voice makes you turn. It was your dad on the balcony right above where you are.

"Creo que ya me lo han dicho sin decirme, chavales." (I think you told me without telling me, kids) he shakes his head. "Pedri, not only as your trainer but as the father of the girl you are apparently with. I think it's time to go home and rest for the game."

"Si, Mister." He shyly smiles. "Thank you for the food. See you tomorrow." He separates. "See you tomorrow, Guapa." He whispers as he walks back inside the house.

"Dad, that wasn't nice."

"Bring me a brownie when they are ready, we need to have a chat." He winks at you. Going back inside.

🪷🪷🪷

The game went amazing. They won second place on La Liga. It wasn't the worst, after all. Pedri scored two goals, giving a very nice almost end of the season.

"It was a good game." Carlos says. "I'm going to miss this so much."

"Me too, I like some of the players already, and I'm going to miss seeing you steal Gatorade for the gym."

"Shhh, I can't get caught." He jokes. You walk over to the interns room. "Wait, I'll go to the bathroom. Can you pick my stuff for me?"

You nod, opening your palm so he can give you his locker key. When he does, you walk to the room. You walk inside, grabbing your bag and Carlos things.

You text Pedri congratulations, and you tell him where you are. He asked you to wait for him there. Ferran and him will meet you there.

You heard the door slam closed. You turn and see Marcus. He has this smirk on his lips. "Hey, did you enjoy the game?" You ask, going back to your phone.

"I know what you are doing." He says, sitting at the table. "You can stop pretending."

"Qué?" You ask, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard you talking with Carlos, telling him about your date, how his family was going to be there. And then I saw you walking out of that shithole, after being with him."

"Okay?" You smirk. "Why is that your concern?"

You didn't mind if he saw you and Pedri sneaking out here and there. You weren't going to hide it. Season is about to finish, and you won't be back.

"So you admit it?" He asks loudly. "I mean not that you are hiding it. Look at that Miu Miu bag. A girl like would only dream about it."

You look down at your bag. Bag that was a gift from your grandparents. "Why are you so mad if I wear designer or if I date someone from the club?" You were about to walk out, not feeling like listening to his crap.

"Raphinha was right, you act like a fucking prude but in reality you are nothing but a slut."

You turn to him. Was that what Raphinha talked to you about when he attacked you? "What did you just say?"

"And now you are deaf." He laughs.

"Is this about me rejecting your invitation?" You ask mad. Was he doing all that because you told him he wasn't your type? "Marcus, this is fucked up. Did you even know what Raphinha did to me?"

"Whatever it was, he probably paid you enough to get something nice, huh?" He says, getting closer. "Did you enjoy it?"

You back off, trying to get away from you. "Don't don't even know what you are talking about."

"You rejected me but decided to fuck a forthy year old dude?"

You don't understand nothing at this point. What he thinks you are doing. "You are confusing things, I'm not doing any of that."

"You just admitted to do it." He yells. You back a little more. "A married guy with kids, fucking slut." He yells.

You feel like you were about to start crying from the anxiety this is giving you. "I didn't do that." You yell back.

The door opens up. A frowny Ferran and Pedri walk in. Seeing the scene and how you are almost cornered up.

"What is going on?" Ferran asks. "Are you okay, Y/n?"

Pedri doesn't even care about answering questions. He walks over to you and shields you with his body.

"Back off." He warns. "No sé quien carajos te crees pero no tienes ningún derecho a gritarle, imbecil." (I don't know who te fuck you think you are but you have no right to yell at her, asshole) he's the one getting closer now, doing the same he was doing to you.

"Obviously, you two are defending her." He laughs. "Did he sucked your dicks too?"

Pedri doesn't need to hear anything else. His fist impacts Marcus. Making him fall over. "I'm not going to let you talk about her at all. You watch your fucking mouth."

Ferran grabs you by the shoulders, taking you out of the room. You don't want Pedri to get in trouble.

"Can you make sure he doesn't punch him again?" You ask Ferran. "I don't want Pedri having repercussions because of him."

Ferran nods, going back inside. You can hear Pedri yelling at Marcus. He was mad and the adrenaline from the game was giving him the attitude.

He was a calm dude. It's not easy to pass him off, let alone get physical with him. But today was Marcus lucky day because Pedri was not taking any shit.

Ferran drags Pedri out of the room. Mad face softens when his eyes lay on you. "Guapa." He hugs you. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Thank you for saving me." You kiss his collarbone. "I'm so confused about why he was yelling at me."

"He won't even dare to even come back after the break. And if he does, Ferran promised him that he would run him over."

You smile. Extending your hand to where Ferran is. He grabs your hand, and you pull him to the hug between Pedri and you.

Carlos, who is just coming back from the bathroom and sees that scene, joins without saying much.

"Why are we hugging?" He asks after a few. Making Pedri, Ferran and you laugh.

🪷🪷🪷

"Two goals, baby." You say, hugging you very sweaty boyfriend. "You did amazing. I'm so proud."

He smiles like crazy, his first goals with the national team, and you surprised him by coming to see his game.

"I played too." Ferran says, watching you and Pedro hug.

Pedro scuff. "Maybe get a girlfriend, capullo."

"Excuse me? Y/n, let me tell you that without me insisting that he asked you out, you wouldn't even be here right now." He leaves, pretending to be mad.

You laugh when you notice Pedri blushing at Ferrans confession. "Well, let's thank him." You say, kissing his lips.

"We can also thank a very straightforward girl who asked me what was the status of our relationship when we were cuddling in bed and watching a movie."

"A smart mind, in my opinion."

You two walk over to the interview side. Since he scored two goals, some news channels wanted him to give the exclusive after the game.

"I'm very proud, I can't wait for Germany." He says to the camera.

"How is your support circle? Will you have your family and friends at maybe one of the games?"

"I have amazing support, my parents, my brother, my girlfriend, my friends, and the fans who always motivate me to be better."

"Girlfriend? Wow, lucky girl. Imagine that the start of today is your boyfriend." The interviewer laughed.

Pedri locks his eyes with you. "Actually, I'm the lucky one." He says.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.

He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."

"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.

"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."

Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."

Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong. 

"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.

"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."

"Okay, but-"

"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"

You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now. 

Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."

You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head. 

"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."

"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.

"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."

