#this was planned because i needed an excuse for her to be in his clothes for the night

[piinksdoll]

→ [808 | Spencer Reid/Emily Prentiss]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Fem!Bau!Reader, Emily Prentiss x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ angst, fluff, kissing

Word Count~ 2.8k

Warnings~ heartbreak, wine thats rlly it

a/n~ k this is very angsty, sad spence, sad reader, cute emily tho so yeah! have fun lmk what yall think! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

Today is the day. October 17th. 808 days. 

Spencer and I have been together for 808 days. I've counted every day since the first time he said ‘I love you’. I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was after a particularly hard case, and I had gotten hurt. After coming back to Quantico he insisted on driving me home. He walked me to my door and stood in front of me. His hands were trembling, the rain soaked his hair and his clothes. He looked at me with pure adoration before the words left his lips. “I love you Y/n.” 

I have been up for 6 hours, pacing my apartment trying to prepare myself for what's to come. He's on his way here and I know why. It’s over.

I glance up at the clock, 7:58. He’ll be here any minute. Suddenly I'm snapped out of my thoughts with the knock on my door. I opened the door and there he stood.  “Come in.” I moved out the way to let him in. He enters my apartment, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings as if he’s trying to memorise every detail. The warmth of my home feels so stark against the chill of the situation.

“Hey.” His voice barely above a whisper. “Hey.” I replied, my voice almost inaudible. “Do you want some coffee or-?” I start, desperate to break the silence, but he cuts me off. “No, I- ” He hesitates, glancing down at the floor before meeting my eyes. “I think we need to talk. I swallow hard, nodding slowly as the knot in my stomach tightens. “Yeah, I think we do.”

“Y/n, I don't know how to say this. I've been thinking about us, about everything.” He looked at me with those damn brown eyes. I could melt in them. “I think... I think we need to take a break. I need time to figure things out.” My brows furrowed in confusion. “Spencer. I don't know what to say to you.”

He nods slowly, tears pooling in his eyes. “I think it’s for the best. For both of us.” I shook my head, laughing bitterly at his words. “The best? For both of us? No Spencer, I think this is just for you.” His brow furrows, confusion mixed with hurt flashing across his face. “What do you mean?” I close my eyes trying to stop my tears from falling. “I mean, you’ve found something with JJ, haven’t you?” I cross my arms defensively, my heart racing. “You’re too scared to admit it, but you want her. You’re using ‘us’ as an excuse to justify leaving.”

“That’s not true!” he protests, his voice rising slightly. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. You know how much I care about you.” I shake my head at his words. 

“No Spencer, you don't because if you did, we wouldn't be here. Don't act like there's nothing going on between you too because there is. I've seen the stolen glances, the lingering touches. Do you think im stupid? I've seen the way you look at eachother so don't. Don't try to pretend you care about my feelings because you do not.” A sob escapes my lips. My hands are shaking and tears are streaming down my face as I continue “You don't get it do you? You are my whole world Spencer. I'd give my life for you and all I get is ‘I didn't plan for this to happen?’ You’re leaving me for one of, not only yours, but also my best friend. Like who does that to someone they love.” I shake my head, my tears blurring my vision, and for a moment, it feels like the world is collapsing around me. 

“I thought we had something special,” I say, my voice cracking. “Every day for 2 years, I believed we were building a future together. But now, here we are, and you’re throwing it all away.”

“Just go Spencer, I can't look at you without it ripping my heart out.” My voice trembles. He freezes for a moment, his hand still hovering over the doorknob, and I can see the hurt in his eyes “Y/N…” he starts, but I can’t bear to hear any more. “Please,” I choke out, forcing myself to meet his gaze one last time. “Just go.” His eyes search mine, a mixture of longing and despair etched across his face, and I want to scream at him to stay, to tell him I’ll forgive him, that we can work through this. But I can't do that to myself.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he leaves my apartment for the last time. 

My knees give in, I hit the floor unable to hold myself up. A gut wrenching scream leaves my lips, it feels as if the walls are closing in on me suffocating me with the weight of my heartbreak. I curl into myself, clutching my arms around my legs, the tears flowing freely now as sobs wrack my body. Each cry is a release, a desperate attempt to let go of the pain that clings to me like a second skin. It's over

—

Tonight is the first pasta and wine night at Rossi’s since Spencer left me for JJ. I smooth out my dress before heading out. Emily came to pick me up, “Hey, gorgeous! Ready to have some fun?” she asks, pulling me into a quick hug. I force a smile. “Yeah, let’s do this.” 

The drive to Rossi’s was quiet. I felt like Emily wanted to say something but chose not to pry. As we pulled into the driveway of Rossi’s gorgeous house, I saw Spencer’s car already parked. It made my stomach uneasy. I feel a pang in my chest, but I shake it off as we step inside.

“Y/N! Emily! You made it!” Penelope squeals, rushing over to pull me into a tight hug. Her excitement is contagious, and I can’t help but smile. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss Rossi’s cooking for the world,” I reply, attempting to sound cheerful. I felt Emily squeeze my hand, she gave me an encouraging smile as we walked further into the house. 

I catch glimpses of Spencer and JJ together as we walk past the kitchen into the living room. They’re sitting side by side on the couch, sharing quiet laughs and playful nudges. The way Spencer leans closer to her, the way JJ tucks her hair behind her ear, it all feels like a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost. I swallow hard, forcing myself to look away.

I walk back into the kitchen not wanting to witness them for another second taking a seat on the island with Emily standing next to me. “How are you doing bella?” Rossi asks concern etched on his face as he sets down a plate of freshly baked garlic bread.

I force a smile, trying to mask the hurt inside me. “I’m okay. Just… enjoying the night.” He gives me a knowing look, one that makes my heart sink a little. “You know I’m here for you, right? You don’t have to put on a brave face for me. And I know you’ll find someone, in fact they may be closer than you think.” I look at him confused. “Thanks, Rossi,” I reply, my voice soft. “I appreciate it.” I look back at Emily whose cheeks are now covered in a pink hue.

“What’s going on with you two?” I ask, raising an eyebrow playfully to mask my curiosity. She straightens up, her demeanour shifting. “Nothing! Just… a little wine, that’s all,” she stammers, glancing at the glass in her hand as if it holds all the answers. “Uh-huh, sure,” I tease.

After dinner we all begin to, wine is flowing a little more freely, and laughter filling the spaces between conversation. I catch JJ glancing at me more than once from across the living room, but I do my best to avoid her eyes, pretending to be focused on Emily’s story about some misadventure with Penelope. Eventually, JJ stands up “I’ll be right back,” she whispers to Spencer before making her way to the couch im seated on, and I feel the dread in my stomach grow as she walks towards me.

“Y/N?” JJ’s voice is gentle as she comes to stand by me. “Can we… talk for a second?” I hesitate, glancing at Emily, who gives me a subtle nod. I take a deep breath, then nod, standing up to follow JJ out of the living room and onto the back patio. The cool winds brushed me, I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself. 

“Y/N,” JJ begins softly, “I know I should’ve talked to you sooner. I just… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already have.” I blink back the sting of tears in my eyes, She takes a breath, “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. It just… did. And I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause you pain.” I nod slowly, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “I know, JJ,” I whisper, my voice softer than I expected. “But you did. You really hurt me.”

JJ’s face falls, and I can see the guilt in her eyes as she steps a little closer, her voice shaky. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. And you have every right to not forgive me or let me in your life. I care about you. You’re my family.”

I give her a small, sad smile. “That’s the thing, Jaje,” I say quietly. “You’re like my big sister. I’ve always looked up to you, trusted you. That’s why this hurts so much. I don’t know why you’d do this.”

She looks down, biting her lip as tears well up in her eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you,” she says again, her voice breaking. “It just… I don’t know how to explain it. Spencer and I, we just…”

I shake my head, cutting her off gently. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. These things happen, and I know you didn’t plan for it. But it still hurts, JJ.” Her shoulders sag, and I can see the weight of her guilt bearing down on her. “I know,” she whispers, tears spilling over. “And I wish I could take it back. I really do.” I reach out, placing my hands on her arms lightly, offering her an understanding look. “I can forgive you, JJ,” I tell her softly. “With time, I will. But right now… I just need space. I need time to heal.” JJ nods, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I understand. And I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could make it right.”

“I know you are,” I reply. “And I appreciate that you’re here, apologising. But it’s going to take time.” She sniffs, trying to compose herself. “If you ever want to talk, I’ll be here. I just want you to know that.”

I give her a small nod. “Thanks, JJ. You’ll always be my sister. No matter what. I love you.” JJ’s breath hitches at my words, her eyes widening in surprise. But as I pull her into a tight hug, I feel her tense body soften against mine, and she wraps her arms around me in return. “I love you too, Y/N,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I always will.” I give her a warm smile before returning to the group. 

—

It’s been a month since everything with Spencer and JJ. A long, painful month, but slowly, things have been getting easier. I’ve been spending more time with Emily lately. She’s been there for me, a constant source of support when I needed it most. What started as a few friendly drinks after work or late-night phone calls turned into something more, a connection I hadn’t realised was forming. 

Tonight, the team is out for drinks, one of those rare evenings where the case is over, and for once, we don’t have to rush off to the next one. The bar is lively, the music loud, and the energy infectious. Emily and I have been dancing for the past hour, laughing and letting loose. I haven’t felt this carefree in a long time. I step away from the dance floor for a second, and go to the table where Derek, Penelope, Aaron, Rossi, and Spencer were sat. Emily and JJ went to grab drinks. 

“So, you and Prentiss looked pretty cozy out there. Do I sense a relationship perhaps?” Derek teases me, nudging my shoulder with a playful grin, I roll my eyes, trying to play it off, but I can feel a blush creeping up my face. “Derek, it’s not like that,” I protest, though my voice betrays me. 

Penelope leans in, her eyes have a look of mischief. “Uh-huh, sure. You’ve been glued to each other all night. Just saying.” Even Hotch cracks a small smile, sipping his drink. “It’s been nice to see you so relaxed lately,” he says, with genuine warmth in his voice. I can’t help but smile back “I’m just enjoying the night, guys. And even if I like her, who says she likes me?” They all look at me in shock, “Y/n be serious for a second, she cant get enough of you. You guys are attached at the hip every second you’re together.” Penelope exclaimed, trying to convince me. “I- I don't know you guys…” I shake my head reluctantly, as Morgan is about to reply Emily and JJ come back with drinks for everyone. “What’re we talking about?” Emily asked as she slid into the booth next to me. “They’re being ridiculous as always and I kinda wanna leave…” I whispered the last part leaning into her shoulder. “Alright we can leave, ok you guys I think we’re done for the night. We're gonna head out!” I let out a breath of relief as we made our way out of the bar. 

Emily took my hand into hers shooting chills up my spine. I thought about Penelope and Derek’s words, could she really see me like that? Especially after seeing me and supporting my relationship with one of our mutual friends? As I was about to speak up Emily beat me to it. 

“You know, you're someone I look forward to seeing everyday Y/n.” The look in her eyes made my heart skip a beat. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, I swallowed, nervousness and excitement swirling inside me. “Emily…” I look down to hide the grin forming on my face. 

“And I don't want to rush you. I know this isn't where you thought you'd be but Y/n I- I like you a lot. And I underst-” she continued, but before she could finish I reached up pressing my lips against hers. 

Emily froze for a split second before melting into the kiss, her hand coming up to gently cup my face. The world seemed to stop as we stood there, wrapped in each other, my heart pounding in a way I hadn’t felt in so long. It felt like all the tension and unspoken words from the past few months were pouring out between us in that single, tender moment.

When we finally broke apart, she kept her forehead pressed to mine, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t think I’d be this lucky tonight.” I let out a shaky laugh, feeling a surge of emotions that I’d tried to ignore for so long. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again… but here you are.”

Emily smiled, her thumb brushing over my cheek as she pulled me close. “One step at a time, okay? We don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” I nodded, a wave of relief washing over me. “Yeah. I’d like that. One step at a time.”

(Spencer’s Pov)

I stepped out of the bar and caught sight of Y/N and Emily up ahead, walking together under the dim glow of the streetlights, her hand held in Emily’s. My heart clenched. Not being with her has been eating away at me, more than I wanted to admit. She was right about everything—how I took her for granted, how I’d let myself fall for JJ, that I lost sight of what really mattered.

Seeing her now, laughing softly with Emily, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. I’d tried to convince myself that walking away was for the best, that it would be easier on both of us, but watching her find happiness without me made it all feel final. She deserves someone who would make her feel seen, who wouldn’t let her slip through their fingers. And maybe Emily could be that person in a way I never could.

As they turned the corner, I hesitated, realising I didn’t have a reason to go after her anymore, and it ripped my heart out. 

“2 years, and 75 days…”

[simgerale]

arlie noticed that the christmas tree was still not decorated, and so she took it upon herself to finish the job... as well as spill wine all over her clothes

[talesofesther]

I'll crawl home to her

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Tales of Aemond's love for you.

A/N: In Ewan's words; the only thing that can beat Aemond is love. If you like this story, you'll like my ongoing series too. ;)

Masterlist

Aemond loves you behind closed doors.

He loves you with the way his pinky hooks around yours under the tables, during supper and council meetings.

He loves you with subtle looks and barely there smiles across rooms filled with people where he can only see you.

He loves you when he comes back tasting of heartache and guilt, with raindrops or tears staining his cold skin and clothes clinging to his body. When he stumbles into your room whispering sins against your embrace only for you to kiss the words, kiss his cheeks, kiss his scar, kiss the tears away. He clings to your body, your nightgown nearly ripping with his desperation.

But it's alright, because there's only you and him and the soft light of the candles in your room. It's alright because you cradle his head, fingertips burying between wet silver locks. It's alright because you whisper forgiveness into his ears, even if he feels undeserving.

And maybe war is now inevitable, but for a fraction of a moment, Aemond feels entirely at peace.

He loves you when you watch him from afar and notice the stiffness of his shoulders, the tapping of his fingers on the table. And then you'll find an excuse to call his name and get him away from the crowds, asking for some help with something mundane. You lace your fingers together, loose and yet so present. You take a familiar route through a lone hallway, you open the doors to the library hidden away in the confines of the Keep, pull him in, and close it again.

Aemond falls to you, his forehead is leaning against yours, his eye is closed, and he can breathe. You feel like fresh air. He nuzzles his nose to yours before asking for a kiss, it's all timid and bashful, he's not sure how to love yet, all he knows is that he feels it, insistent and warm; all-consuming.

But you hold his cheeks, you guide him, you teach him. Your fingers are in his hair and your soft lips touch the corner of his mouth; all delicate and devoted, Aemond doesn't know what to do with this much love, he might crumble.

His hands are around you, all over, and he's almost afraid to hurt you; even if you promise time and time again that he could never. Aemond sighs against your lips, and it sounds a lot like; "I am yours."

He loves you because there is no need for words with you. When he holds himself back from going to you all day—between planning for a war he's fighting alone and hearing his own mother talk of him as if he were a monster—the arrival of the night feels like a reprieve. It's the moment he waits for the most, for he can lay down his armor.

Aemond walks by the garden, picking up a single blue flower. He hides it away as he walks to your chambers, no one needs to know—even if everyone already knows anyway. He gives you the blue flower, with pink on his cheeks; he feels like a young boy in love—perhaps he is.

You kiss him, sweet and soft and tasting like the blueberries you stole from the kitchen earlier. And Aemond could cry, because if he has you, he's not alone.

You're the one who takes off his eyepatch, and then his coat, and his pants, and pulls loose his hair—you brush your lips over his shoulders when you do it, and he knows no one could love him the way you do. There's nothing sexual about it even if you're the muse of all his desires. He simply lays with you in bed, his head on your chest, and you trace the outlines of his body as you speak about your day. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he loves to hear you speak, about anything and everything, it soothes his troubled soul.