"Bradley, I don't want that one either."

He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"

"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."

He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."

You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."

He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.

"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"

"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air. 

"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.

"I'm pregnant!" 

"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"

He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.

Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo." 

He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."

You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."

-----------------------

You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."

Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."

He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"

"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose. 

"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence. 

You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."

"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."

"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."

He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"

You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"

With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."

And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.

"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"

"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."

"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."

"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.

"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."

"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"

Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."

You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself. 

Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."

"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."

Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."

-----------------------------

Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day. 

But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable. 

"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."

You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."

"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"

You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.

"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."

Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."

"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."

"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."

You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers. 

"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."

As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?

He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."

"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."

"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."

You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."

------------------------------

"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"

He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."

You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.

As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."

"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."

You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"

"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."

He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."

You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs. 

"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."

You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession. 

"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley. 

He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath. 

"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"

You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."

Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum. 

"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going. 

It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.

You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.

He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"

You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch. 

"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?" 

You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."

He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"

"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.

"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."

"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."

He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back. 

"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."

"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck. 

You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.

It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."

Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."

You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly. 

"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart." 

When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked. 

He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.

"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."

You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him. 

He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"

"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."

"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."

A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.

"You can't stop touching me, can you?"

"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."

"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early. 

"What?"

Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face. 

"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.

If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up. 

"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.

"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."

--------------------------

A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Hello i have a idea, how about Yandere Andrew and Ashley x Older Sister Reader with plot being something like

Y/N never cared about Andrew and Ashley cus she find them annoying, she never tried to be good sister even a little and didn't pay attention to their strange behavior towards her, bc despite her careless they loved her and always clings to her and ruins her relationships with boys and girls. And after another ruined relationship, Y/N finally fed up and leaves them, they of course tried to use manipulations and even threats in hopes that Y/N would stay and be theirs but all this things doesn't worked on her. After a two weeks Andrew and Ashley manages to find Y/N....with new boyfriend which makes their blood boil, bc Y/N is theirs only

Facts - 1. Y/N hates mom and dad as much as Ashley, thats why she lived with Andrew and Ashley

2. Y/N is not any better than Andrew and Ashley. Y/N kills some dudes before just for fun

So what do you think?

Thank you anon I needed the motivation TwT

TW: Manslaughter and Murder

Yandere!Ashley and Andrew x Older Sister!Reader

You’ve been fucked over since birth

Teen parents, one who was spineless, the other who was a manipulative bitch- both who had no idea what they were doing or how to use a goddamn condom

Yeah, you were screwed

By age 4 you learned that you can only really count on yourself in this shit bag of a world

Unfortunately by then, your mother already popped out two other crotch demons to ignore

They thought you were such an independent child, why not have another? This one is also quiet and doesn’t complain- so again!

They stopped having kids after Ashley came around- and if you’re going to give your little sister credit for anything, it’s that she taught them to use protection next time

Or convince mom to get her tubes tied and avoid this whole thing again, truthfully you didn’t care how they went about it- so long as you didn’t have to deal with any more annoying little shits

Ashley and Andrew were always clinging to, which was a normal thing you heard little siblings do….but god they took it to the extreme

Making up excuses to leave class so they could go bother you in yours, following you around all day, Ashley would try to climb you and cling to your back so she would always be close to you

You hated it, you hated it so much

“Y/N?…”

You groaned, jostling in your bed to turn your back to the little shit. You just wanted to sleep, it was the one time you didn’t have to deal with either of them but here’s shit one now!

Andy reached a hand out and poked your back, or where he presumed it to be under the covers, “Y/N?” He persisted, “I know you’re awake.”

“How the fuck do you know that?..” you mumbles from under the covers.

Andy reached his hands out and tugged on the blanket to try and pull it off, “You never sleep on your side, your body naturally turns you on to your back. And you have a specific look you make when asleep.” Andy tried to replicate the look, an open mouth and shut eyes. His lip twitched a little for authenticity.

You sat up, staring daggers at him, “Do you watch me sleep? Little creep—“ you threw your pillow at his face, which had the opposite effect you hoped for. You wanted him to feel dejected, walk solemnly back to his bed while you struggled to ever sleep again. But no, your little brother just laughed and hugged the pillow tight.

The noise caused the small form under the covers of the bed across the room to rustle. Great, you both woke LeyLey. The lump under her covers shot up, pulling at the starry blanket so she could look at you two.

“Ooohhhh, are we sleeping in Y/N’s bed tonight!” She sounded excited, crawling off of her bed and rushing over to Andy’s side. She noticed the pillow and tried to take it, “Give!”

“No way!” Andy held the pillow close to his chest like a treasured gift, “It’s mine! Y/N gave it to me!”

Actually I threw it at you, you thought- but the two were too focused on their tussling to notice you watching unamused. God at this rate they’re going to wake up mom and dad and then you’ll somehow get in trouble—

“You’re their older sister!” Mom would say, “You should be mediating them!”

Technically you shouldn’t. You should be asleep. Or not even born. Self deprecating aside, you would much rather go to sleep as soon as possible, and it’s clear Andy and LeyLey won’t leave unless you let them sleep with you.

So, with a sigh, you pull the covers away, “Get in here you two- and stop fighting over the pillow!” You snatch it from Andy, who gives you the look of a sad puppy you just kicked, “You’re gonna wake mom and dad.”

LeyLey looked ecstatic, hoping into your bed and climbing over you- making sure to ‘accidentally’ knee you in the groin. You wince, you may not have anything down there- but it still hurt! Andy was next, climbing up and settling down on the other side of you. He hugged your arm, smiling softly. LeyLey wrapped her tiny arms around your waist, as best as she could to hold on to you. You sat there, uncomfortably waiting for them to let go, only for their soft snoring to tell you they fell asleep.

Clinging to you.

You groan, this is going to be a long night.

You had hoped that as your siblings got older they wouldn’t need their big sister as much, oh how wrong you were

It seemed like the opposite was true- the older they got the more they needed you. The more they clung to you.