It's quiet, and Aemond falls asleep with the feeling of you braiding his hair. It'll be a little curly in parts when morning comes. He never minds it.

And he loves you with the way he won't be able to speak the three words. But he'll trace and kiss them on your skin every single night. And you understand, because you always say them back.

He loves you because of the way you sometimes hold the tip of his fingers with yours behind your backs.

He loves you with the way he'll threaten death to anyone who looks at you wrong.

He loves you with the way he could burn the whole world and yet not let a single flame touch your skin.

He loves you because you'll kiss his lips even if he tastes of blood and war.

He loves you because you'll hold his pieces together when everyone else is trying to tear him apart.

He loves you because even in the darkest of days, you're always there in the end.

He loves you because even if you exchange nothing but glances when amidst other people, you'll embrace his very soul in private.

He loves you because you wait with bathed breath when he takes Vhagar to the skies, and never think twice about mounting on a horse to gallop towards the woods outside of King's Landing when you spot the dragon's large silhouette bringing him back.

You jump from the white horse, Aemond jumps from Vhagar, and you meet each other in the middle. He holds you close in a needy embrace, as if each minute could be the last. And when you pull back, you don't ask questions or make demands, you simply run your thumbs over his cheekbones and breathe easiness into his skin. The feeling of you is always like coming home.

Amidst a world of war, you're a safe haven.

He loves you because you are the one who taught him what love feels like.

Aemond loves you behind closed doors. Wholly, truly, passionately. And with all of him that no one else is allowed to see.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Aemond's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐎 ✮ FRANCO COLAPINTO

summary. you hated franco for stealing your friend’s seat not knowing that it’d lead to a night of regret.

warnings. enemies to fwb’s, p in v, semi public s3x, major plot twist at the end, & cheating. franco & reader match each other’s FREAK! 18+

a/n. gif by argentinagp! i love latinos!

YOU HAD PROMISED everyone on the paddock that you wouldn’t judge the new driver too quickly. The week leading up to his arrival had been spent reminding yourself that he didn’t steal Logan’s seat on purpose yet you were still mad. You had grown quite fond of the american over the past months and losing a friend had made you bitter. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame Logan for losing his seat so you resorted to the newly arrived brunette.

“He doesn’t bite.” Alex whispers as he notices the glare you’re sending the brunette.

“But he scavenges.” You murmur as the press surrounds the rookie.

“It’s not like he killed Logan.” Alex scoffs.

He didn’t but it felt like he had. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way the media had already forgotten about your friend and put Franco on a pedestal. He had just arrived a day ago and already he was flaunting himself as the next Hamilton reincarnate. You turn around too frustrated with yourself for hating him when you didn’t even know him.

“Hola.” A thick accent interrupts your thoughts. You hesitantly turn around only to be met with the guy who took your best friend away. “Those colors don’t suit you.”

“Excuse me?” You replied shockingly wondering where his sense of entitlement came from.

“Ah, lo siento. I meant blue would look better on you.” His cheeks change hues realizing his words came out wrong.

“It would If I cared about Williams.” You smile sarcastically watching as his smile falters. “I’ve gotta go but score at least one point, yeah?”

Franco stays still in disbelief wondering if his comment on your clothes had completely pissed him off. Was his english really that bad? Did he come off too strong? He wondered if the rest of the paddock would hate him or if he was just overreacting.

“Don’t worry about her mate. She’s very reluctant to new people. Give her time.” Alex shrugs.

As the weekend progresses you spend your time between the Alpine garage and the trailers. You were lucky Alex and Lily had agreed to spend the whole weekend with you. You stared at the street as Leo climbed into your lap making you pet him. Practice had just started and you couldn’t help but keep a close eye on Williams. You had began to mindlessly rant to your friends over your encounter with the rookie and how it would most likely take him months to replace Logan.

“When this weekend is over I’m taking you with me to workout because you need to relieve that anger.” Lily laughs.

“No, seriously. You’re acting like he’s committed first degree murder when he had nothing to do with Logan leaving.” Alex sounds concerned.

“Look, I know I sound crazy but I swear there’s something off about him. Plus, y’all do remember the comment he made about me right?” You tried to validate yourself.

“English isn’t his first language it was an honest mistake. Either way he just took that Williams to Q1.” Lily motions towards the screen.

“Whatever. Are we all still on for Sunday?” You asked referring to the plans the drivers had made after the race.

“Obviously. Although we may need to monitor you all night to make sure you don’t damage the new rookie.” The two of them laugh as you sit there annoyed.

The sun was beginning to set as you made your way back to the Alpine garage. Your short white dress was the perfect outfit to keep you cool during the blazing heat of the summer. You were excited to spend the afternoon debriefing with Pierre until you run head first into someone. You try to balance yourself by holding yourself against their chest and as you slowly bring your head up you brace yourself for the apology you’re about to make. But then you see his face and that apology never makes it out your mouth.

“Do you not watch where you’re going?” You scoff at the Williams driver.

“I do. I do it very good actually. Or I wouldn’t be here.” He jokes. “It was you who couldn’t see well or else you would’ve seen me.”

“You’re quite full of yourself aren’t you.” You murmur as you fix your dress.

“People pay me to drive of course I am.” He pulls his sunglasses out his face to look at you directly. He has a glint of confidence in his eye and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his ego.

The two of you stood there alone as practice was long over and the drivers had gone back to their trailers to wind down. Your friends were probably going to ask you why you were late and you couldn’t bear the thought to tell them that you’d gotten into another argument with the rookie. You would get teased for it until the season ended.

“You know this whole hating me thing because you think I stole your friend’s seat, when he lost it because he wasn’t good enough, is so hot.” He smirks.

Any quick remarks you once had were now completely forgotten. His words completely took you by surprise and now you were just confused. Had he taken your witty words as flirting? Had you mistakenly led him on? Or was he just being a prick?

“Though, you could put that mouth to better use.” He says loud enough so only you can hear.

Your cheeks heat up at his comment and you can’t help but feel flustered at his words. Suddenly even the short dress you were wearing wasn’t enough to keep you cool. You instinctively bite your lip as you try to think of anything to say to him but you’re utterly speechless. He’s finally gotten under your skin and he hasn’t even raced yet.

“There’s something genuinely wrong with you.” You say.

“Adiós nena.” He smiles at you before wandering off leaving you all alone to process what had just happened.

The rest of the walk to the Alpine garage is awkward and quick. You try your best to store the encounter with Franco in the back of your mind. You do a bad job at it because his words echo in your mind for the rest of the day. You don’t tell anyone what happened that day because it was weird and also you weren’t even sure what had happened that day.

It’s finally race day and you brush off your white skirt as you walk towards the paddock. You’d meet the girls in the Ferrari garage as Charles had wanted to surprise Alex with a girl’s day. You kept your hands above your eyes to protect them from the sun while subtly trying to ignore the camera flashes headed towards you. As you approach the garages you pause for a little. It had become a tradition for you to greet Alex before any race, a superstition that began when Pierre won the Italian Grand Prix, but now you were hesitant to visit the Williams garage.

You sighed coming up with the decision that an awkward conversation with the Argentine rookie shouldn’t stop you from visiting one of your closest friends. You do a 180° heading straight for the garage. It’s a short walk due to you walking as fast as possible to Alex’s booth. The engineer’s greet you already recognizing your face from the past couple of races. There’s a huge group of familiar faces in the room except the Thai. Your eyes drift around hoping to find him so you’re not late to meet up with your friends but you can’t find Alex anywhere.

“He’s with Lily.” A voice spooks you.

“Franco.” you sigh. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here. The real question should be why are you here?” His condescending tone irks you as he plasters that dumb smirk on his face.

“That’s none of your business.” You reply. “Tell Alex I was looking for him. I’ll be on my way now.”

He grabs your wrist before you can turn on your heels stopping you. You’re now completely face to face with him that you can practically feel his body warmth.

“Something tells me you came looking for me using your friend as an excuse.” He says below a whisper.

“Did your parents teach you that the world revolves around you? Has it ever occurred to you that you are not as important as you think you are?” You scoff. “I’m here for Alex and I would be here for Logan too but you ruined that.”

“Ay, boluda.” He laughs in disbelief. “It seems the only condescending person here is you because guess what? I earned this seat. My parents sold our house so I could be here meanwhile your little friend just spent his trust fund and wasted it.”

You run out of remarks at that. You’d spent all this summer terrorizing him unaware of who Franco really was. Although you weren’t going to apologize, you were too proud for that.

“It’s okay though I wouldn’t expect for a pretty dumb little thing like you to get it.” His voice goes hoarse. Your mind goes blank at his words unable to register his hand ending up on your waist pushing you into him.

Those are the last words he says to you before he abruptly pulls away leaving you alone to process the encounter. Your hand instinctively goes to the necklace on your neck caressing it as you try to regain your breath. You can feel how warm your cheeks are and instantly feel embarrassed at the weird tingly feeling in your stomach. Most importantly you couldn’t believe that out of all the people here Franco is the one who put you in this state.

“Oh, good you’re here! Hopefully I’ll get points today because of you.” Alex smiles at you.

“Go crush them. I have to go though have to meet Gasly before the race. You know go over his strategy for the race.” You stammer trying to find an out of the Williams garage.

“Yeah mhm.” He waves you off. “The two of you better show up to the party! Last one before the break!”

The Ferrari garage erupts into cheers as Charles makes it on the podium again. Alexandria and Lily both scream into your ear as both their boyfriends score points for their teams. Meanwhile you stare blankly as the screen as it shows both Alpine cars outside of the points. Then as if the Universe was making fun of you, Franco shows up on the screen celebrating his P8. You hated him, you hated his confidence, you hated the way he took Logan away from you, but most importantly you hated him because the sweaty messy hair he was showing off made you weak. Your mind instantly replayed this morning’s conversation and you found yourself dizzy.

“Are you okay? Is it cuz you guys didn’t get any points today?” Lily tries to console you.

“No, it’s not that.” You give her a fake smile. “This whole weekend has been kind of too much for me and I think I’m starting to feel the effects. I’m gonna go to the trailers but I’ll see y’all at the party later?”

“Feel better love! Wear something slutty!” Alexandria yells as you walk off.

The pink dress you had picked out for tonight was beginning to annoy you. It was incredibly short so you didn’t know if you should pull it up or down. And knowing Franco would be there made you overthink your idea not wanting to give him the impression that you had dressed up for him. You internally roll your eyes at yourself for even thinking about changing clothes because of a man. That wasn’t you. The effects of the rookie began to scare you.

You don’t waste anymore time heading out the suite and straight to your Uber. It was a short drive and the bouncer didn’t last long finding your name on the list. Lily and Alexandria immediately started screaming at the sight of you and welcomed you into the round table. Most of the drivers were still at the track recovering from their race so thankfully you sat next to Lily with no one to your right. You hoped Alex would hurry up so you’d get to gossip with your friend.

“That rookie ended up with points. I think your hate fueled him.” Lily teases you.

“Are we really going to talk about him, right now?” You sigh.

“He proved you wrong of course we’re gonna talk about it.” She says

“It was pure luck.” You spit out unaware of the brunette walking towards your table.

“What was?” The familiar voice makes you shiver. Lily can’t help but laugh as how wide your eyes go. You slowly turn around to meet the guy that had been torturing you this whole weekend.

“Oh, nothing-” Lily tries to save you.

“Your race today. It was pure luck.” You say defiantly being too stubborn to retract your words.

“Pure luck?” He repeats in disbelief.

“She didn’t mean it-” Lily tries to come to your rescue again.

“Oh, no. I meant it. He’ll be ending up P12 in the next races. I guarantee you won’t see anymore points after this. You’re just here on a test drive and then? Every one will forget you were ever here.” You take a swig of your drink. You don’t even register the malice behind your words being too heated to even comprehend what you’re saying.

His face heats up and his cheeks change hues as he registers your words. You blink and he’s gone. He wanders off to who knows where and it’s then that you register what you’ve told him. You warm up and suddenly you’re dizzy.

“What the fuck?” Lily whispers. “You better go find him and apologize.”

“He started it!” You whine.

“No, you did. You’ve hated him since he arrived when he’s done nothing to you.” Her words make you feel bad. “Now, go find him.”

You stand up adjusting your dress as you scan around the club looking for him. You wander off in hopes of finding him before he leaves. Why was it so hard to find a tall brunette in a crowd of average height people? You give up after five minutes resorting to asking the bartender if he’d seen your ‘friend’ and suddenly you found yourself outside. Franco is leaning against the wall looking at his phone but he’s wearing glasses now.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” You squeak afraid that you’d scare him off.

He looks up at you not saying a single word. Your presence pisses him off and he starts to walk away. You follow him to the back of the bar stopping him before the two of you got lost.

“Look, I didn’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” You play with the hem of your dress being too afraid to look at him.

“Did he fuck you good?” His face is stern.

“W-what?” His words catch you off guard. The temperature around you somehow getting warmer.

“Logan. Did he fuck you good?” He asks again with a meaner tone. “That’s why you’re mad at me, right?”

What you and Logan did behind closed doors was private, something no one else knew. Something you thought the two of you had managed to keep in secrets. Your cheeks flare up at Franco’s discovery. Were you really so bad at hiding your secrets? If he knew then who else did? You were fucked.

“Franco you don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try so hard to lie. His smirk makes it known that he doesn’t believe you.

One minute you’re lying to his face and the other he’s right in front of you eyeing you down. You can practically feel his body warmth as he invaded your personal space. He had one upped you, again. The innocent facade he had in front of your friends was completely gone.

“Ay, que linda que sos.” His thumb traces your cheek. The touch lingers, your cheeks heating up at the contact. “You’re such a terrible liar.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you, you know that?” You barely say above a whisper.

“No, there’s something wrong with us.” His hand travels down your cheek to your neck.

That last word throws you off because it’s true, the indescribable pull you felt to him was insane, the two of you were insane. You were tired. You were tired of hiding secrets, Franco’s personality, but most importantly you were tired of pretending. Pretending that you didn’t want Franco. So, you do what you do best when you’re tired. You relieve yourself. You pull Franco by the shirt and kiss him ignoring the feel of his glasses hitting your face. He quickly turns the two of you around your back hitting the wall allowing for balance.

The two of you barely pull apart for air losing yourselves in the kisses. His brunette curls find their way into your fingers while his hands sit perfectly on your waist. The kiss grows heated as you pull him closer to you, feeling him. His hand begins to wander down your thighs, pulling them apart and wrapping your leg around his waist. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the new position and then you remember that your friends were still waiting for you.

“Franco, wait.” You groan.

“What? What happened?” He pulls away quickly.

“Everyone else is still waiting for us. You need to be…” You pause debating if this was really a good idea but had anything you’d done lately been a good idea? “Quick.”

He takes that as a challenge immediately pulling you in for a kiss again. The kiss is messy and needy with your hands in his hair and his hands massaging the inside of your thighs. The cool breeze hitting your exposed skin as he lifted your dress up. The roughness of the wall is soon forgotten as he brings his fingers down to your thighs, gliding them teasingly before placing them on your clothed core.

You can’t resist the groans that escape your throat as his cold fingers come in contact with your core. It’d been many weekends since anyone had touched you like this. He swallows your noises with his mouth as he kisses you. Your hands grip his arms as he begins to move his fingers around your folds, spreading your wetness. You remember that it’s been a while since the two of you walked outside and pull his fingers away.

“Franco. We don’t have time.” You gasp in between kisses.