They always had an excuse for needing you, this happened so much that any friends you made drifted away from you

Which only gave you more time to spend with your ‘precious little siblings’

Eugh

You had planned to leave. To buy a bus ticket and drive far far away from your childhood home and your fucked up family

But then the quarantine hit

Mom and dad ditched, Ashley being the last one to see mom on her way out

But even with the two extra mouths gone, the rations drained fast and the wardens made no effort the feed the three of you

The laundry detergent looked tastier everyday

Besides the lack of food situation- Ashley and Andrew loved the quarantine

They got to be with their big sister 24/7

And holllyyy shit they abused that

Most mornings you would wake up to one of them in your bed, clinging to you like a leech

You stopped kicking them off after the 10th time, it just became a routine

Whenever you went into a room, conveniently they also needed to be in there

About to shower? Ashley needs to do the laundry!

Want to take a nap on mom and dad’s bed, Andrew’s looking for a book, he’ll even read it to you as a bedtime story. How thoughtful

It got to a point where it was just second nature to find them within 3 feet of you

Though there was only so much one person could take

And after the newscaster announced the quarantine would be extended for three more weeks, well….

You stared at the sleeping forms of your siblings, wanting to be 100% sure they were asleep before you enacted your plan. You pulled the covers off of yourself, quietly getting up. You’ve lived in this trash fire of an apartment for 24 years of your miserable life, and thankfully memorized the creaky spots on the ground to avoid.

You couldn’t spend another three weeks in here. The three of you ran out of food a little over a month ago, and you weren’t going to let paramedics find your starved corpse being clung on to by your siblings. Hell no!

Your eyes darted between Ashley and Andrew’s beds as you walked, one misstep and they’d ask where you were going- then everything would go to shit. Your hand slowly raised itself to the doorknob, quietly twisting it. You flinched as it cracked open- looking to see if anyone woke up. Ashley was closest to the door, but she slept like a corpse. Andrew on the other hand was a light sleeper, so it was mostly him you were worried about waking up. You gave a silent sigh as he turned out to still be asleep.

You tiptoed through the door, flinching as you tried to quietly close it. Once the door was shut, your hand hovered over the knob as you waited.

Silence!

You were just in the homestretch now. Your wallet was already in your pants pocket, really that was all you needed to be honest. You had no items of sentimental value to bring, no. You wanted to forget this place. Burn it to the ground in your mind.

You made your way to the balcony, Ashley stupidly left the key in it. You opened the door and took in the fresh air….well- as fresh as it could be with the air pollution. You looked over the balcony, searching as you spotted your escape. A rickety looking water spout. It looked faulty, like it was about to snap off of the building, if not that- just cutting your hand on it was enough to contract tetanus. But honestly, you didn’t care.

You hoisted yourself on to the balcony’s ledge, hugging the wall and swinging your foot over to hook around the spout. Success! Alright…you just gotta..

Hyping yourself up, you ripped the bandaid off and just got it over with. You succeed, you just have to shimmy down to your escape. You fail, you die.

Win-Win!

You succeed though, holding on to the water spout like your life depended on it. Which it did. With care and ease, you worked your way down the spout, until your feet touched the concrete ground.

“Hey!” A deep voice made your blood run cold. Turning your head, you shielded your eyes from the bright flashlight. The man behind it wore a uniform similar to the warden’s, he must work with them, “What are you doing?”

You needed to think fast. You looked around and noticed a stray brick at your feet. You whipped your head back to the warden, his eyes fixed on you as his free hand hovered over his gun.

It all happened faster than you could process. Chucking the brick at the asshole, he fell to the ground with a thud. You didn’t look at the body, didn’t bother to make sure he was still alive. You ran. And ran.

You’ve never ran so fast in your life.

You were free. Free!

Free from starving!

Free from any of this shit!

Sure you probably killed a man, but it was imperative to your own survival

Not like anyone knew it was you anyway

Ashley and Andrew were going to starve, so any connection people could make to your disappearance and the warden’s death will be gone soon.

You bought a bus ticket and high tailed it out of there

Got a new job, and saved up enough for your own shitty apartment

Sibling free too!

Life was…starting to look okay, for once.

We don’t talk about the people you mugged to help save up for this place though

That’s between you and whatever fucked up good there is in this world

….and the people you mugged. Them too

But- point is, you’ve got a job, an apartment, a boyfriend that you met through work

Everything was pretty okay

You fumbled with your keys, eventually getting them to turn the stupidly janky lock. God you needed to get better locks installed, the keyhole being stripped from years of wear and tear. Apparently the landlord refuses to get them changed. But hey, at least your door opened

You wish your door hadn’t opened.

Before you could take in the gruesome sight in front of you, the wretched stench of blood and decay hit your nose. It wafted into your open mouth, slack jawed from shock and grazed your tastebuds. You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth and nose, dry heaving to not throw up.

There, in the middle of your apartment was the cooling corpse of your boyfriend. His body was mutilated, blood being lazily cleaned by his attackers. A tall, messy black haired man was on his hands and knees, wiping at the blood- while overtop of your partner’s corpse was a woman with her own black haired pulled back into a ponytail.

Green and pink eyes.

….your siblings.

“Oh!” Ashley looked up, grinning ear to ear, “Y/N! You’re home!”

Andrew perked up as well, sitting on his knees now as he shot up like a meerkat. Both scrambled to their feet, clinging to your arms as you stared at the body in shock.

“Sorry for such a sloppy job, we’re normally cleaner,” Andrew’s words were trying to reassure you, but it was just doing the opposite, “He just wouldn’t die.”

“You really know how to pick em sis.” Ashley’s nails dug into your arm, her statement feeling more like a jab than a compliment.

Though your body was there, your mind wasn’t. It was running a mile a minute trying to answer so many questions. How did they find you? How did they get in? What’s with the candles? What’s with the weird runes on the floor?

You feel like none of those will be answered, and as your little siblings nuzzle against you like cats- the harsh reality dawns on you.

You’ll never escape them.

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

not anymore.

luke castellan x reader - college au, only one bed, enemies to lovers.

im back!! sorry for being afk, ive had lots of exams!

"oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me." you hear luke say as you drag your suitcase into the room.

you rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, already mad as it was. this was supposed to be a fun weekend: your college has organised a trip for students to go to new york, which you had been excited for.

the trip was off to a great start - you and your friend clarisse had explored the city where you had eaten the best bagel in your entire life.

your happiness, however, was short-lived.

"I'M SHARING WITH WHO?!" your voice echoed through the hotel lobby, causing clarisse to nudge you.

"luke. apparently." clarisse says, almost amused.

"that can't be right. how is this even allowed?" you frown.

"well you're adults, so you're probably trusted-" she starts but you cut her off.

"i can not share a room with him clarisse, i fucking despise him." you groan. you had hated luke since kindergaten and he hated you. that was the way it had always been.

"it's only two nights." she tries to comfort you.

"ONLY TWO NIGHTS, THAT'S TWO NIGHTS TOO MANY." you despised him. he was the bane of your existence.

"you think I want to be sharing a room with someone as stupid as you?" a new voice came from behind you, you turned round to see luke stood, glaring at you. next to him was chris, who waved at clarisse.

"i'm way smarter than you. i have every right to complain." you glare back.

"oh, do you even hear yourself right now? you sound ridiculous." he replies.

"literally shut up, your opinion is irrelevant to me." you say.

"you're so fucking annoying oh my god." luke groans.

"i'm annoying?! you're the one who-"

you continued to bicker, completely forgetting your surroundings. chris and clarisse shared knowing looks with each other, the two of you claimed that you hated each other, sure. but the tension between the two of you was unmatched.

"hey.." clarisse says, dragging your attention from luke "at least there'll be two beds, you can just ignore each other."

this put a smile back on your face.

"thank fuck.." you say and the two of you begin to walk up to your respective rooms.

"what is it-" you were about to come out with some form of insult until you realised what his reaction was for.

there, in front of you, was your hotel room. with only one bed.

"are you taking the piss?" you let out an exasperated sigh.

"i think i'm going to die." luke groans.

"oh shut up, go see if we can change rooms." you remark.

"why can't you?" he responds.

"because i can't be bothered to come up all those stairs again" you respond, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"you're so lazy." he replies.

"are you gonna do it then or what?" you put your hands on your hips.

"fuck yes." luke replies, and leaves the room.

when he is gone, you let yourself fall onto the bed and groan. this could only ever happen to you. having to stay in a room with the boy you've hated since the age of 6 was one thing, but sharing a bed with him? even worse. you wish you had never come on this stupid trip. then you'd be at home, no luke, curled up in bed, watching the new season of bridgerton. was it too late to-

your thoughts were interrupted by the return of luke, who looked as if he was going to kill you for even breathing near him.

"well?!" you stand.

"there's no other rooms. this is the only one, we have to wait till tomorrow." he frowns.

"oh for the love of god." you say, putting your head in your hands.

"yeah. that's how i feel right now. stuck in a room with a freak." luke says.

"i hate you." you glare at him.

"the feeling is mutual." he glares back.

"you're such a dick."

"only because you are the most annoying person on earth."

"fuck this, i'm having a shower." you grab your pjamas and make your way too the bathroom.

"be quick. i want one." luke calls out.

"i want, doesn't get." you stick your tongue out at him.

"what are you.. eight?" he glares.

you flip him off and shut the door, locking it, and get in the shower.

the hot water calmed your anger, as you tried to take as long as possible. maybe you should try and drown yourself? i mean it would get you out of this situation. that was what you needed.

you continued to ponder the logistics with this until you realised your skin had gone a bit wrinkly from being in there for too long. you got out, dried yourself, and put your pjamas on. you regret how little you brought. the heat was stifling, so you had only brought some shorts and a small crop top. in your defence, you thought you'd be sharing with clarisse.

you opened the door, and walked out the bathroom, luke was layed on the bed, on his phone.

"fucking finally, are you done in the bathroom yet, you took-" he blinks, stopping once he sees what you are wearing.

"oh shut up. i'm done." you glare.

luke nods awkwardly - what the fuck was up with him? - his gaze lingering on your figure. he clears his throat.

"uh yeah. um good." he finally responds standing up.

"the fuck is up with you?" you give him a funny look.

"nothing weirdo." he snaps out of it, and makes his way to have a shower over his own.

you frown at his reaction - why was he being so weird. you shake your head, and get into bed, laying on the edge, and go on your phone.

after about fifteen minutes, luke responds and gets into the other side of the bed.

you lay in silence for about fifteen minutes, both not knowing what to say.

"you still awake?" luke asks you, turning over to look at you,

"why wouldn't i be?" you retort.

"it was just a question.. why are you always so hostile?!"

"because you annoy the living daylight out of me."

"you can't even look at me when you say that." he smirks.

he was right, your back was still turned. you roll your eyes but turn so you are facing him.

"yes i can. you annoy the living daylight out of me." you say looking into his eyes.

his eyes.. were they always this pretty? what was up with you? it was luke. LUKE.

"i know i do." he smirks, looking into your eyes.

you feel flustered. the two of you go quiet for a minute until luke breaks the silence.

"why do you even hate me anyway?" he asks.

"because you anger me." you respond.

"but why?"

"do you not remember when you pushed me off my bike when we were 6?"

"oh yeah. that was so funny." he smiles at the memory.

"no it wasn't." you retort.

"it was." he looks at you again.

the two of you go silent again. what was happening to you? was luke moving closer or was it just you? no he definitely was. was he leaning in-

"turn the light off. i'm tired." luke suddenly demands, catching you off guars. you immediately move away from him.

"um no? i'm not tired." you respond back. you weren't crazy.. you swear you had just had a moment with him.

"do i care?" he asks, avoiding eye contact with him

"i'm not doing it." you retort, rolling you eyes.

"fine. i'll do it." he gets up and turn the light off, leaving just the lamp on the corner on.

"oh you are so irritating." you glare, looking up at him.

"whatever, just go to sleep, we have to meet early tomorrow." he responds and gets into bed, turning his back away from you.

you mock him whilst his back is turned, and turn away yourself.

how were you supposed to get to sleep? you swear you were about to.. i don't know.. kiss luke. your mortal enemy.. except not really. you knew for sure he was right back to being the same old luke as before.

you frown and lay there for about ten minutes, trying to fall asleep.

"(y/n).. i'm.. sorry." you hear luke mutter, next to you. luke had NEVER apologised to you before. EVER. but you were still mad.

"go to sleep." you repeat what luke said to you. you were petty, what can you say?"

"i can't." he responds, making you roll your eyes.

"you can't?! you literally said you were tired." you say.

"how in the hell do you expect me to sleep when you're right there and i can't stop thinking about you?" he raises his voice, catching you off guard.

what. the. fuck. what did he mean. what.

you turn over, to see luke already staring at you.