He picks you up adjusting you against the wall while you dig your hands into the hem of his boxers. It doesn’t take long for your hands to venture down and feel him. Your stomach flutters at his size and how he feels. He quickly pulls you away before placing his tip near your entrance. Your morals long gone you grind on him wanting to feel anything. It’s pathetic the way you’ve gone from wanting him out of the sport to wanting him inside you and he notices it too by the way he smirks at you.

You’re about to lash out when he starts entering you slowly. If it wasn’t for him holding you then you’d have lost your balance already at the intrusion. He stills himself waiting for you to adjust to the new feeling. When he notices that you’re ready he pulls out before thrusting back into you, this time filling you to the hilt. It was almost as if he fit perfectly inside you.

“Fuck.” He groans as he fills you completely.

You’re not quite sure anyone’s ever felt so disgusting. You don’t even try to contain your moans as he continuously thrusts into you at a fervent pace. He feels so good inside you hitting spots no one else had before. His fingers leave mark on your hips as you take him fully. He looks down to where the two of you are connected and audibly groans at how well you’re taking him.

“Oh my god.” You whine as he increases his speed.

His hands come back done to your folds rubbing them in circles as he tries to pleasure you even more. Your hand joins his showing him where you need him the most. You can feel your slick coating his dick as he rubbed you. You begin to feel a familiar knot in your stomach as he fucks you into the wall. His hand cups your jaw as he pulls you into a long sloppy kiss.

It doesn’t take long after for you to come undone around him, your walls squeezing him as you reach your peak. He won’t last long with the feeling of you milking him. Soon enough he’s coming inside you, his warm cum filling you up. The sight of the two of you is disgusting and nasty.

The two of you break away from each other and catch your breaths. You lower your dress back down while Franco takes his glasses off to clean them. You check yourself for any runny mascara, or smudge lipstick, and even run your hands through your hair making sure you don’t look insane.

“We should head inside.” You murmur.

“We’re not gonna talk about this?” He scoffs.

“There’s nothing to talk about Franco. At least not know when everyone’s waiting for us.” You scold him. “We’ll talk next weekend.”

You head towards the bathroom first, Franco surprisingly waiting for you outside. The two of you walk in within a minute difference a smile adorning both your faces. At least until you spot Pierre next to Lily and you’re brought back to reality. You don’t waste time running towards the frenchman hugging him as you sit right next to him. Franco can’t help but stare at you in confusion as he notices Pierre’s hand trail too far down when hugging you. But then he spots it. Pierre wearing an identical necklace to yours but instead of a P it adorned your initial. His eyes go wide.

“I see you and my girlfriend have finally made up.” Pierre greets him.

“Your girlfriend?” His demeanor changes with the news. “I didn’t know.”

Pierre begins to explain how the two of you don’t like to be very public about your relationship. You can visibly see the moment in which Franco’s face goes pale. The next few weeks for you are hard racing between the Alpine garage and your girlfriends. Not to mention the quick pit stops to the Williams garage to wish Alex good luck. It’s a shame you get very little time with the rookie but he makes it work. In the end you really hope he doesn’t get a seat for next year, you can’t keep doing this.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 9

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 10 is here.

"I think you should take off your veil now. You need to impress the princes so that one of them could take pity and marry you. Or you could try black magic-"

"Baris, I will pull your tongue out and strangle you with it if you say another word." You muttered, holding your head in your hands.

After Baris landed the "marriage bomb" on you last night, you've been stressed. Why did I have to teach Mihirmah? Why did I have to accept the bracelet? Why did I-

"You have bags under your eyes, and considering that they're the only feature visible, its not good-" You threw a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. You hadnt slept at all, how could you? You tried to figure out a plan, that didnt work. You tried to fix your time machine, that was not going to work at all without tools.

"You could be wrong." You mumbled, opening your eyes as you stared ahead. "This bracelet could be nothing but just a kind gesture. It is not a marriage proposal. You're wrong-"

Baris cut you off. "I know it seems impossible, considering how you look, even I'm surprised- but I'm never wrong, Y/n. I've worked here for more 25 years, I know what everyone thinks." You stared at him with a pinched expression.

"You have to help me, Baris."

He smiled. "Of course, you'd be lost cause else wise! I'll get the seamstress to make you some new clothes-"

"No, I meant- you have to help me escape. I cant- I dont want to get married!"

He scoffed. "Darling, we're alone right now. You can drop the "I dont wanna marry a prince and enjoy the luxuries of the world" act."

"I mean it!" You huff.

"And why is that?"

"Because-" you bit your lip. What excuse can you possibly come up with to satisfy him?

"I love someone else."

"How tragic." He said monotonously. "Love has no place in the harem. You're here to attract, serve and please the royal family." He walked closer to you, leaning down as he lowered his volume. "And I'm going to give you some advice: you better not use that excuse again, never even MUMBLE about having a lover again, not unless you want to be tortured and executed for being a traitor."

You knew what he was referring to. The harem, the concubines, the whole palace was filled with jealousy. If anyone were to hear about this, they would use it against you, conjure up such vulgar lies that the sultan will chop off your head.

"Baris I cant-"

"You dont have a choice, Y/n." He cut you off harshly. "I suggest you suck it up and pretend to be happy or else you'll be in for a hard life."

"Now, get ready. You need to teach a lesson."

-

"You look sick."

You resist rolling your eyes. "Yes, I know I'm ugly. Thank you for keeping me updated."

Mihirmah shook her head. "No, I mean you dont look well. Are you alright?"

No, I lost sleep because of you and-

"Just tired, Mihirmah. I think we've should stop here today." You watched her beam.

"Finally! Now we can celebrate!" Mihirmah clapped her hands as the servants brought in some tea and sweets. She had initially wanted to celebrate her victory from last night as soon as you came in, but you wanted to get the lesson done with so that you could leave.

"You enjoy it. You did a good job." You tried to excuse herself but she frowned.

"I did. And so did you! I mean, the way you made Mahidevran shut up! It was amazing!" She took a piece of sweet and handed it to you. "Besides, my father appreciated your efforts as well-"

You looked down at the bracelet. This was more of a death sentence than a gift.

"Mihirmah." You took off your bracelet. "I- I appreciate the sultan's gift, but I cant accept this. Its too much- its-" you mentally rolled your eyes at your next excuse. "Its above me."

She furrowed her brows. "Even if that may be the case, which its not because you fully deserve that after the showdown, you still cannot refuse or return a sultan's gift, much less one that he made himself!" She tilted her head. "What is really going on? Why do you not want the bracelet? And dont say its not to your taste, because lets face it- you probably have not seen jewels like this in your life."

Biting the inside of your cheek to prevent the insults from slipping out, you took a breath.

"I... heard that..." you took another breath. How do you say "I dont want the bracelet because I dont wanna marry any of your brothers" without sounding narcissistic. "I... I heard that there might be a different meaning behind the bracelet. That it may signify... something else."

"Which is...?" She prompted you.

You exhaled.

"That I might be considered to be... a spouse for a sehzade."

Mihirmah snorted as you looked down to conceal both your embarrassment and fear.

"I'm sorry- what did you say?" She was laughing now. You continued to look down. As long as she's laughing and not getting mad at you for even suggesting such a thing, you're fine. Besides, if she's laughing then it means that all that bullshit Baris was spewing earlier was just that- bullshit.

"You think- my father, the sultan, wants you- YOU, to marry one of his sons?" She wiped a tear away from her eye as she laughed. "That is the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard. True, father does only give handmade gifts to those he considers close, but I dont think thats true in your case, Y/n. You're just my teacher, that's all. Besides, even if you were to be considered as a potential spouse for my brothers, you have my mother and Mahivdevran standing in your way. And trust me, they're going to marry their sons to someone they like. You- they cant even tolerate you as my teacher at this point of time."

Sighing in relief, you nod. "Well, that's great to hear-"

"Wait." Mihirmah narrows her eyes at you. "If you thought that my father wanted to marry you to one of his sons, why did you want to return the bracelet? Did you- did you not want to marry my brother?"

Oh shit. "Mihirmah no-" You tried to pacify her.

But she snapped at you. "What? You think you're better than my brothers? Any of them? You'd be lucky if Mehmed or Mustafa chose you, if such a miracle does happen."

Your eyes were wide at her venomous tone. You dont know whether it was because she was protective of her brothers, or if she just really hated the idea that you would consider rejecting royalty.

A few more moments of silence went by. "You misunderstand me, sultana." You chose her title to please her. "I know of my status, and I am well aware of how... lowly I am to be a part of this family. The only reason I was returning the bracelet was because... I didnt want the harem to assume things and threaten or hurt me. I am aware that the sehzade have their favourite concubines, much better equipped to their tastes. But if they were to see this bracelet gifted by the sultan on me, they would... it would cause misunderstandings. I just wanted to avoid that."

Your words were carefully selected to not aggravate her any further, which it didnt but they also didnt calm her down.

Mihirmah's face was still sour. "The concubines are smart enough to figure out who's a competition and who's just a mere servant. You have nothing to worry about."

The words stung but... you just bowed and took your leave instead of slapping her across the face.

Mehmed had just turned the corner when he saw you leaving Mihirmah's room with tears pooling in your eyes, the niqaab only causing them to look more prominent.

He entered Mihirmah's room, finding his sister looking angry as she gazed into space.

"Mihirmah?" He sat down beside her, noticing how she didnt immediately light up as she always did when he came. What did you do to piss her off so much?

He cupped her face to look at him. "What's wrong? Tell me."

-

You're laying in your bed, arm over your eyes as you try to think of a way out of here.

When will the time machine work again?

Its not like you can go out of the palace to get help or even tools to work on it, and you always fear that someone just may walk in on you tinkering with the machine. The only place where you can get privacy in this palace here is the dungeons, only because its dark and oh-so-daunting that it doesnt really attract people there.

There's a knock on your door. With a grunt, you get up and open the door, only to find no one there. Your room was in the harem, but it was on the upper floor, so you could see the whole area from above, including the silhouette of someone leaving the harem doors.

Normally, you wouldn't have bothered with the "door bell pranks", but you made your way down because 1. you're not familiar with what this might mean, maybe some royal summoned you and you're to follow the servant. 2. you're bored.

When you left the harem and looked to your left, spotting the back of a girl in red dress, you knew she was baiting you to follow her. So you did, turning around the corridor only to be body slammed to the wall.

3 women surround you, blocking any escape routes. They're all glaring at you, and you recognise their faces. They're the concubines.

You clear your throat. "Well? I suppose you have something to say that you couldnt say in there."

The brunette in front of you narrows her eyes. "Who do you think you are?"

"Why dont you tell me?"

Her glare intensifies. "You think you can just bat your lashes and whore yourself to the sehzade?"

"Heh?"

The raven haired girl on her right grabbed your throat and banged your head against the wall behind. "Dont play dumb! We know you're trying to marry the prince!"

The blonde on the left banged your head against the wall this time, gritting out "Stay away from sehzade Mustafa!"

"And sehzade Mehmed!" the brunette warned, repeating the same assault as the other two.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you rubbed the sore spot on the back of your head. "None of your accusations are true. Unlike you, I actually have a respectable job here-"

"We saw the bracelet! You think you can just prance around here, pretending to be this holy and pure, untainted girl while we work ourselves to the bone to get in bed?!" The brunette screamed at you, getting in your face.

You pushed her away. "First of all, I am not interested in marrying anyone. Secondly, the bracelet means nothing than a job well done. And finally- you seem to mistake your status over me. I dont work for you, or under you. So, this is for earlier-" You slapped her hard across the face, making her fall. The other two were in shock, and you took that as an opputunity to slap them too.

"Now, we're even." You huffed, adjusting your niqaab before turning on your heel to leave. You needed to slap them, not only because you need to let them know they cant bully you, but also because you needed to release some steam. It felt good, you wont lie. You may have even imagined some people's faces as you smacked them-

"Omph!" You're pushed to the ground, flipped over onto your back. You grab on to the hands that are wrapped around your neck, eyes wide as the brunette starts to choke you.

"You stupid bitch!" She screamed as you fought hard to pull her hands away. She yanked the veil off your face, smacking your cheek hard enough to scratch you with her sharp nails.

"Laira stop-" the blonde tried to pull her off you but Laira continued to beat you.

"Hand me the torch!"

"Laira-" The blonde started again but the raven haired grabbed the fire sconce off the wall and handed it to Laira.

You stared in horror as she brought the torch closer to your face, the heat radiating. She grinned manically, one hand still squeezing your throat.

"You're not even that pretty for a sehzade. Did you use black magic on them?" She clicked her tongue, while your eyes were fixated on the torch. "I guess, it wont be futile to ruin your face for guarantee."

"Please no-" she choked you harder with her man hands that you just couldnt seem to pry off, and you sort of became paralysed as the dancing flames took you back to the night in the desert, when the assassins set your tent on fire. Everything slowed down, and noise drowned out like in the movies.

Salauddin. Help-

The flames suddenly vanish from your view as Laira is thrown off you.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" The man roared behind you. Your eyes moved from the shaking concubines to your saviour.

Ibrahim pasha.

"Pasha bey-"

"Shut it. Guards! Throw them to the dungeons!" Ibrahim yelled and automatically, 4 Janisarries appeared from behind him and dragged the wailing girls away.

Ibrahim looks down at you, his eyes shifting from rage to sympathy. He crouches down and helps you sit up, his touch gentle.

"Are you alright, Hatun Y/n?" You're staring at him in a daze, your body has not recovered enough to physically react, almost on autopilot.

Say something.

"Y/n?" He asks again, his brows furrowing as his concern deepens. Why does everything sound so far, so low?

He snaps his fingers near your ear, and your brain finally reacts.

"Y-yes." You tear your gaze away, looking at the fire torch lying on the ground far from you.

Fire. Second time you were almost burnt to death.

"Come on." He helps you up, gently tugging you to follow him. A few shaky steps later, you follow him to your room.

He sat you down on the bed. "There we go." Ibrahim pasha scanned your face for any burns or injuries, noting the nail marks from the slap.

"Baris Agha!" Ibrahim called and a few seconds later, the eunuch stumbled in.

"Yes, pasha- ya Allah, what happened to-"

"Baris." Ibrahim snapped at him. "Get me bandages and healing balm. And keep quiet about this." Baris only nodded before following orders.

You cleared your throat. "I... thank you for saving me, pasha." Ibrahim smiled courteously as he sat on a chair nearby.

"It was my duty. Sultan Suleiman had asked me to keep an eye on you."

Your brows furrowed. "Why?"

Ibrahim looked at the bracelet around your wrist. "I suppose you did something to make him pleased."

He relaxed in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "So... what happened with the concubines?"

"Misunderstanding." You said dismissively.

"And what that might be?" He prodded. When you didnt reply, he sighed. "I am the pasha, the sultan's right hand. I am supposed to know what happens in the palace."

"Its nothing of significance. You can let the girls out of the dungeon."

"I'm afraid that decision is not upto you." Ibrahim deadpanned. "If you do not wish to tell me, fine. I have other ways of finding out." He made his threat clear and began standing up.

"Wait!" You clenched your niqaab, looking at the veil in your lap. "I'll tell you, but... you cant tell anyone."

Ibrahim stared at you before nodding, sitting back down.

"There may have been a rumour... the cocncubines- they think that the bracelet, a gift from the sultan means that I am... special." You mumbled the last word.

"Special how?"

"They think... that the sultan wants me to be his... daughter-in-law. Actually, they think that I am wooing the sehzades- Mustafa and Mehmed."

"And are you?" He asks immeadiately.

"Of course not!"

"Why not? Anyone would love to marry a prince."

You scoffed. "I would never want to be a part of this family, not even as a teacher."

He raised a brow. "Hate the Ottomans?" You shake your head. "No. But I wouldn't want to be a part of it." You clicked your tongue. "Everyone in this palace is a slave. The concubines, the servants, the wives, the kids, you and me too. The wives of the sultan, they have all the luxuries one could imagine... except for the loyalty of their husband. Not to mention, they have to live in constant fear of being replaced and be in paranoia forever because everyone who is not family, is a threat to her. The kids? If you're born a boy, sure- you are immediately given a superior status, but with such power and princely status also comes with its own drawbacks. The boy will have to always be compete with his brothers, not because he wants to be the next sultan, but for survival."

In Ottoman empire, there was a common practice of fratricide- a tradition where once the next sultan is chosen, the new sultan is allowed LEGALLY to kill his brothers, stepbrothers, nephews and even female relatives (sisters included) as well, so as to get rid of any future competition or betrayal by his own family. In a nutshell, it was done to prevent civil wars.

"If you're born as a girl, then you may have a better chance of survival than your brothers, but that's still not guaranteed. Not to mention, you are raised to be married off to someone that will strengthen the royal family. Not to someone you love." Ibrahim watched you as you continued. "Its not better to be a servant either. Always being threatened, questioned about your loyalty, having to take the fall for the higher ups. The eunuchs, who think they are all high and mighty and control the court, you and I both know that their job to "protect the women of the harem" wasnt even their choice. To be forcefully castrated as children, forcefully ripped from their families, forced to serve the royals... they dont have a choice. I dont have to tell you how degrading it is to be a concubine."

"And me? How am I a slave?" Ibrahim asked.

You smiled sadly. "You know very well, and youre just trying to see how much I know. Your past is not a well kept secret, pasha." You kept quiet, and Ibrahim realised you already knew about his life.

Ibrahim, born as Orthodox Christian, was enslaved during his childhood. He and Suleiman became close friends in their youth, or perhaps forced to convert to Islam and then raised to befriend Suleiman. Suleiman appointed Ibrahim as grand vizier when he took the throne.

"How do you know?" Ibrahim's gaze was sharp. "I know a lot of things, pasha. But dont worry, I have no ill intent. If anything, I want to be as far from this life as possible. Perhaps... you could help me with that?"

He raised a brow. "I dont think that is an option for you right now." At your frown, he explained. "The safest place for a woman like you is here."

"Did you just forget that my face was almost burned off moments ago?"

He chuckled, shaking his hand. "Of course not. But you need to understand that you cannot just up and go without a word, especially after the sultan just gave you a handmade gift, and whether or not it signifies that he's considered you for one of his sons, it does mean that he considers you important. His majesty will not just accept your leave for no reason." Ibrahim leaned forward, clasping his hands. "As for your safety, you can leave that to me. I will make sure no harm befalls you again. I promise."

"But what about the sehzade? The rumours?"

He hummed thoughtfully. "If you're so concerned about that matter, then you should just avoid the princes as much as you can. Keep your niqaab on, continue your lessons with the princess and avoid interacting with people as much as you can."

Well, its not a bad suggestion. If you make yourself scarce and draw less attention to yourself, you can slip out of the palace and leave unnoticed.

"Oh, pasha?" You called him as he stood up to leave. "Can I request you not to tell about this incident to anyone?" You pointed to bruises on your face.

He grinned and nodded. "Of course. But it is not me you should be worried about talking." At your confused face, he chuckled.

"Baris Agha still hasnt returned."

-

Mihirmah and Mehmed were in your room just a few moments after Ibrahim pasha had fetched the bandages from below and treated your wounds, further confirming that Baris was spreading the news about your attack all over the palace.

"Y/n! Who did this to you?" Mihirmah traced the bruises gently as she sat beside you on the bed, while Mehmed sat in front of you, on the seat previously occupied by Ibrahim pasha- just closer this time.

"I dont know." You lied, pulling yourself away from Mihirmah's concerned touches. Oh you're still mad at her.

Your evasiveness didnt go unnoticed by her, as she dropped her hand and her mouth settled into a thin grim line.

"Why did someone attack you? What happened?" Mehmed asked, cutting the tension.

You shrugged. "I dont know." You fiddled with the niqaab in your lap. There's a big bandage on your cheeks, so while you couldnt exactly wear your veil again, you suppose in a way your face was somewhat covered?

"Probably mistook me for someone else. Or just a misunderstanding." You tried to brush this off.

"Still, it shouldnt warrant such a reaction. We should investigate-" Mehmed started but you shook your head.

"Ibrahim pasha is already looking into the matter. He'll take care of it-"

"I am the sehzade. I will look into this personally." Mehmed stated before leaving the room before anyone could stop him. Ah, to be the knight in shinning armour for a distressed damsel.

You and Mihirmah sat alone now. The air in the room was thick, the silence thicker. Mihirmah glanced at your nonchalant face, your eyes fixated on the ground, not caring how uncomfortable the silence was making the princess.

It was clear she had to break the ice.

"Y/n." She called. "Yes, sultana?" You answered, but your eyes still remained on the ground.

Sultana. Not Mihirmah, like she'd allowed you to call her, but sultana.

She pursed her lips. "I..." She paused. What is she supposed to say? Sorry? The word is as foreign to her as it is to any royal.

"I dont like the things you said this morning." She finally stated. "You shouldnt have said those things."

You resisted the urge to scoff. Is she really trying to pin this on you and make you apologise? Entitled brat-

"You're right, sultana. I was out of line. I suggest we should just stick to our lessons and avoid talking about anything else. I'll be careful not to bring up any other topic." You stated monotonously.

Mihirmah frowned. Why are you saying this? Why are you being so difficult?

"Stop it." She warned. You nodded. "As you wish, sultana. I'll arrange another Quran teacher for you." Your words only enraged her further.

"I said- stop it." She ordered but you're hell bent on making her apologise- a dream, but still. You clicked your tongue. "I suppose I'll hand in my resignation to the sultan and explain to His Majesty that it was my fault for being a useless servant who is just not capable- ow!" You finally looked at her in disbelief.

She pinched you. Mihirmah pinched your arm. Hard.

And she had the gall to glare at you, with some anger and remorse in her eyes.

"What did you do that for?" You spat, hissing as you rubbed the area she'd assaulted. There was going to be a bruise, for sure.

Her frown deepened. "You- I told you to stop, didn't I?!" You watched her trying to contain her rage, her body shaking as she tried not to wrangle you by the neck. "I- I dont want you to leave."

"But sultana-" "Mihirmah. You call me Mihirmah." She emphasised.

You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress your smile. "I am just a dispensable servant-" You jumped back when she went to pinch you again.

"Will you stop doing that?!" Your arm still hurt from her first attack. Mihirmah's nostrils flared. "Will you stop acting like a brat?!"

Your throat made a sound of disbelief. "I am acting like a brat?! Have you looked in the mirror recently?"

"Yes and I look very beautiful! Unlike your busted face!"

"Oh so you just get to insult me?" "I am not insulting you! I am DESCRIBING YOU!" She screamed as you glared at her. Mihirmah took a few deep breaths to calm down. "I am not calling you ugly, I was just referring to the bruises on your face. How did you manage to get beat up so badly? Did you not learn anything from my sparring lessons?"

"Sparring lessons? You mean the times where you would flip me on my back or throw me against the wall?" She glared at your accusation. "How is it my fault that you dont fight back?"

Mihirmah's gaze flicked the arm you were holding, the one she'd pinched. "Does it still hurt?" Her voice was much softer this time.

"Would you like me to pinch you back to demonstrate how much it hurt?" You spat back and she scoffed. "I didnt pinch you that hard. You're just sensitive." "Sure, you must only have meaty man fingers." You grumbled as she gasped and smacked your bruised arm, making you hiss.

The two of you glared at each other before Mihirmah wrapped her arms around you and looked up at you with a small pout.

"This doesnt work on me." You muttered, making her grip tighten around you.

"You know you're not a servant." Mihirmah whispered, looking up at you with puppy eyes, but only you knew the real Ronda Rousey in her.

"You're my friend, Y/n. Or the closest thing I have to a sister." "If you were planning on beating up your sister, I'm glad your parents didnt have one."

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment." Mihirmah scolded you. "I dont want you to go. I dont want you to be hurt, either. So just- I'm willing to let things go back to the way they were before this morning, if you are."

You stared down at her. You knew you were never going to get a real apology, Mihirmah was too prideful. You couldnt make her feel ashamed for her actions, or hold her responsible. So, you'll have to make do with this.

"Fine." She broke into a grin and squeezed her arms around you tightly before letting go.

"Now, tell me! Who were these girls who attacked you? I'll skin them with my daggers!" Ignoring her sociopathic tendencies, you shrugged. "I dont know, Mihirmah. I dont know who they were- I'm still new to the palace."

She hummed before her face lit up in realisation. "Wait! Baris Agha did say something about concubines. I'll ask Mehmed too when he returns with more information from Ibrahim pasha!"

-

While you are trying your best to hide the incident about your attack, unbeknownst to you, the news has spread like wildfire in the palace. A maid saw Mehmed entering Ibrahim pasha's office, and when she reported it to her friend, she then told her about how she overheard the eunuchs talking about a fight breaking out between the concubines and someone else, and then someone added that they saw Ibrahim pasha, Mehmed and Mihirmah in your room, so you were involved too. It wasnt long before this news reached Hurrem and Mahidevran, only this time it was more dramatised.

"The concubines tried to kill Hatun Y/n! It was only by pure luck that sehzade Mehmed saved her! And now her wounds are being tended to by Mihirmah sultana while sehzade Mehmed and Ibrahim pasha are punishing the concubines!" Gul, the chamber maid, told Mahidevran.

Mahidevran narrowed her eyes. "Why did they save her? She's just a teacher." The queen didnt understand why the royal children were going through such lengths to get justice for you. Fights in the harem break out all the time.

Gul fumbled with her thumbs, avoiding eye contact with her queen. Mahidevran's frown deepened. "What is it, Gul?"

"I- sultana- I just heard some rumors, its probably not even true-" "Out with it!" Mahidevran snapped.

Gul licked her lips as she spoke. "Um- I overheard that sehzade Mehmed has been... spending a lot of time with Hatun Y/n. Especially after the dinner where Mihirmah sultana recited-"

Mehmed... spending time with you? Why? If he wanted to sleep with you, he could have any girl from the harem. So why you? Why you, a Quran teacher, a conservative girl who covered herself from head to toe? Surely, Mehmed hadnt been bewitched by your physical appearance- not that you had any, in her opinion. And then Suleiman seemed to like you to, so for Mehmed to fancy you would be because-

Mahidevran's eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

"Get me Mustafa. Now!"

-

"Hatun Y/n was attacked by the concubines! Ibrahim pasha saved her and carried her unconscious form to her room!" A maid reported to Hurrem.

"Why was she attacked?" Hurrem asked, bored.

The maid hesitated to answer. "I am not sure, sultana, but the word is that the concubines were jealous of the attention Hatun Y/n was getting from sehzade Mustafa."

Mustafa? No. What possible business could you have with Mustafa? From the past week's events, Hurrem was told that you'd spend most of your time with her daughter, and only moments with Mehmed when he visited his sister.

"Mustafa isnt interested in Y/n." Hurrem stated, more to herself than to refute the maid's claims.

The girl nodded. "I'm only telling you what I heard, sultana. And... I also saw sehzade Mustafa leaving Mahidevran sultana's chambers to visit Hatun Y/n earlier today, just moments before I came here!"

Hurrem halted as she tried to make sense of the information. Mustafa was out all day because of the hunt, he wasnt supposed to return before dinner. Which means, he was fetched, likely by Mahidevran. Who probably informed him about your attack and now he went to check on you.

But why? Even at the dinner the other day, Hurrem didnt detect any sort of affection from Mustafa for you, or you from him. You both barely glanced at each other.

Maybe he's just checking in on you. That's all it is to it.

"How badly was Y/n injured?" Hurrem inquired.

"I didnt get a chance to see her yet, she's been with Mihirmah sultana since the event, but I heard that her unconscious body had to be carried by Ibrahim pasha himself! And- and that he even bandaged her up-"

"Ibrahim pasha?" Hurrem whispered to herself. What business did he have with you? He could've easily had a servant tend to your wounds, so why did he personally do it himself?

Ibrahim. Mustafa. Mahidevran. What are they upto? Hurrem knows Ibrahim doesnt like her, that he favours Mahidevran and Mustafa over her, that he wants Mustafa to be the next sultan-

Hurrem's heart sinks as she pieces it together.

"Get me Mehmed. Now!"

-

Suleiman was having dinner with his family. Both of his families- Mahidevran and Mustafa joined him tonight as well. He was happy to have them together, all well and healthy.

Except... something was off.

Suleiman's gut could sense it. The children were making small talk, his wives as well, but he could tell. There was some sort of tension.

It was Mihirmah that made him finally speak up.

"Mihirmah." He called out the girl who was playing with her food. "You've barely eaten. What's wrong?"

The room immediately fell dead silent, the attention now focusing on Mihirmah.

She smiled nervously, taking a small bite. "I'm fine, baba."

But Suleiman could see that her usual bubbling aura was somewhat depressing. "Mihirmah." He called her name more sternly, and this time, her smile faltered as she finally spilled.

"I'm just worried for Y/n."

Suleiman frowned. And when he looked at everyone else, it was clear that they knew something he wasn't aware of.

"What happened?"

-

Baris Agha was having fun riling you up. "So, you're telling me that both sehzade Mustafa and Mehmed, the two crown princes racing to be the next sultan, are visited you?" He snickered as you shot him a glare. "Can I just suggest you to remove the niqaab for the wedding-"

"Baris! Shut up!" You raged at him. "Dont think I dont know you were the one spreading the lies about-" "Lies? About what? About you being attacked? By concubines who are jealous of your- I dont know, I'm sorry what it is that these men seem to be enraptured with-"

There are hurried, intense knocks on the door. Baris opens the door as a servant stumbles in, out of breath.

"Hatun Y/n! Sultan Suleiman has summoned you! Now!" His tone signified that you're not to waste time.

"Why did he call for me?" You whisper to Baris as the two of you rush down the hallways.

"Perhaps he wants to formally ask you to marry one of his sons-" "Baris!" He grinned. "What? I have a sixth sense-" "YOU HAVE NO SENSE!" You yelled. "Have more sense than you." Baris grumbled.

"Why are you even following me? Dont you have a job?" You wanted him to stop vexing you.

He snorted. "And what? Miss out on all the fun? Besides, you know as the future sultana, you will need me-"

"I swear, as soon as I'm finished meeting the sultan, I am going to throw you off the roof."

The two of you turned the corner leading to the royal dining hall, and you bumped face first into Ibrahim pasha's back, the man catching you by the arms before you fell on your ass.

"P-pasha? What are you doing here?" You asked, backing up once you got your footing.

"Sultan sent for me. What are you doing here?" Ibrahim asked, equally confused.

"He summoned me as well. What do you think its about?" You watched the cogwheels in his mind turn and the realisation dawn on him.

"The attack earlier." He exhaled, closing his eyes as he tried to figure out his next steps. "We cant- you cant tell him the truth!"

"You want me to lie to the sultan?" He rose his brows. "Please, Ibrahim! I- I told Mihirmah and Mehmed and then Mustafa that I didnt know who the attackers were, or why they attacked me! If you tell them the truth-"

"Y/n." He grabbed your shoulders, staring into your worried eyes. "I promised to protect you, didnt I? I intend on keeping my promises."

You both entered the dining room together, bowing to the royal family sitting there.

"Y/n." You looked up at the sultan. "Is it true? Were you attacked?"