"what.." you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you see luke already looking at you.

"you're the bane of my existence. i hate you. you get under my skin. but fuck.. why do you have to be so beautiful?" he says, looking into your eyes.

"luke.." you mutter.

"i can't hold back any longer, (y/n), i can't keep pretending i don't l-"

you interrupt him by crashing your lips onto him, kissing him hungrily. luke happily returns the kiss, wrapping his arm round your waist.

after about ten seconds, you pull away.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-" you aplogise.

"don't be sorry. i liked it." he replies, making you smile.

well one thing was now certain for sure. you definitely didn't hate each other anymore.

[girlokwhatever]

₊˚ପ⊹˚୨୧⋆ ⋆༉‧₊˚.: ̗̀➛ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part 3 ; back and forth

previous part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

it’s been a week since you last saw paige, relentlessly rejecting her invitations to hangout and spend time together.

at first you were able to use the excuse of being sick as you feigned cough over the phone. but after five days, realizing no one else was sick and you sounded relatively fine, she stopped believing you. you only answered her phone calls, typically ignoring her texts and using the excuse of sleeping being the reason you hadn’t ever replied.

she was starting to get annoyed. especially when she saw you out in public with a group of your friends. you lied, and now she caught you red-handed.

she approached your friend group, recognizing a few of them. you were laughing, no cough and no watery eyes from the cold you claimed to have. if anything you seemed great, smile glowing like you didn’t have a care in the world.

“hey, babe!”

“paige- hey.. what are you doing here?” you attempt to keep the cheery tone of your voice alive, smile still plastered on your face.

“i could ask you the same thing.”

“i’ll catch up to you guys later.” you wave yourself goodbye, turning away from your friends in what seems like a loving embrace with paige.

she’s pissed. her brows are furrowed and there’s an evident frown on her lips as she looks at you. you try to come up with some excuse for being here, something to cover up your avoidance of the woman standing in front of you. nothing comes to mind though and you’re stuck in the awkward silence for a few moments.

“are we just gonna pretend like you haven’t been lying to me for a week?”

“i haven’t.”

“right. i can obviously see how deathly sick you are.”

the reality of your behavior started to sink in, guilt trickling into your consciousness. you knew you had your reasons though, even if it wasn’t properly executed.

after the party last weekend everything shifted for you. you knew it could only end one way and figured taking matters into your own hands wouldn’t be too bad. if you pushed her away, maybe whatever was going on between the two of you would fade.

it wasn’t. it consumed paige’s every breath. every thought and emotion. once she figured out you probably weren’t actually sick, her heart sank. she couldn’t understand what was going on with you or your ‘relationship.’ your lack of communication didn’t help much either.

“i don’t really want to talk about this.”

“then what else should we talk about? maybe we should talk about how all my friends are asking where my girlfriend went and i have to make up some lame excuse on why you refuse to talk to me. let’s talk about that. or maybe we can talk about how you’ve completely shut me out. or do you have nothing to say? like you’ve had nothing to say for a while fucking week.”

“shut up.”

“no, i-”

“shut up. bianca is like, ten feet away.”

she’s about to turn her head (amateur move) in the direction you’re looking but you stop her, managing to cup your hands around her face in time. her eyes still wander around trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, but decides you’re the best view.

even though she’s mad, upset, and honestly hurt that you lied, she can’t feel that way forever when you look like that. you’re looking straight into her eyes like you’re searching for something. paige’s eyes scan over you in your entirety, especially landing on your lips every now and then.

and it’s as if, by some miracle, you understand what her eyes are saying. her eyes are saying something her words can’t and won’t say. without giving yourself time to process your decision, you pull paige in by the sides of her face and kiss her.

it’s surprisingly slow and sweet, only lasting a few seconds. you thought you’d panic into it but it just felt so natural. paige’s hands find solace on your hips, pulling you closer when you part from her lips.

she doesn’t know if bianca is still watching and honestly doesn’t even care. she pulls you into a kiss of her own, this one being much more desperate and heated. you have to grip the back of her neck to steady yourself as she pulls you further into her space. the kiss lasted longer than either of you intended, finally pulling away and fighting for air.

paige is still so close to you, holding your body against hers. she leans in, kissing your forehead, then moves her face down to your ear, “don’t ever avoid me like that again.”

you nod at her words, not taking the time to comprehend how serious her tone is. when you turn your head you catch a glimpse of bianca and she’s already staring back at you, a deep frown settled on her face. you look away from her instantly and focus back on paige, who is still standing in front of you with her hand on your cheek.

“i’m so sorry i did that, i really should’ve asked first.”

“nah, don’t apologize. girlfriends kiss, right?”

you experience a whirlwind of emotions almost instantly. realizing everything that’s happened in the span of five minutes astonishes you undoubtedly. you can’t believe you kissed paige, and even more so than that, you can’t believe she kissed you back. out of her own free will, she pulled you back into another kiss.

paige was probably the best you’ve ever had too, but you don’t really have her.

it’d been a few weeks since the beginning of your scheme with paige. things were starting to go better, get more casual. she was sitting on your couch next to you, your legs draped over hers as you watched a movie together.

you never ended up officially talking about the kiss or the fact that you ignored her. you were thankful that she just let those moments pass because you honestly had no idea what kind of excuse you could make up for either.

paige’s hand brushed through your hair and gently pulled out any tangles as she went. it was sweet, loving even. anyone from an outside perspective would think it to be highly romantic.

“hey, i think im gonna go out with my friends tonight. eva’s trying to plan this friend get-together thing.”

she turns to you, peeling her eyes away from the screen. her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, something you don’t notice because you’re texting eva back.

paige can’t help but to think about how beautiful you are, especially when it’s her shirt you’re wearing. it’s nothing out of the ordinary, even before your predicament, but it feels much more intimate now.

“that’s cool. where’re yall gonna go?”

“to a club i think. eva’s a party girly.”

“like you?”

you feign a gasp, finally looking at paige. she’s looking back at you with a grin because she loves to tease you and she loves being right.

“like me?! i’m not,” you’re shaking your head in denial. there’s still a smile on both of your faces when you lock eyes. paige’s hand stills in your hair, traveling down to the back of your neck.

she hardly even registers that she pulls your face into her, meshing your lips together. she kisses you, slotting her lips between yours in a delicate moment of intimacy. you kiss her back like it’s second nature to you. you find so much peace and comfort in paige that you practically forget she’s only your friend.

you’re pulling away first with wide eyes and pinker lips. paige also seems to be snapping back to reality, immediately standing up and apologizing.

“shit- princess i’m so sorry. i just forgot-”

you cut her off; the awkwardness of the moment being close to unbearable, “it’s okay paige. i’m just gonna..”

“yeah, you should.. y’know.”

“yeah.. i’ll go get ready. you can um..”

“i’ll just go, yeah. i’ll see you later.”

“see ya.. i’ll, y’know, text you later.”

“sounds good.”

she leaves you to the silence of your apartment, the soft hum of the air conditioning suddenly seeming so deafening. paige’s voice buzzes in your ear as you stare at her spot on the couch. millions of emotions and revelations wash over you like holy water, and finally the stars seem to align for you. you finally have some semblance of understanding as to why.

you feel a tear trickle down your face, rolling over your cheek and eventually down your chin. you sit back down on the couch while more tears continue to fall, a choked sob escaping you before you even register how upset you really are.

you love paige. it was so hard to admit to yourself, guilt creeping in at the thought that maybe, in some way, bianca was right. it had been a long time since you loved bianca, always naturally gravitating towards paige more and you could see how that would hurt her. there was no physical cheating, but mentally you had always been with paige.

paige is the best you’ve ever had relationship-wise, but you can never have her. she’s this untouchable entity, one that could ruin your life if you let her. if you get with her, bianca was right and no one can deny it.

you think that maybe you put yourself and paige in this position on purpose subconsciously because this was the only way you felt like you could have her. maybe it was a form of further.

but now that your situation is actually live, it’s slapped in your face how fake it is. none of those feelings were real for her. it was all a game you two were playing.

maybe you were right. you couldn’t have her.

you wiped your tears away, pulling yourself off the couch and towards your room. you needed to escape into your own form of reality, one that wouldn’t come back to haunt you.

since you’ve finally been able to successfully admit your unrealistic and unrequited feelings for paige, you can begin to move on from them. maybe tonight you could find something to help you move on. or someone.

⍣ ೋ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊🀥·˚ ༘

GUYS I WILL SPELL CHECK THIS SOME OTHER TIME

why do i feel like this series makes zero sense

guys if you have genuine feedback pls lmk PLS

like is this even good anymore seriously.

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 3

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Pregnancy.

See my Masterlist Here

Part Two

The stomach bug you had caught was so strange. You would be perfectly fine, eating whatever you wanted for hours. Then a certain smell would hit you like a ton of bricks, sending you running to the nearest bathroom or trash can.

It had been two weeks and you were still puking your guts up randomly. You made an appointment with your doctor at the end of the week to make sure nothing was seriously wrong with you.

You and the team had to fly out to Colorado for a case. You were so exhausted, you could barely keep your eyes open on the trip there. Penelope texted you for the fiftieth time today checking on you. You insisted you were fine, you just couldn’t get rid of whatever illness you had.

Spencer and Ashley sat across from you, her hands playing with his unruly curls like you used to. When he looked at you, concern written all over his face after you puked in the bathroom, she grabbed his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. That act alone made your stomach turn. Thankfully, Hotch cleared his throat, shooting them a warning glance.

When you finally landed, you were alone with Spencer. Hotch paired you up often because you worked well together. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you. You vomited six times yesterday. You’re having trouble holding down anything but crackers and ginger ale. You took a nap on the way here. You’ve never done that.”

“I’m fine, Spencer. Don’t worry about me. You should be worrying about your little girlfriend getting you in trouble for PDA.” He scrunches up his nose. “Are you jealous?” You laugh at that. “No, I’m not. I feel like death, and I don’t want to argue with you. I just don’t want to see you sucking face right in front of me when I’m nauseous anyways. I want to solve this case so I can go home and lay down.” He tried not to bother you with frivolous questions the rest of the day.

The next morning, you felt great. Your skin was glowing, you took time to style your hair and do your makeup. When you walked in the local police station to start work, everyone complimented you. Everyone except for Ashley, who rolled her eyes and seemed annoyed that you didn’t have your hair in a rat’s nest pooled on top of your head with dark circles under your eyes.

You ate all three meals with the team without needing to vomit. You couldn’t believe it was finally over. You decided to call your doctor first thing in the morning to cancel your appointment.

Your joy was short lived, when the next morning you felt awful again. Luckily, you hadn’t called your doctor yet. The day went by quickly. Rossi came up with the information you needed to find the unsub. You slept the whole way home.

You check into the doctor’s office filling out form after form. When the nurse calls you back, she gives you a cup and sends you into the bathroom. You wait in the small room for the doctor. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest while you wait for her to come in.

When she finally arrives, she checks your vitals, writing them down on your chart. “How long do I have?” You ask, only kind of joking. She smiles, placing her stethoscope around her neck. “You’re not dying. You’re pregnant! Congratulations! According to the information you gave us, it looks like you’re about six weeks. We will schedule an ultra sound for another time to give you a more accurate prediction.”

You start to tune her out as she continues speaking. Pregnant? How could this happen? You and Spencer were always so careful except… Your mind flashes with memories of that night. How his feverish hands were all over you. How he couldn’t wait to have you so he took you against the wall. How beautiful he thought you looked with his cum dripping out of you. Now those actions had consequences. How were you going to tell him?

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom

[literaila]

a walk

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you, satoru, and the children stumble upon a curse during your walk

warnings: a curse, info on reader's ct, satoru is annoying

last part | next part

*

year five.

your glare aimed at satoru is almost instinctive at this point. 

and so is the wall you’ve put in front of the children, a glowing white only you (and satoru) can see.

your muscles tense automatically, and you make eye contact with the curse standing in front of you. 

the mesh of flesh and bone curse, staring at you and your family like you're a meal, hot and ready for the taking. 