You were quiet for a few moments, resisting the urge to glance at Ibrahim to figure what to say, before nodding hesitantly.

"Y-yes, sultan." You trailed your eyes back to the ground. These people, they were warriors. They didnt have any technology back then, and they had to rely on body language to read people.

And you didnt want to risk him catching you in a lie.

"Are you alright?" Suleiman's voice was much softer now. "Did you go to the infirmary?"

"I'm well now, sultan. Thank you for asking." You meekly answered. "I was saved in time, thanks to Ibrahim pasha."

Mahidevran's eyes narrowed at you. Ibrahim saved you? Of course, you'd lie about that, so that no one would suspect you and Mehmed getting close. She thought to herself.

"Ah, Ibrahim pasha." Suleiman's voice turned serious. "You were the one who saved Y/n?"

"Yes, sultan." Ibrahim confirmed.

"And you have the attackers in custody?"

"Yes, sultan."

Suleiman slammed his fist on the table, rattling everyone. "Then why the hell wasnt I informed of it?!" Ibrahim kept his head down as the sultan continued to rage. "Why does everyone seem to be aware of this matter, except me?! Answer me, Ibrahim!"

Hurrem couldnt help the smile that curled on her lips. She was glad to see Ibrahim getting in trouble, perhaps Suleiman will finally get rid of him for once and for all-

"It's my fault, your majesty!" You announced suddenly, and everyone's focus shifted to you. "I- I was- I was shaken up from the attack and I- I made the pasha stay with me. I was too scared- I didnt think I was safe- so Ibrahim pasha left to make arrangements to assure me I was safe! He was busy because of me. I'm sorry! If- if anyone should be punished, it should be me!"

You held your hands together tightly to stop them from trembling. The room fell silent at your explanation, with you and Ibrahim holding your breaths.

"Is this true, Ibrahim?" Suleiman broke the silence.

"Yes, my sultan." Ibrahim answered. "After I had saved Hatun Y/n, I wanted to assure her of her safety, so I was busy interrogating the concubines who attacked her. After they confessed, I wanted to check if anyone else in the harem had any ill intentions for Hatun Y/n, so I was engaged in checking everyone who could be a possible threat. I was on my way to inform you, but you summoned me before I could."

"Concubines? Why did they attack Y/n?" Suleiman asked, wanting to know the result of his interrogation.

Ibrahim answered without missing a beat. "They were jealous of Hatun Y/n's bracelet." You looked at him but the pasha kept his eyes ahead at the sultan. "From what I gathered, Hatun Y/n refused to give up His Majesty's handmade gift, and when she put up a fight to defend your present, she was subjected to a harsh beating and had her face almost burned."

Suleiman's eyes widened. "Burned? Because of a bracelet?"

"It was what the bracelet represented, my sultan." Ibrahim's statement made your heart sink. He better not tell him about the "daughter-in-law" theory.

"The concubines think that you... favour Y/n over them." Ibrahim's words set fire to your cheeks and you had to bite your lip to suppress the gasp you almost let out.

Ibrahim decided to change the "daughter-in-law" theory to "3rd wife/bedwarmer theory".

"What rubbish?!" Suleiman slammed his fist on the table again, and perhaps everyone in the room was silently grateful for his rage and disbelief, as it disapproved the theory and quelled any future rumours. "I only see Y/n as my daughter, nothing else! How dare they slander me like that?! How dare they hurt someone I care about?! Ibrahim, execute those wretched concubines!"

Your eyes widened at the order. Preventing their death sentence was the only reason you lied and kept this charade up. You cant risk more people dying and history changing forever because of you!

"Y-your majesty!" You fell to your knees, your voice wet. "I- I beg you- I beg you on the behalf of the concubines, please- have mercy!"

Everyone watched in surprise as you cried for mercy for... your attackers?

"You... want me to forgive them? Despite what they did to you?" Suleiman asked, watching in disbelief at your tears wetting your niqaab.

"It- it was wrong- but please, they're just- they're just young girls. They made a mistake, they shouldnt pay with their lives!" You tried to come up with better reasoning. Aha!

"Sultan, I- we are Muslims. You are a role model for Muslims all over the world right now- but you have a role model as well- someone you havent met or seen, but you follow his advices and footsteps every day. Its Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)- and- and he advices us to be forgiving and merciful." Ibrahim watched you try to persuade the king.

"On the Day of Judgement, when we beg and grovel Allah for forgiveness, would He not forgive us happily if we show mercy to His creatures? If we forgive His mankind?" You pleaded and Suleiman was touched by your words, so-much-so that he walked over to you and pulled you by your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your veiled forehead.

"You're too kind, Y/n." He whispered, before nodding at Ibrahim. "Dont kill the concubines. But find a fitting punishment for them, Ibrahim." The pasha bowed his head obediently.

"And find Y/n her personal chambers in the royal wing." Suleiman stated, making everyone surprised.

No. Room in the royal wing only meant more contact with the royals themselves. This was the last thing you needed-

"Your majesty-" He held up a hand. "Dont protest, Y/n. You were hurt because of my present and while I appreciate that you defended it, I do not wish to see you hurt. Ibrahim, find her a room and shift her there by tonight. And assign a few guards and servants to Y/n as well. I dont want her to feel unsafe again." Suleiman looked at Ibrahim with a serious expression. "I trust her in your hands, Ibrahim."

"Of course, your majesty." Ibrahim nodded.

Suleiman looked back at you, a gentle smile on his face. "I would like you to join us for dinners now." He gently pushed your back and Mahidevran immediately scooted a bit closer to Suleiman's seat and patted the space beside her... and next to Mustafa.

Hurrem glared at the blatant display of intentions- Mahidevran showed her "generosity and humbleness" by letting you sit next to her to please Suleiman, and also make you sit next to her son to get close with.

At this moment, both queens are under the impression that Suleiman wants you to be his future daughter-in-law, so both women think that the other is making her son court you because the first one to marry you will produce a heir, further legitimising the prince's claim to the throne and becoming the next sultan, especially since Suleiman views you to be the perfect, pious woman who would be the perfect mother for his grandkids.

The only difference is- Mahidevran wants you to be Mustafa's spouse, not because she thinks you're a good match for her perfect son, but because she wants to speed up Mustafa's claim to the throne. She knows Suleiman prefers Hurrem over her (Hurrem's five kids are proof of that), and since she has no child other than Mustafa, Mahidevran is at disadvantage and she needs every advantage she can get, no matter how savoury it is- like you.

Hurrem on the other hand, does not want you as her Mehmed's spouse, because you're not what she had in mind for her precious son. She wants someone soft, demure, submissive, beautiful and more importantly- someone she can control. But she also knows what game Mahidevran is playing, and since Hurrem doesnt want Mustafa trying to steal the throne from Mehmed, Hurrem will have to just- get rid of you.

-

"So... the sultan just said that outloud?" Baris ate a date from the fancy table in your brand new chambers. "He just announced that you're his "daughter" to everyone?" He heard you groan a yes from your place on the bed- face buried in the pillows.

"And Mahidevran sultana made you sit between her and sehzade Mustafa?" He heard you groan another "yes".

Baris plopped down next to you. "So you're marrying Mustafa. Huh, didnt bet on that-"

"You bet on this?" You asked miserably, finally pulling your head up. "Of course, need to make money. Unlike you, not everyone has the oppurtunity to marry into royalty-"

You smack a pillow right across his face. "If I hear you talk about marriage again, I will strangle you."

Baris rolled his eyes, fixing his hair that you'd messed up. "I dont know why you're so upset. Did you want to sit next to Mehmed instead? If so, maybe I can still win the bet-"

"I dont want either of them!" You stated frustratedly, sitting up. "Do you not get it- I dont want to be a part of royalty! They're- they're all mad! My life would be in constant threat- from jealous concubines, possessive mother-in-laws, throne hungry princes. I dont want that!"

"Is it because you want Ibrahim pasha?"

You blinked at him. What? "What?"

Baris rubbed his chin. "Oh come on, I saw the way you two looked at each other before you entered the dining room- how the pasha promised to protect you, even from the sultan's wrath."

"Are you like- fishing for anything? For fun?" You shake your head at him.

Baris gave you a look. "Really? What about you going in and lying to protect him? He didnt even say anything before you took the chance to save him."

"I saved him because it was the right thing to do! Not because I love him!" You exclaimed, throwing your hand in the air. "If this is how you think, please- PLEASE resist the urge to ever help me! I dont want a proposal coming from you just because you saved me from choking."

Baris glared at you. "First of all- I'm never going to be as blind as the sehzade when it comes to love. Secondly, you'd be lucky to have me as a husband. At least your offspring will have a chance at looking somewhat normal-" You lunged at him and put him in a chokehold while Baris grabbed at your hijaab covered head to pull you off.

Your fighting match is brought to a halt as someone knocks on the door.

Mustafa stands outside your door, surprised to see Baris looking slightly disheveled when he opened your door.

"Baris? What are you doing here?" Mustafa asked, watching the eunuch fix his collar.

"Ah sehzade! Oh I was just helping Hatun Y/n adjust to her room. Shift her things in here." Baris faked a smile.

Mustafa nodded before lowering his voice. "Is she awake?"

"Yes yes- please come in." Mustafa walked inside just as you appeared out of the wooden divider screen, adjusting your niqaab.

"Sehzade." You gave him a courtesy. "How may I help you?"

Mustafa gave you a gentle smile, his moustache quirking up handsomely. "I would like to ask you to spend the day with me tomorrow."

You froze, and you didnt dare look at Baris who you knew was sporting a smug look because you didnt want to throw your shoe at his face in front of the prince.

"I- I think I am busy with Mihrimah sultana tomorrow-"

"No, I asked her. She said she's happy to skip her lessons for tomorrow." Mustafa cut your excuse. "I'll come by after breakfast. Good night, Y/n."

-

Even though Mustafa said he'll see you after breakfast, which for royals was just an hour before noon, you were woken up by Baris at the ass crack of dawn.

"Baris! What the hell?" You glared at him when he yanked the covers off you. Baris grinned at you. "As much as I'd like to believe in beauty sleep, its so not helping in your case. Come on, you need a bath and a lot of other stuff!"

He'd brought fine silk gowns and matching niqaabs (which you insisted on wearing despite Baris voicing his displeasure).

Currently, one of the maids had just finished doing your eye makeup- which in this case was kohl, and some dried berries crushed to a fine powder to make a rouge sort of shade.

"Since your eyes may be the only thing the prince sees, we need to make them bewitching!" Baris had commented before spraying you down with a lot of perfume.

"That's enough!" You push the bottle away as you coughed at the musky, earthy perfume. "Isnt that for men?" You ask coughing.

Baris's grin only widened. "Its sehzade Mustafa's favourite attar! I had to bribe his chamber servant to tell me this. And you my darling-" He sprayed you again. "-need to smell like him so that he thinks you two are a perfect fit!"

"That is literally the stupidest thing I've heard-" your insult is cut short as your vision is blinded by Baris flipping up your veil to reveal your lower half of the face and him applying some crushed berries juice to your lips.

"Just in case you have a change of morals and want to kiss the prince." He jumped back when you tried to slap him.

Soon, Mustafa came to fetch you. You two were currently walking through the royal gardens, with you giving curt answers so that he would lose interest in you and leave you alone.

Your dismissal didnt go unnoticed by him. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Read." You answer looking at the well cut hedges. "Have you been to the royal library?" He looks down at you, finding you gazing at the flowers. "Yes. I've already read all of the books there." In college, of course.

"All of them?" His disbelief makes you look at him. Finally. Mustafa thinks.

"Of course." You answer, offended.

"Even the royal ancestry book?" Mustafa raises a brow at you.

"Yes." Your brows furrow. "Ask me anything."

He shakes his head and chuckles. "I doubt you know more about my ancestors than me."

When he looked back at you, you were still looking at him expectantly.

"Ask me."

Mustafa's curiosity got the best of him at your determination.

"This is- this is incredible." Mustafa commented, his eyes wide as he looked at the ancestry book from where he basically quizzed you. He didnt know he was talking to a historian who had pulled all nighters for pretty much every major empire for finals.

"How did you learn all of this?" He asks you, still double checking your answers.

"Oh... I have good memory." You mutter, making him shake his head at you with an amusing smile.

"Of course, I should've figured. You're a hafidha, you're passionate for learning." And passionate for making money in trivias.

Mustafa closes the book. "So, since you've read every book in here, I suppose you must be bored?" He doesnt wait for an answer when an idea pops in his mind. "Come on, lets go."

You follow him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. "Go where?"

"To get you new books." He looks over his shoulder and gives you charming grin.

Your steps falter. New books? "We're leaving the palace?" He hums.

You havent left the palace since you came here, mostly because you havent been able to leave.

You match his pace. "Lets go!" And Mustafa finally sees you excited for the first time today.

With a few Janissaries and some disguise, you all head out into Istanbul. You're looking around the city like a kid in a candy store, only you're looking for a something or someone to help you fix your time machine.

The market comes into view along with the sound of hawkers trying to attract customers. Of course, the only shopkeeper who wasnt yelling was the blacksmith, allowing his hammer to garner the attention of serious clients.

He could be of use. If you're able to find some tools, maybe even get some metal films, you could try to spark a charge and trigger the time machine to work.

You start to take a few steps towards him when Mustafa grabs your shoulder and pulls you back to him. "Where are you going? Stay close to me. I dont want to lose you." He tells you, almost in a chiding tone, but his hands carefully pulling your robes around you said otherwise.

He lead you towards a bookshop. Mustafa nodded at you to go ahead, explore and get any book you want. He'll buy it.

While you were busy browsing, Mustafa couldnt help but steal glances at you. He didnt understand why he was doing this- he couldnt really see your face, or anything except for your eyes.

Your eyes, they were pretty but its not their beauty that really captivates him. Its the swirl of emotions in them. The mystery in them, like there's... more to you. Like you're hiding something.

Perhaps it was your mannerisms. Your dismissive nature, your tendency to not be impressed easily by their eccentricities or status, almost as if you've lived with royalty before.

Maybe he likes how different you treat him him. How you dont bend over backwards to please his family, or try to pursue him or his brothers. In fact, you almost seem to be avoiding them altogether.

You intrigue him. Badly. Amusingly. Adorably.

-

"I dont understand! Where could she have gone?" Mihirmah whined to her brother at lunch. Mehmed only raised a brow. "Who? Y/n? She might be in her room recovering from yesterday's events. She was pretty shaken up-"

"I already checked! She's not there!" Mihirmah sighed before laying her head in his lap, and he began patting her hair. "She went out with Mustafa but she still hasnt returned! Its lunch time and I planned on teaching her sword fight! For self defense, you know- so that she doesnt get beat up like last time."

Mehmed's hand stopped patting. "She's with Mustafa?"

She nodded. "Since morning!"

"Huh." Mihirmah sat up, looking at her brother puzzled.

"What? What is it?" She asked him.

"Nothing." He faked a smile, but Mihirmah knew him like the back of her hand. "Mehmed. Tell me."

"I just... dont understand why Mustafa is spending time with her." He stated, standing up to walk to the balcony. "She's your teacher. What business does Mustafa have with her?"

Mihirmah watched her brother stiffen suddenly, watched the way his jaw ticked as he looked down the balcony. She stood up and joined him, following his gaze to see what he was looking at.

Its you. And Mustafa. Finally returning to the palace, servants holding piles of books following behind you two. What's even more bizarre is to see Mustafa smiling down at you while you giggled, covering your mouth despite the niqaab, making you look even more bashful.

Even Mihirmah hadnt ever seen you so joyful, and yet here you are- laughing so gleefully with her eldest brother. Step brother.

It rubbed her off the wrong way.

"You want her?" She asked him, her voice so hollow that it made Mehmed look at her.

"What?"

Mihirmah looked at him, her eyes stern. "Do. You. Want. Her?"

Unwavering determination. Thats what he saw in his sister's face.

Say the word, and it'll be done.

Mehmed stared at her.

"Yes."

-

"I hope you had a good time." Mustafa asked you as he walked you to your chambers. You nodded. "I did. Thank you, sehzade." Despite your best attempts at dismissing him, Mustafa was very persistent at breaking down your walls. And sure, part of you giggled and pretended to be flustered at his words, you mainly acted cordial so that he may take you out of the palace more often. He was your only way out at the moment.

You both stopped outside your door, the servants walking past you to place your books inside. Mustafa looked satisfied.

"If you ever need to go outside again, feel free to come to me, Y/n." He offered, before taking out a small box from his pocket and handing it to you.

Your heart dropped. A ring? Now? This fast? No no no no no-

You opened the box and you felt life returning back to you. It was a gold broach adorned with rubies and a diamond in the center, encaged in an intricate heart pattern.

"I may not share my father's gift of handcrafting jewels, but I do happen to be skilled at acquiring precious jewels on my conquests." Mustafa informed you as he took the broach from the box and looked at you for permission before pinning it to your hijab, just below your collar bone.

You were too stunned to stop him or even turn down the gift, though Mustafa took your silence as awe.

He adjusted the broach.

"Perfect." He whispered, looking into your eyes.

You watched him leave with a grin, finally able to breathe when he was out of sight.

With a sigh, you enter your chambers, half expecting Baris to be sprawled over your bed waiting to tease you for details on your outing.

What you werent expecting was... her.

"Did you have fun?" The sultana asked, her eyes sharp. "I've been waiting for you, Y/n. Lets have a chat, hm?"

Shit.

-

"You're abnormal." Your hands stop adjusting your hijab as you glare at him through the mirror.

"What?"

Baris tilted his head. "You're abnormal." He repeated.

You turn around from the vanity and glare at him. "Is this another way of calling me ugly?"

"Tch. No, I have words for that." He shook his head. "I meant, you've been acting weird since yesterday, after you returned from your secret outing with sehzade Mustafa."

"You're imagining things." You mumble, turning back to the vanity mirror and picking up the broach Mustafa gave you.

Baris scoffed. "I am not. I may have been busy with the younger royal kids yesterday, but I did manage to catch a glimpse of you giggling and blushing when you returned with the prince." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So that means, the day went good. Something happened on the way to your chambers." He narrowed his eyes at you. "Did you kiss him?"

You whipped your head. "Baris!" He palmed his face. "Sorry, I forgot you're the religious prude. Did he kiss you?"

"No, Baris! No one kissed anyone." You began pinning the broach to your hijab, the same area where Mustafa had placed it yesterday. But you werent able to, too frustrated at the interrogation.

Baris grabbed the broach from you and pinned it in place. "So, you two didnt kiss, bought you enough books to make a you a scholar, and gifted you this broach, and you're disturbed because...?"

You frowned. "I am not disturbed. You're just reading too much into this."

"Fine, dont tell me. I'll find out on my own." You walked past him to teach your Quran lesson.

As much as you'd like to think that you're sly, Baris is right. Something did happen. After you'd returned to your room, you were met there by Mahidevran sultana.

You were reasonably scared because you thought that she's here to torture you or even kill you because you've been "seducing Mustafa" or whatever rumour Baris has spread about you.

But you were surprised when she told you that she wants you and Mustafa together, in marriage. As soon as possible. For the next half hour, Mahidevran basically told you all about the likes and dislikes of her son so that you would accustom yourself to them and then emphasised how supportive she would be of you to be her daughter-in-law. She even encouraged you to... sleep with him, she didnt say it directly but you got the meaning behind her words.

At the end of her lecture, she warned you to not spend time with Hurrem or any of her offsprings, besides Mihirmah because you are her teacher and even then told you to keep your interaction strictly formal and minimum.

When she was about to leave, she spotted the broach on your clavicle and beamed, almost proudly so. When you confirmed that Mustafa gave it to you, and started to take it off to return it to her, she stopped you and told you to wear it everyday. EVERYDAY.

"My son has given you something. You should be honoured. Cherish it." Mahidevran ordered.

The main reason you didnt tell Baris about Mahidevran and her confusing but threatening demands to court Mustafa was because of Baris's blabber mouth that couldnt hold a secret if his life depended on it.

And you have enough on your plate as it is.

You enter Mihirmah's chambers, bowing as you spot her.

"Ah! Welcome! Sit, sit!" Mihirmah pats down the seat next to her and you're slightly suspicious of her energy.

She's upto something.

You sit down beside her, opening the Quran. "I think we should start with-" She closed the book in your hands.

"In a minute. Lets talk first, hm?" She smiled at you. "How was your day off yesterday? Well rested?"

Your shoulders sag slightly. Of course, she wants to know about your day out with Mustafa. Baris probably blabbered something to spark her curiosity like this.

"Yes. A much needed break. Quite refreshing." You tell her, purposely keeping away from the details, lest she gets the wrong idea again and accuses you of whoring around your "ugly self" to her brother.

"Mmhm. Had fun with Mustafa?" Her sharp tone made you look at her.

Is she implying something?

"The prince was kind enough to get me some books." You told her cautiously, trying to ease the tension. "I think you'd like some of them-"

"Mustafa sleeps around." You blinked at her. What were you supposed to do with this unsolicited information.

"Okay...?"

She shrugged, picking up her cup of tea. "I'm just saying- he's been with a lot of women. The other day I was reading a verse from Quran where it mentioned adultery. Then I realised- thats what Mustafa is. An adulterer."

"You read Quran without me making you-"

"Mustafa is an adulterer, Y/n. Allah will not forgive him. He's doomed for hell."

"Actually, if he repents sincerely-"

"He's doomed, Y/n. Doomed." She reiterated.

"By that logic, so are most of your ancestors. I think most men, kings and princes commit adultery-"

"Mehmed doesnt." She stared at you. "He's never slept with anyone. He's a good Muslim man. Allah will be pleased with him."

What is going on here? "Um... okay. That's great news for sehzade Mehmed."

"And for you." Mihirmah announced. "You are the lucky one."

"What?"

She let out a sigh of frustration, as if she has to state the obvious. "Mehmed likes you- no, he loves you-" "Loves me?" "Shh! I'm still talking. You have caught his eye for some reason, so you should end whatever it is that you have with Mustafa and be loyal to my brother."

The room was silent, the two of you staring at each other- you, in confusion. Mihirmah, in determination.

A crow croaked outside.

"First of all, I have nothing going on with sehzade Mustafa. Secondly, Mehmed said he loves me?" You asked while trying not to show resentment.

Mihirmah scoffed. "He doesnt have to say it, I know it."

Your tension deflates to some extent. Okay, so she's just making up stuff. This can be handled.

"Mihirmah, I understand how-" you resist the urge to roll your eyes "-you may think Mehmed may be attracted to me, I am honoured, really. But I can assure you, Mehmed does not love me."

"No, I love you." Your head whips around at the sound of his voice.

Mehmed. He's standing behind you.

"Sehzade-" you begin standing up to bow to him, but he holds up a hand.

"Mihirmah's right. I love you." Mihirmah beamed proudly at standing correct.

Your eyes could only widen in horror as Mehmed sank down to sit right beside you, and with Mihirmah on your other side, you were trapped between the siblings.

"I. Love. You." Mehmed repeated, his hazel eyes staring into yours.

After several moments of silence, a crow croaked again. Mihirmah nudged you to say something.

"Um-" You cleared your throat. "Ugh... thank you."

Mehmed's brows shot up in surprise while Mihirmah broke into a fit of laughter.

"Thank... you?" Mehmed asked, and you would've thought he was mad if it werent for the amused smile on his face.

Mihirmah continued to laugh, and you had to look back at her to make her stop. "I-I'm sorry, Mehmed- this was- this was just too funny. I mean, she has a prince, the next heir of the empire confess her love and all she says is "thank you"?" She said, chuckling as she wiped the tear from her eye.

Mehmed glared at her playfully. "Well, maybe she's just shy around you." Why are they talking about you like you're not right there?

Mihirmah hummed, then nodded. "Perhaps you're right. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. I have to do something-"

"What? Why? You dont have anything to do." You stopped her from standing up. You dont want to be alone with Mehmed.

"I do!" She narrowed her eyes at you.

"Like what?"

"Like-" her eyes zeroed in on your broach. "-pretty. Mustafa gave it?"

"Yes-" you yelped as she grabbed it and pulled it off you, ripping the niqaab it was pinned with along.

"Mihirmah!" Mehmed yelled at her, his eyes stern. You could only stare at her in disbelief before turning away from Mehmed to hide your bare face now.

"Oops! I'm sorry Y/n! I'll go get you a new niqaab- this one is all torn!" She said without an ounce of remorse before leaving the room.

Mehmed shakes his head as he watched her leave, before turning his attention to you- or well, your back.

"Y/n?" He called out to you softly. "I'm sorry for Mihirmah. She... she doesnt mean you any harm. She's just- she sometimes doesnt realise how hurtful her actions can be when she's trying to help someone."

When you didnt reply, Mehmed grew slightly worried. "Y/n?" He sighed when you didnt reply. An idea popped in his head as he looked around the room before looking down.

You heard the sound of cloth ripping, your heart dropping as you assumed the worst. He wasnt going to-

Your head turned around just as Mehmed's hands encircled around your head, a red cloth blocking your view of him.

"Mehmed?" You whispered, scared. His frozen hands seemed to snap out of it and began encircling round your head, the red cloth in his grip brought closer to your face. Thats when your eyes landed on the bottom of his red shirt (kemis). It was ripped.

Mehmed had torn his shirt to make a niqaab for you.

His eyes were focused on tying the makeshift veil, securing it before they landed on you.

"Y/n?" He called your name gently again, his concern growing at the sight of tears pooling in your eyes. He softly sighed as a his hand reached up to wipe a tear that escaped your eye.

"You're that scared of me?" After a few moments, you sniffled as more tears escaped your eyes and you shook your head. "Then?" When you didnt reply, or couldnt as you continued to cry mutely, he took it as a sign that you were humiliated because of Mihirmah removing your veil.

He took a deep breath and cupped your face gingerly before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

"My mind is occupied by you. I think about you all the time. Perhaps...I only think about you, moon." He wiped another tear with his thumb. "I love you, my moon. I fear I... I love you too much. My heart holds so much love for you, I can hardly call it my own anymore." He then kissed your teary eyes one by one.

"I know you... you dont love me yet, but one day, when you find yourself being generous, I want you to be the one holding my heart in your hands. Its yours, moon. Yours."

-

Baris waited with a few guards and servants outside Mihirmah's room, when Mehmed left the room with a satisfied smiled on his face. Baris noted the bottom of his torn shirt but before he could comment on it, Mehmed asked him where Mihirmah was.

"She went to see sehzade Mustafa. Shall I fetch her?" Mehmed waved him off, saying he'll go get her himself, after all- Mihirmah still had to finish her lesson with you.

Mehmed had just turned around the corner when you came out of the room.

"Y/n-" Baris called out to you but you sped past him, and he didnt chase after you when he saw your red eyes.

He'll tease you later, when you're not so sad. For now, he has to report the sight of this to someone.

-

Even if Mihirmah hadnt bumped into Mustafa and proudly showed off the broach he'd gifted you, the news would've still somehow made its way to him by the servants whispers.

"Oh this broach? Its pretty, isnt it?" Mihirmah smirked, showing it off to Mustafa. "Y/n gave it to me."

"She... gave it to you?" His gift. You gave it away?

She nodded. "Mmhm. She said it wasnt that precious to her, so she gave it. She was going to throw it away, but it went well with my dress so I took it."

You were going to discard his gift? Just like that?

"Mihirmah. There you are." Mehmed walked over to her. "Mustafa." He greeted his brother.

"Mehmed." He looked at his shirt. "What happened to your shirt?"

Mehmed grinned. "Nothing." He then looked at Mihirmah. "Come on, Y/n is waiting for you. I talked to her."

Mustafa could only watch the two siblings beam at each other as the taste in his mouth soured.

His broach. Torn shirt. Mehmed "talked" to you.

Mahidevran could feel her blood boil at the complaints Mustafa brought to her. Even if he didnt, the maids she'd hired to spy on you had already reported of everything they'd witnessed. You and Mehmed alone in Mihirmah's room.

Did you not understand a single word she said? Does she need to give you a more stern warning this time?

"Hurrem must've put them upto this." She muttered, before her gaze flickered to her worried son. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dont worry, Mustafa. I will fix this. You focus on Y/n, hm? You deserve her, my lion."

So? How was it?

Part 10 is here!

[ddejavvu]

ok this one may be a little off putting BUT

Spencer, going out with the bau clubbing and bau!reader is getting absolutely hammered throughout the night bc of em and jj, and eventually it leads to the responsibility of him taking the reader home but the reader is trashed and feels gross so she wants to take a shower and basically begs spencer to get in the shower with her to wash her hair.

love u have a great dayyyyyyy 🤍🦆

Spencer the germaphobe would have never thought he'd have his nails raking through unwashed hair that was not his own. He takes solace in the bubbles frothing at his fingertips, an assurance that he's cleaning your hair, not just spreading the filth from the club through its strands, but it's still several steps to the left of his comfort zone.

If it were anyone else, he would have said a very firm, but kind, no, and he may have gagged as soon as they were out of earshot. But it was you, and you looked at him with your pretty eyes, your pretty sad eyes, your pretty tired eyes, and asked him to please help you clean yourself up before bed, because you'd just washed your sheets and you didn't want to dirty them with the remnants of a night out.

He reasons that designated driver duties included walking you to your door, getting you a glass of water for the morning, and locking your apartment behind him, but he hadn't planned on helping you shower. That he had only agreed to under extreme stress (those pretty, sad, tired eyes he can't stop thinking about) and it's how he finds himself now crouched on the lid of your toilet, scrubbing suds through your hair.

"Thanks, Spence," You groan, feeling his nails rake across your scalp, "I was- I dunno how I was gonna do this without you. I'm dizzy."

It's a concerning observation to be made while cross-legged on the ground and not tired with the effort of standing up, but Spencer reasons that you'll feel better after a night's sleep. A night that he's not sure he can let you spend alone for fear of you choking on your own sick.

You've taken to resting your flushed forehead against Spencer's calf, and it's leaving a soapy stain on his poor excuse for social wear. The only two types of pants that he owns are slacks and pajama pants, and he's not sure he'll be able to properly clean this pair anymore. But he doesn't push you off - in fact, he takes note of the feeling of your touch against his leg.

"I'm cold," You shiver in place, despite the warm water flowing around you, as well as the clothes still on your body, now soaked. Thankfully you'd retained enough of your brainpower to know not to strip in front of Spencer, and he's grateful that he didn't need to enforce the matter.

"You're still dressed," He muses, taking the showerhead and rinsing his hands, then turning it on the mass of bubbles atop your head, "You'll be in pajamas soon."

"M'kay," You accept, even though Spencer can still see goosebumps on your exposed forearms from the cold, "Will you help me change?"

Perhaps you had not retained as much of your brainpower as Spencer thought you had.

"Uh," He stammers, "focused on a patch of suds near the nape of your neck, "Do you think you could- um, do it yourself?"

"I guess. Maybe. I don't know," You laugh at the absurdity of your own statements, "What, you don't wanna see me naked?"

"Y/N!" He gushes, cheeks burning hotter than the water that's pooling around your form on the floor of your shower, "No, I- I mean not while- not now! You're drunk."