"want some," it says, taking a step towards you, "want some?" 

honestly, you're sick and tired of the weird things they all say. but before you can gesture at satoru--seriously, is he going to just stand there?--it's gone, in just an instant. 

and great. now you're going to have to go look for it. you doubt it'd prove a challenge for you, or satoru, obviously, but still. you're supposed to be taking a walk. hanging out. 

and it's just started raining, which is also probably satoru's fault.

your glare increases, and the two kids watch the two of you as you stare silently at each other. 

you can feel it when tsumiki pushes at your barrier like she's testing something, and you almost smile. 

but then you remember exactly why it’s there in the first place. 

“satoru…” you say, in warning, in indignation, in ‘i’m going to kick your ass as soon as i deal with this.’ 

“what?!” he gasps, looking at you, and he’s already smiling guiltily. “i didn’t do anything. i don’t create curses.” 

his hands are raised in defense and he's taken several steps away from you. 

good, he should know his place. 

“oh, right, what’s the one benefit of the six eyes?” you ask, dryly, still much too close to him. “sensing the curses,” you grind out, an evil look on your face. 

you don't even care that he didn't immediately exorcise it. it's more that he's acting like an idiot, like a regular civilian with no ulterior motives--

satoru waves a hand, nonchalant. “so i missed one.” 

“we both know that you knew it was there.” 

“um, actually,” satoru looks towards the kids—still entrapped in your cage—with a grin. “we both don’t know that.” 

“i’m seriously going to—“ 

“there’s a lot of things to sense,” he argues, crossing his arms. his voice is boisterous, completely irritating. "not like you would know. it takes a lot of work to—“ 

“okay, you can go," you snap, almost eye to eye with him (minus the blindfold that is doing nothing for him). his hair is also ridiculous, dripping from the rain. he looks like a drooping dandelion. 

you should leave him outside until he freezes. 

“what?” 

“shoo,” you tell him, waving a hand. “take the kids and go home. i’ll deal with it.” 

“how is that fair?” 

“it’s fair because i’ll be beating up a curse instead of you.” 

“please," satoru scoffs, shaking his head at you. 

you roll your eyes. “and i can’t teleport, you idiot. take them, please. i don’t want tsumiki to get hurt.” 

you both look at them, standing there watching you, and megumi is shaking his head. you sigh. if only you could limit the sound within your objects. 

you already know what this is going to start up again--

“i don’t think megumi wants that,” satoru tells you, leaning in and smiling. his face is so close to yours that you can see the air he breathes. 

“do you want me to hit you?” 

satoru only looks at you, his face completely unbearable. he's obviously already won this argument, because you're terrible at denying megumi anything--which he knows--and you realize, suddenly, that he probably planned this. 

seriously, he needs to be banned from existence. 

“where’s the curse?” you ask him, voice low. 

satoru’s grin widens, and he doesn’t even pretend to look around. “hiding about a block away.” 

you release your technique, both of the kids immediately fall against nothing but air. tsumiki laughs at the rain that suddenly hits her, and megumi watches the two of you closely. 

you don’t look at them though, your eyes are only on satoru. 

there’s a tug at your side, a pull of your shirt. “can i stay?” megumi asks, his head brushing against your arm. 

he must've learned that pleading look from satoru because it immediately dissolves your anger. you don't even think, about to give in, and then--

“what a wonderful idea,” satoru says. “some light practice.” 

that calm disappears. on instinct, you answer. “no. go home with gojo and tsumiki. i’ve got it, bud.” 

tsumiki is looking around. she understands what curses are—and to the shock of everyone, she can see them—but unlike the rest of you, she has no natural defense from them. 

which means that satoru needs to hurry up and get her out of there. not to mention the fact that she doesn't like your job, and she doesn't really understand the way curses operate. 

and also, she's a bit skittish. 

“but you don’t know where it went,” megumi argues, his voice almost whiny, soft, and pitched. your brow furrows. 

finally, you lose satoru’s gaze and look down at him. “i can see, megumi. i know how to look for curses.” 

“hide and seek with a curse?” satoru chuckles, patting your head. you don't get the chance to slap his hand away before he takes a step back. 

you glare at him again, matching his obvious satisfaction. 

“my dogs can find it,” megumi says. “i want to help.” 

“no, megumi. we don’t even know how strong it is or what it can—“ 

“grade three,” satoru answers, automatically. “it can camouflage, but it shouldn’t be an issue with your traps and the demon dogs.” 

you turn towards him, eye twitching. 

satoru nods, knowingly. “oh, yeah, my eyes are good now. i think i just needed to adjust to the rain.” 

“satoru, i swear—“ 

“i better take tsumiki home,” he looks towards her. “ready, kid?” 

tsumiki barely has the chance to nod before they're both gone. 

you can hear satoru’s distant “good luck!”

every single nerve in your body is automatically on edge, ready to attack him--even though he's literally gone. 

and you would stomp your foot on the ground and throw a tantrum like a literal child except… 

your child is standing right there and there’s a curse roaming around. you don't want megumi here in the first place, and you definitely don't want him lingering around while the curse reeks havoc on who knows what. 

you swallow—preparing a million different punishments for satoru in your head—then look at megumi, immediately softening. 

“i can call satoru to come and get you,” you tell him, gently, trying not to plead. “really. you don’t need to worry about this.” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “why can’t i practice?” 

“because… you’re only eleven, kid. you don’t need to practice. when you’re ready for high school—“ 

“i want to help.” 

you sigh, nodding. of course he does. really, he was raised by two complete masochists with superpowers. he's watched you and satoru fight over responsibility for four years, learning about burdens from the champions of keeping them. 

what more can you expect? 

you would sit there and argue for a little longer. try to convince him that jujutsu isn’t a fun hobby to take part in, not something to mess around with—but, again, there’s a grade-three curse somewhere out there. and it’s raining. 

you're already a bit cold, and you want to get home as soon as possible so satoru doesn't get too comfortable. 

“okay,” you tell him, giving him a small smile. he looks silly with his hair dripping down his face, eyes widening in success. “go ahead.” 

megumi nods, flexing his hands. then he looks back up at you, taking a step back. and then he does it again. 

he repeats this process several times, preparing for something... you guess.

it's a bad enough reminder that you have no clue what satoru's telling him when they go off on their own, acting like the reckless little boys that they are. 

and you’re just about to tell him not to be nervous when he folds his hands together and whispers “demon dogs.” 

you could try to act unimpressed, but it’s pointless. 

really, the shadows responding instantly are amazing. in a single second, there are two puppies there, appearing from nothing more than thin air. 

and you know a lot about summoning, but you've never managed to bring anything to life. walls are entirely boring, you decide, looking at megumi's pets. 

isn't there a saying about your children succeeding you?  