"I only got drunk so I'd finally man up and make a move," You grumble against his calf, and Spencer's previously racing heart stops beating altogether, "Just- tell me I said that tomorrow, okay Spence? I'm gonna be pissed at- uh, at me if I forgot."

Spencer agrees with all the niceties that he's learned in dealing with the public, an empty promise falling from his lips when all else fails him, "Okay, I will."

"Liar," You accuse, your nose still nestled snugly against his leg, "This sucks. We're both too scared to make a move. Maybe we should both get shitfaced, and just buy a Plan B the next morning."

Spencer is well and truly speechless. He has several options as to his next response, if he can ever muster up the courage to enact them: an awkward laugh, a strained chuckle, prolonged silence. Instead of choosing any of those he swallows, the action almost hurting his now-dry throat, "Uh- Plan B can interfere with your next menstrual cycle, and there's a host of other side effects that aren't ideal for you."

"Fine." You snort, "We'll keep the baby."

[spidybaby]

Not The Romantic Type | Part Three

Part One | Part Two

"Aren't you nervous?" Fer asks, hands busy helping Pedri fix his smoking. "I'm about to colpase from the excitement."

"I feel like I'm going to cry myself to sleep, but in a bad way, I can't believe that I'm actually on the top three to get this."

If you ask him, only in his dreams, he was able to be on the top three of the most likely to get the ballon d'or.

He improved so much over the years that he worked more on perfecting his game to be able to classifie into the best players.

He remembered the Golden Boy award, Messi won one before winning his ballon d'or. Now he's following into his idol footsteps.

"Mom wants a picture of you on the suit." Fer says as he snaps a picture of him. "Venga, let's go get some food, we still have that meeting with the constructor."

Pedri thank the designer, changing into his normal clothes back to meet the new contractor.

Fer and him are partnering in a restaurant, he trusted his brother as a chef for his whole career. It was obvious he was trusting him with something this big.

"We need an interior designer." The constructor tells them. "I know you have a vision of how you want this to look like. However, I feel that with a little help and more inspiration we can make this amazing."

"Vale, if you think it's what we need, then let's do it!" Pedri says excitedly. "Fer will be the one meeting up with this person since I'll be at the field."

"No problem, I think my girl will be the one. Not that I'm talking bad about the guy, but she's just a star when it comes to modern luxury style."

"Perfecto!" Fer smiles, "Let's meet up with her, I'm so excited."

Pedri was excited about everything, the ceremony in France, the new project, the possible winning of the Champions League.

He was focused on the field and nothing else. That's why Fernando decided to be the caregiver or the project, so Pedri would be all into his element.

The dressing room was euphoric, the players happy about winning the semifinals, they're playing the final at home.

"Visca al Barca" Gavi yells.

"Visca al Barca" they all second.

"And let's all celebrate to our next Ballon d'or, the magician Pedri." Ter Stegen shakes him. "Vamos Pedri!"

They throw all the water they can at him, making him smile and laugh at how much support he has from his friends. His second family.

After the celebration Ferran invited Pedri to a little party he planned. "No lo sé, tiburón. I'm kinda tired and I have to meet with the designer to measure the tux"

"A little party never killed nobody." Ferran insisted, but he denied. He needs rest and peace.

"Vale, pero me lo debes." He hugs him tight. "See you around, pepi."

He drives home, passing in front of the place where the restaurant will take place. He can't help but feel pride, this feels like an extension of their parents' hard work.

Fer was laying on the couch, checking some ideas the ID (interior designer) sent them.

"Hola, tonto." Pedri pulls lightly his brothers hair. "Are those the ideas this girl sent you?"

"Si, look at this, I love this idea she has." Fer pass him the iPad. He sees the ideas, loving all of it. "She's amazing, first thing and I'm already in with everything."

"Yes, this is cool." He checks everything, loving every idea. "When are you meeting her?"

"I think tomorrow." Fer gets up, walking to the kitchen and pulling out food. "But don't worry, I'll update you on everything."

✨️✨️✨️

"So, as you can see here." The constructor pointed to the ceiling. "We thought about lighting that can be dimmed as the sun light goes down."

"My brother and I loved that idea, specially because we have that at home recently installed and I think it will go so well."

"Perfect, our designer will come any minute now, she told me traffic was hectic and she was just a block away but stuck."

"It's okay, I get it. It took me an hour and a half to get here today, so I can't blame her." He laughs, interrupted by his ring tone." Excuse me for a second."

The constructor kept looking at his structure with your design. The sound of heels makes him turn, you were walking fast while holding your iPad and a few more things.

"I'm so sorry, Marc." You apologize, leaving your things on the desk. "I think today is not my day. Is the client mad?"

"Not at all, Y/n." He pats your back. "He's an amazing dude, super relaxed. You will hit it off real quick."

You smile relief. You didn't want to lose this client, specifically because Marc told you they wanted to expand if the first restaurant goes well, meaning you will expand with them.

"Let's meet him them." You nervously giggle. "What's his name again?"

"Fernando, he's a chef."

Before you can even connect the dots, Fer walks into the room, saying goodbye to the person on the line.

"Fernado, so nice you're bac. This is our interior designer, Y/n."

You smile at the sight of him. Haven't seen him since the breakup. He has more facial hair, and he's stronger and definitely more mature looking.

"We know each other." You smile, still surprised at his presence. "We go way back actually."

Fer is as astonishing as you are, opening his arms to greet you into a hug. "It's been a long time no see." He laughs, hugging you tight. "Gosh, I can't believe you're our designer."

"I can't believe you're my clients." You laugh. "Let's leave the talk for later, I want to explain this to you, and then we can use the time."

He nods, letting you explain every part of your ideas. He can't deny that even if it wasn't you, he loves the ideas and can't think of any way to make it better.

You ask him about colors, measurements, textures, and different stuffs you will need to prepare yourself for your work.

"Perfect! We can't say that this meeting was a success." Marc happily says. "I'll keep working while you two chat a little, excuse me." He wayves goodbye while Fer and you say goodbye.

"Entonces," Fer says, picking your side like he used to. "You're a well-known designer." You nod, smiling.

"And you're a well-known chef, Mister González." You laugh. "It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"

"It's been good, I'm older but I think wiser." He hands you your iPad. Helping you with some things. "What about you?"

"I mean, you can tell how I am. I got my dream job and I feel like nothing can go better than this." You shrug.

Fer wants to ask. He needs to ask if you have someone or not, but he doesn't want to intrude into your private life.

"So, how's the family?"

"They're good, nothing to report." You nod. "What about your family? How are Rosy and Fernando? How is the Tasca going?"

You can't help but miss them, specially Rosy, she acted like a mother to you, always worrying about you, taking care of you when you were sick.

"Mom and dad are so good. They are healthy." He smiles at the thought of them. "The Tasca is doing good. This is a little extension of it, but bigger."

"I'm so happy for you, Fer." You hug him, happy about him, making his dream of having his own restaurant come true. "How is Pedri?"

Fer is speechless, he didn't think you will ask about him, not after the way you two ended things.

"Bueno, no le va mal." He laughs. "He's on top three to win the ballon d'or, Barcelona is on the UCL finals, la Liga finals. He's at the top."

You smile, you're happy he is getting all the awards he deserves. He's always been amazing at his job.

"I'm happy for him." You nod. "Even tho I haven't really been aware of the team. I've been busy lately."

"Maybe you can catch up, he's also in this with me." Fer smiles as big as he can "and he's single." He elbow you.

You laugh at this, blushing a little at the confession. You did hear some rumors about him and some girls, deep down wanting for it to be just that, a rumor.

"Don't know why that's important." You giggle, looking down. "We been over for a long time now."

"Well, if you want him back, he's available to be picked."

"Fer." You laugh. "He wouldn't pick me, specially with all the girls he's probably getting." You look away while saying that.

He always got girls, and nobody could deny that. In your mind, they were girls who were hotter than you, prettier than you, more experienced than you.

That was something that made you feel insecure, not that he was engaging with them in any way, he always ignored them or just straight up blocked them.

But you had that little insecure voice from time to time that told you that he had better options and that you needed to step up.

"Don't say that." He says in a serious tone. "You were the best thing Pedri had."

Fer wasn't lying. After you left, Pedri went down a very dark path. He was going out, drinking, bringing girls home.

Everything to make him forget about you. Girls who looked nothing like you, who acted nothing like you.

Girls who went after his money and his fame. They were doing everything they could to show they were with The Pedri from Barcelona.

You on the other side, always made sure to be cautious about not getting recognized. You never wanted the attention that came with being his girlfriend.

You were with him since he was that Canarian guy at Las Palmas, that skinny boy who made it big.

You were there before the fame, before the fans, before the name. But you were his past.

"If you say so." You exhale. "I will send you a virtual look of everything with all of the things you picked."

The change of subject makes Fer think you may not be as interested in his brother as he thought you would be.

Maybe you moved out and didn't want to let it out. Maybe you changed your likes and now you're not up for a footballer.

"Thank you, I'll see you here next time I pass by?"

"You will, I'll be here a lot more."

With a hug goodbye you both walk out to your cars. You wave him as you enter your car, getting a honk from him.

Fer can't even believe the picture he's seeing. He thought Pedri was being honest with him when he said that no more one night stands with random girls whom the club invite to their parties.

He can't help but feel embarrassed about talking to you all this past days about how much Pedri would love to have you back.

But now his little brother is on all the magazines and gossip news of Barcelona and Spain as a taken man by this random influencer who obviously posted more about being at the party.

One part of him can't blame Pedri, he was in a committed relationship since he was sixteen, he obviously went out and went crazy after the break up.

But six years later was a little too much for him to keep his crazy behavior. He had a chance of winning the girl of his dreams back.

Fer can't help but think about you. If you see this news and pictures, you will definitely think all he's been saying is a joke and that he's playing with your feelings.

And how right he was, you can't help but feel anger. He's been spending all this time changing topics to Pedri.

"Pedri was busy but says hello."

"Oh Pedri can't wait to be here to see you."

"When you're back together, I'll be the happiest brother in law you will ever have."

Was he teasing you?

You don't even want to go to work today. You want to call in sick and spend all day in bed thinking about how stupid you are for believing Fernando's words.

But you won't. The breakup didn't stop you back then, and it won't now.

You will walk with your head up, ready to work in your nice outfit. You won't mind, you have so much to lose, he already lost you.

He lost you.

You didn't lose him.

"Buenos días!" You say, giving Marc his favorite coffee order as usual. "Any news I should now?"

"Well, the Calcutta Gold Marble is taking longer than expected but after that nothing to worry about."

You nod, leaving your things at your little station. "As always with Calcutta."

"By the way, Fernando was looking for you. He's outside talking with David." You nod, thanking him and walking to where Fer is.

You know he's about to mention the picture. He can't help it but be so obvious about things. But you will change the subject as much as you can't.

"Hey, boss." You smile "heard you wanted to talk to me."

"Hey, how are you?" He plays with his necklace.

"I'm good. I had a very nice sleep." You smile. "I want to tell you, the Calcutta Gold Marble we picked for the bar area is taking more time. Don't worry about it. That's normal with that material, but just a heads up."

He half smiled, not sure how to approach you. He wants to say sorry. He wants to kick his brother.

"I'm sorry." He spat, can't even think straight due to the blame he feels. "You probably saw the picture and -."

You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation this early. "Fer, let's focus on what we need to focus."

"I just feel like I need to apologize."

"You don't. Let's move to what's important here. Your restaurant."

He understood quickly, not bringing the topic again. That made you relax. Before this project you were fine not thinking about Pedri. You are fine now.

You focus on making this project happen. You wanted Fer to have the best reaction when he sees his project finish.

✨️✨️✨️

"So, are you nervous about tomorrow's match?" The press guy asks him. "It's the finals for the UCL, and then you have to go to France for the Ballon D'or. You have a pretty crazy schedule."

"Bueno, I think I've always had a crazy schedule." He laughs, making the interviewers laugh too. "But I'm not nervous, I trust my team, I have a big trust in all the work we've been doing. We trust out Mister, so to me it's about focusing on staying healthy, making goals and winning."

"Walk us through the process you have for your next trip to France."

"Joder, it's not that much. If I'm honest, I have the tux, have the shoes, have my family, don't think I need anything else."

"Pedri, we got many requests to ask you if you don't walk with a ballon that night, will we see you walking with a special someone?"

He half smile at that question, knowing he fucked up by getting too close to María at the party.

"I don't have a girlfriend. If that's what you're asking." He shrugs. "I'm single. And probably the only lady I will be going to hug during the ceremony and after is my mom. Thank you."

He walks away, mad at himself for allowing this to happen again. He knows this girls just want the hype attached to his name. Specially now, with all the winnings of the club.

"Dude, you okay?" Gavi asks, noticing his frown. "What did they say?"

"They asked if I'm walking out that fucking auditorium with someone, es una putada, I will celebrate the week I don't get linked with some random girl."

Gavi lift his eyebrow. "Si, but the rumors don't just appear." he scuffs and turn to his locker.

"What do you mean?"

"Pedri, you used to be out and about with a different girl every other week. You flew this girl to Manchester. When you came back, you had this other girl in a new hotel. You're doing this to yourself."

He can't even argue because it's true. He did all those things. He flew all these girls. He fucked up his reputation.

"Me cago en la puta." He threw the towel at the inside of his locker. "I just wish I can have some fucking privacy."

"Then don't involve yourself with girls who only care to expose that they're with you." He hits him with his jersey. "Dude, you can go out and find a nice girl who will want a relationship and not just sex and a picture."

He nods, stresses about the topic already. Gavi is right. So is Ferran when he advise him not to mess with every girl that flaunt at him.

And when Fer tries to get some sense into him finding someone to settle to. Someone who will be happy to welcome him after a long day, someone who wants to grow a family with him.

He doesn't want that. Not without you.

He agreed to move out that day when you asked him to be happy, to find someone who would celebrate all his victories.

But he had that. He had you.

He lost you.

The game was about to finish, the extra time about to finish.

The Bayern had a corner. So they have to step up and prevent them from scoring. Just two minutes more and that's it.

"Vale, a ver." He yells, catching up the attention of the players near him. "Marc, just this cover up and the Champion is ours, please catch it." He makes them laugh. "Fermin, cover Davies. Gavi, cover Saliba. I'll cover their number 10."

They all nod, positioning themselves. They were nervous, this was their chance. This was their final chance.

When Marc let the ball go, Gavi was at the right place at the right time. He hit the ball with his feet, making it go out of the goalkeeper area.

Raphinha runs away with it. Getting the ball as far as possible from their area. Just when he's trying to make a assist to Pau, the referee blows the whistle.

Pedri runs to Gavi and Fermin. Hugging them while screaming. The public was as static as they are, cheering for them.

They won. They got the Champions League.

He look over at where his family is, they're screaming and jumping. Everybody is, the whole stadium is.

Running to his parents open arms. He can't help the tears of happiness as he hugs his family.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr added to his story

You are happy for him, you can't lie to yourself like you do to other people.

You feel proud, he got everything he ever wanted, he got la liga, he got the Champions and he's probably will get the Ballon.

And he did what you asked him to do. He got himself someone to celebrate all that with. Someone who will make him happy.

The sour taste in your mouth haven't left since you saw that picture of him with that girl at the party.

He left you behind, like you asked him to.

You tried to focus on the work you were doing, turning the tv off to pay more attention.

You can't, your mind goes back to the way things used to be. He made mistakes, and you accepted all those mistakes because you loved him.

While he is at his party, with his family and his new girl. You are trying to forget about the memories of him.

You fix all the things Fer asked you to fix in the design, making the things he wanted as similar as possible as he explained.

You texted him, asking him if he was able to come see you to approve everything so you order the material.