“go on,” megumi tells both of the puppies, fortunately missing your astonished look, patting the black one’s head. “find it.” 

the two dogs respond with succinct barks, and then they’re gone, tails wagging as they listen to megumi's command. 

you wonder if you're going to have to give them both a bath later. you already know satoru will be complaining about the smell of wet dog. 

you turn to megumi with a smile, tilting your head. “now we follow them?” 

“yeah,” he takes a step forward. “this way.” 

you follow after megumi, trying to remind yourself that satoru has taught him about this--that he'll be fine, even if the curse does show up, because you're there. but it's difficult. your entire body is on high alert. 

you haven't felt this tense around a curse since you were fifteen.

megumi, as if sensing this, speaks up suddenly. “do you think i’m weak?” 

you look towards him with wide eyes. “what?” 

megumi continues to walk forward, seeming to listen to soundless signals from his shikigami. he doesn't look back at you.

“is that why you don’t want me to practice my technique? because you think i’ll get hurt?” 

your face falls, guilt seeping through your body immediately. stupid satoru and his impulsive decisions. this is his fault too. 

“oh, megumi, no. of course not.” 

“then why?" he asks, turning to look at you, his face is stern, comprehensive. "gojo thinks i’m ready.” 

you sigh, looking around a corner. this district is completely empty. if you weren't so distracted by satoru and his stupid smiles, you would've noticed the vibe around here earlier. you should've sensed the curse before it could come face to face with you, at least. 

you swallow, shaking your head. “it’s got nothing to do with you, megs.”

he looks at you skeptically. 

“really," you blow a breath out. "i think… your shikigami are very impressive. it’s just that you’re still a kid,” you shrug. “i don’t think you should get involved in jujutsu before you have to.” 

“but i want to.” 

you'd like to tell him about all of the things that you want. all of the things you know you can't have, because they don't make sense. because they're not meant for you. 

but then, you know, that this is meant for him. that he was born with a purpose, jujutsu or not. 

and clearly, he's powerful. at eleven he's got shikigami that listen to his every command. shikigami that would die to protect him. 

and two parents who would do the exact same. 

still, he's your little boy. he's still so young, still so vulnerable. and, yes, you know that you can't keep him away from your curse-filled world forever. you know that megumi should be making these decisions for himself. 

but is it so wrong to want him to stay small and yours? to want to freeze time to keep both of your children protected from everything possible?

“i know—i know. it’s…” you give him a small smile, bizarrely proud of him all of the sudden. his tenacity, his strength. his willingness to ask you this in the first place. “it’s about me, really." you look away from him, sniffing in the rain. 

megumi is lingering at your side now, walking right next to you. you wonder if he's cold. you should've grabbed an extra jacket or an umbrella. 

"when i was your age," you continue, eventually. "i didn’t want to be a sorcerer, and, obviously, i didn’t have a choice. so i guess i just… don’t want to push you into it.” 

“you’re not,” megumi says, automatically, frowning. “why not?” 

“hmm?” 

“why didn’t you want to use jujutsu?” 

you smirk at him a little, a bittersweet feeling filling you, shaking your head. “my technique isn’t as cool as yours, you know.” 

“it’s cool,” he argues, but then he looks away. 

because you both know that he doesn't really understand how your technique works--not his fault, of course, but yours. you've been hesitant to tell him about it. it's not as easy to show as satoru's, and not as useful. 

still, maybe if...

you hold your hand out towards him. “try it,” you tell him, gesturing down. 

megumi furrows his brows but does as you say, reaching his hand toward yours. 

and when his hand is pushed back, kept away from your skin, he frowns. he tries it again, stopping in his tracks. you both pause there, standing in the rain. it doesn’t work, so he does it again. 

and then you release the barrier, grabbing his hand with a grin. it must startle him because he jumps. “see?”

megumi purses his lips, looking up at you. “like gojo?” 

“sort of. it’s more stationary, and it can’t stop any cursed techniques. your dogs could probably get through it if i was tired enough.” 

megumi looks down at your intertwined hands, still frowning. you squeeze his tiny hand in yours, feeling your system relax. 

he hasn't let go yet, so neither do you.

“when i was a kid, i couldn’t control it. someone would try to grab my hand,” you say, swinging his, “and they couldn’t. i thought something was wrong with me.” 

“oh.” 

you take a step into him, dragging him along as you resume walking. “that’s why i didn’t want to be a sorcerer. i thought it was… bad.” 

megumi looks up at you, eyes contemplative. “that’s why you left home?” 

a bit of a euphemism, but you shrug. megumi doesn’t need to know the gory details of being tossed out on the street with nothing but a jacket and some shoes. 

“yup.” 

he looks away, nodding. 

you're less worried about the curse now. he's close enough that you'll keep him safe, and you're assuming that his dogs haven't seen any sign of it yet. 

“i'm always gonna be worried about you going on missions,” you tell him, a bit softer now. completely serious. “but not because i think you’re powerless, or anything of the sort.” 

“really?” 

you laugh, shaking your head at him. 

you really do adore him. it's a shocking feeling, a strange love you wouldn't trade for anything. 

your children might be your greatest gift.

“if you ask me, megumi, and don’t tell him i said this, but i think you’ll rival satoru for strength someday.” 

he looks up at you, his lip twitching. 

“you might even beat him,” you add. 

he’s about to say something when he stops, looking forward again. one of his dogs trails up to him, panting softly. 

megumi looks down, silently communicating with the puppy, and then he gestures his head to the left. “this way,” megumi says, looking around. and this time, you just let him lead. 

you'll keep him safe, you know, and he probably doesn't need your help anyway. 

*

"so, how'd it go?" satoru asks, as soon as the two of you walk through the door. 

you know he's been waiting there the whole time, probably trying to resist the urge to text and make sure that you were both doing okay. 

he's overbearing and completely stupid. 

and his smile is very telling, just a bit hesitant. 

"mom says that i'm better than you," megumi says as he walks past him, making sure to shake his hair out onto satoru's pants. 

the man's jaw drops, looking at you. 

"what?" you say to him, shrugging. "i wasn't gonna lie to him."

*

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