Fer answers you while he opens the door of his home. He was still ashamed about the picture situation. He could sense the change in your attitude before and after that picture.

"I need your help, I don't think I can walk upstairs by myself." Pedri whine, he drank more than he should, making him dizzy.

Fer helps him, carrying him while walking upstairs. "Pedri. You need to help me just a bit."

He feels bad, he doesn't want to celebrate alone. All his teammates with their partners and kids and he's alone.

Yes, he has his parents, his brother, this family and friends. But he needs a hug at night when he gets insecure. He needs a shoulder to cry.

He craves intimacy, not sexual intimacy. He wants to feel secure with someone to the point of trusting all his worries and deepest secrets.

He wants someone to know his family, to sit at his parents' table and have a relationship with them.

"I'm sad," he confess. "Am I allowed to be sad?"

Fer can't even understand where this is coming from. He never saw signs of Pedri being sad or never heard anybody telling him to suck it up.

"Pepi, you can be sad." He reassured him. "Why are you sad? Tell me"

Pedri just shakes his head, not even sure how to approach the topic. "I miss my life back when I was twenty."

Fer understood, his brother carries a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially now with the whole <he needs to bring the ballon d'or home just like Messi>

"How can I help you, pepi?"

"If you have a magic wand that can bring me back to when I was happy and didn't have to fuck a girl every night to feel something, please use it."

He frowns, not sure how to reassure his brother. He knew Pedri felt alone. He can tell. He told him off about his sex life.

Not shaming him, but making him understand that the pattern he was following was not healthy at all.

"I can help you by not leaving you alone." He hugs him, pating his back lightly to calm him down. "I'm here, always will."

He helps Pedri take his clothes off and get into bed, he wants to check him in case he feels down again.

Once Pedri is passed out, he tries to plan something, how can he help him?

He picks his phone to text his mom that they're home. He sees the last text he sent is to you. The light bulb on his head turns.

He can help him, he's not with anyone, not that girl at the party and is done with the playtime every other week.

If he asks him to go to the meeting and approve the things you need, you can meet and reconnect.

He just needs his brother to be ready tomorrow to meet you. He knows he still thinks about you, and you might still do the same.

He texts you, asking you to meet at four p.m., by that time his brother will be up and fresh to see you.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr added to his close friends

"I don't even want to be near a drink in my life." Pedri makes a disgusted face, he needs a whole gallon of water.

"Finish the drink so we can go."

The drink looks bad, very bad. Even tho it was just a tea with no sugar. "Maybe I'll just go brush my teeth."

Fer feels excited. He wants his plan to go well. He's anxious but happy. He knows it's about time you two make a move and solve what needs to be solved.

"Vamos, big head." Pedri smack the back of Fer head. "You drive, I can't do nothing yet."

The trip was not as long as usual. The streets were lonely and Fer was driving slowly. He confirmed you were coming before leaving the house.

When he parked, he noticed Marc's car parked in front of the building. To his luck, the parking lot was being modified, so he needed to park in the nearby building.

"Oye, I'll find somewhere to park. There's a little office, white door to the left. Wait for me there."

He does as he's told, walking with his head down. Still feeling the pain from all the drinking he did.

"Hola?" He asks, opening the door a little before entering.

He looks at all the things on the walls, the chair textures, the floor wood, the bar design, the lamps options.

He's in love with all the ideas, with the little real-life version of what the restaurant will look like. With the little pink pen notes the designer left. The door opening can't bother him. Looking at all the planning that they made in so little time.

You can't even blame him, you weren't paying much attention either. Focusing on answering Marc's text about something related to a change that needed to he approved as soon as possible.

"Hola Fer. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to greet you properly. I've been so busy with all this little things."

You open your bag to search for your iPad, wanting to show him everything quickly to move out and not waste more time.

Pedri turns quickly, the sound of your voice amazes him. You're there after so long. After all this time.

"Hey about the Marble, I think it's best if we just switch the whole piece. This is taking so long." You won't turn, he won't say a word. "Fer?"

The two of you are just standing there, looking at each other, no words in between. Nothing.

Pedri thought a lot about what would happen if he ever saw you again. Definitely all that planning went out the window the second he heard your voice.

You practice too, what if you find him in a bar some day in Barcelona? You wouldn't mind it. But you're minding it very well.

"Hola." You finally say, voice breathless and gone.

His eyes are rooming you up and down. He can't help but point at every little detail that's different about you, different in a good way. You feel the heat coming up your cheeks. He's there, looking more mature, more handsome.

You shake your head, you have one job to do, getting the changes approved to the project move forward.

"Is your brother coming? Because I really need him to approve this for me." You grab your iPad, tying to look uninterested.

"Oh, I can approve it." He extend his hand and you hand him the device. "Just explain to me what this is exactly?"

While you explain every little detail about the changes, showed him how it was before to compare and to see if he likes it.

He likes everything, but there's something about the way you talk, something about the way you smell, you didn't change that perfume you love.

"I like your hair." Your hair is longer. He loves that. You always talked about wanting to let it grow to try new hairstyles.

You smile, the closeness not helping the situation. "Thank you." You say softly.

You might act calm, but from the inside, you're about to burst because of the way he looks. It's a good thing he changed his style.

Also his perfume, he's using the same perfume you gave him once, he didn't change it. And that facial hair is gone, he's shaved and clean.

"Do you like how everything is, or do you want to make any more changes?" You ask, trying to act professional.

"I mean, you're a star. This looks amazing." He praise you. Making you feel a wave of pride. "Fer will love this."

Your smile grows, you're happy he likes the changes. But you like even more the way he's praising you work like never before.

"So how are you?"

You close the iPad, sending Marc an "approval" copy of the digital prototype. "I'm good, been working hard and I've been busy with it." You shrug, not sure what else to say. "Congrats on the UCL, I heard you guys won."

He smiles, winning the game with his two goals was more than he ever expected. "We did, thank you."

"two goals huh?" You tease him. Feeling a little confident.

He rolls his eyes playfully. Laughing at your teasing. "I'm kind of proud of that, I'm in my Messi era? Or something like that."

You both laugh, you missed this, miss having someone to joke to. You back away from his circle, haven't seen his friends since then, when you are in Tenerife you won't go to his parents Tasca.

You missed having someone from your past in Barcelona. Someone who knew you before the city, someone who knew you as well as he did.

"That's great." You pat his arm. "I guess I'll see you around." You walk with him to the entrance. "Tell your brother I'll text him, I still need to show him some things."

"Sure, if not, you can text me. It won't hurt if I get a little more involved." He throws the jab at you, noticing your little lip smile.

"I'll ask your brother to send me your number." You say, stopping in from of the exit door. "Bye." You walk over the construction area, he can't keep his eyes away from you.

When he's out, Fernando is waiting for him in his car, the smile he has, knowing what he did. He acts as if nothing happened, he couldn't find parking and wait for you.

"Hey, was everything looking good?"

Pedri scuff, shaming his head while smiling. "Hijo'puta" he jokes, hitting him in the head. "You didn't told me she was here"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Joder, she looks beautiful. Her smile hasn't changed at all, and her eyes, mierda, are shining like crazy."

Fernando is happy hearing Pedri talk about you, he haven't seen him this happy in a long time. Haven't talk about anyone like this in a long time.

"Her perfume, Dios mio. She hasn't changed that perfume, the same since we met." He's still rambling about you. "You didn't tell me, why?"

"I thought it was for the best, plus you were finding out once you started coming."

"Would it be crazy if I confess that I might be in love still?"

The smile on their faces is comical. Fer knew he never forgot you, and Pedri was just admitting it out loud.

"No." He laughs. "You have one more chance, dude. Don't blow it."

And he doesn't.

Every chance he gets now, he will visit the place. He will be there even tho there's nothing of interest happening.

He loves making small talk with you. Having you explain everything you do or everything you order.

It's weeks and weeks of him doing this, bringing you a coffee or drink every time. You can't help but smile at him, still remembering your order of drink.

Also if he has training in the evenings, he will bring you something to eat for lunch. Worrying because you don't give yourself a little break. In his words.

"This is what I was telling you the other day. If you put this on the bar, it will look better than this other one." You show him, thinking he's playing attention.

"Let me take you out on a date."

You smile, not sure what to say. You want to accept, you still have feelings for him. But you don't want to feel what you used to feel when you were with him.

"Please, I know a place you would love."

"Pedri, I don't think it's a good idea. We are working together and if this doesn't go well its just going to be awkward for us."

"It will not, please just give me a chance." he beggs, grabbing your hands. "If you don't like it or you don't feel good I promise I will back off."

His hands on yours, thumbs caressing your fingers. You want to say no, not repeating the pattern. But you want to give him the chance his asking.

"Vale, but you have to promise me that you won't wear those ugly skinny jeans."

He laughs, he knows how much you used to hate those kind of jeans. Always asking him to let you into his closet to get rid of them.

"If you want to you can dress me, I'll be Ken and you can style me all the way."

You shake your head no while laughing, "I don't think you'll like me throwing half your closet."

If you had. A chance back then, those Jean shorts and skinny jeans were a must in the out of the closet list.

"Let's go tonight, I'll pick you up and everything."

You nod, writing your address in a pink post it. Thing that make him smile, you loved leaving little notes for him everywhere in his house or car.

"pick me up by 8?" You ask, making him nod. "Te veo entonces." You kiss his cheek goodbye.

You do your best work trying to act normal. When you're on your car you let a big scream. You were excited.

It's been six years, obviously it was nerve breaking.

You hurry home, you have time to calmly change and get ready. You picked a nice outfit, nothing too casual or too formal. The perfect middle point.

You have a long everything shower. Making sure to be as smooth as possible. It's not like you're thinking about doing anything but just to be sure.

Pedri was doing basically the same thing, making sure everything is clean and nice for the night.

He even make sure his car is in neat condition, asking Fer to go to a car wash to get it ready.

"You look fine, niño." Fer reassure him again. "vete ya, or you'll be late."

"Deseame suerte."

"You don't need it, just don't fuck this up and you'll be fine." Fer laughs.

You pass around your livingroom, you boots heel making a sound with every strep. You wanted this to go well.

The doorbell made you freeze. You check mentally if everything is good. Check yourself on the little mirror before opening the door.

"Hola, guapa."

"Hola." You blush a little at the compliment. "What is this?"

He hands you the small bouquet of your favorite flower. "A little souvenir from me, to you."

You small at the little game of words, you taught him that. Every time you got him something you used to say that to him.

You like how he tries to fix the past by not making the same mistakes, he bought you flowers, like you say you wanted back then.

"Gracias, get in, I'll put them on water."

He checks your house, he can't deny that he loves your taste, always did. You have a beautiful house.

His eyes land on a specific blanket, he gifted you that on your second anniversary. He remembered that you wanted the blanket and since he was winning some money on Las Palmas. He went out and got it for you.

"You still have this?" He caresses the material. Memories of how happy you were when you got the gift.

You check what he was talking about, smiling a little when you see what he means. "I do. I love that blanket." You grab your bag and stand next to him. "Plus, I usually watch movies or take naps on the couch, so it's the perfect location."

You walk to your door, making him follow you. "I didn't think you had it still."

"That means you don't have any of the gifts I've ever given you?" You joke, knowing most of the things you gave him were clothes.

He thinks for a second, he does have a ring you gave him for his birthday, he loves that ring. Or the bracelet with an eight engraved.

"I do." he smile, he had everything you gifted him. "I have the ring you gave me when I turned eighteen."

When you walk to the car you see a black Lexus. "Where is the Porsche?" You ask as he opens the door for you.

"Had to upgrade a little bit."

You see a crazy clean car, smelling fresh. You laugh a little, he was never this clean with his car.

The drive to the place was confortable, he asked you about your past works and you asked him about football. The usual.

Dinner was fine, you did liked the place and the food. He was right about it. He even ordered dessert and acted as if the waitress had forgotten the other one just to share it with you.

"It was amazing, thank you very much." You say, turning back to face him as you reach your front door. "I had so much fun"

He steps closer to you, hands on your waist. "That means this is me winning my chance with you?"

Your breathing accelerates. His closeness is making things to you. The tip of his nose is touching yours. You nod at his question, unable to say something.

He smiles, he can tell by your accelerate breathing and the way your hands are on his arms that you don't mind him being this close.

He lay his head on your shoulder, hands on your back and thumbs caressing your sides. Your hands roam his arms. Scratching lightly.

"You have practice tomorrow." You say as you finally get some sense back into you. "And it's getting late."

"I think they will be fine without me there. I just won us the UCL."

His breathing on your neck is tempting. But you want to take things slowly, you want to take baby steps with him.

"I don't." You try to think of an excuse on why he can't stay. "I don't have an extra toothbrush."

He laughs, understanding the message. He wants to go slowly too, proving that he's not the same one who hurt you.

Plus, you are not one of his one night stands, he doesn't want you to feel like one. "Oh no! That means I have to go home." He kiss your collarbone and pull away from you.

You fix a piece of his hair, hand on his arm, securing yourself. "I like your hair like this." Your nails brush his hair. Making him close his eyes at the sensation.

"I'll come see you after training." He pulls away from you. "I really want to take you out again, I missed this."

"I would love that." You kiss his cheek goodbye. Entering you house and waving him a quick goodbye.

The whole trip home was him and his mom on the phone. He always trusted Rosy with anything, her and his father were the first people he calls when something good or bad happens.

He's mad, throwing his phone on the coffee table next to him.

He doesn't understand how people get to judge him based on things that are not related to football. On the field, he does the work. He makes sure he does assists, he even got some goals like the two of the last game.

He's good, he won't say otherwise. It took him so much effort to admit that he's as good as everybody else and saying he's not is unfair to his work and progress.

"Don't mind the things people say on the internet about you."

"I can't help it. Those random dudes on x saying things about me as if they know me."

"Their opinion don't matter." You pull him by the shoulders. He lays on top of you, hiding his face on the crock of your neck. "Don't let a random person affect your day."

You two have been seeing each other for three months, he makes sure to always go check on you after or before practice.

Always bring you something, some flowers, some coffee or a drink. Something to eat. Named it, and it'll be there.

He loves how much you two progress, and you love how much he showed you he changed, how much different he is from who he was back in the day.

"Don't go to work today, stay with me." He pouts.

You smile, nails scratching his scapl. "I have to go, either way your brother will be blowing my phone with questions and worries about every other thing."

"Block him." He jokes, knowing that Fernando was a perfectionist and wants this project to be as perfect as possible. "Seriously do." He kiss your shoulder before getting off of you.

"If I do I'll be fired." You joke back.

He makes a face. "They can't fire you. I'll get you back in." kissing your lips as he hugs your waist, head on your lap. "I don't want to do anything today."

Your fingers scratch his head, trying to calm him down. "I'll be here later, we can watch something on tv."

He nods, loving the feeling of your hands on his hair. Calming down from his frustration. He missed that, the level of confort, not needing to hide to feel intimacy, he missed feeling happy with a girl.

"I wish I could stay, but right now, I'm the one who calms your brother down when he gets perfectionist with every little detail." He understood, enjoying the feeling of being in your arms.

✨️✨️✨️

"Am I crazy or are the lights way too yellow?" Fer asks, judging every little detail he feels is wrong. "And the material, do you think is okay?"

You wanted to laugh, this was a very common thing with clients, they all freak out with the progress.

"Fernando, please don't worry. I promise this would look amazing in a few weeks when things are more placed and organized."

He nods, going to question Marc about something he thought was not right. You move to your office, wanting to organize your things.

You answer Pedri's text, and he told you he was bored and lonely without you. You laugh and answer with a picture of your messy desk.

You hear a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" When you see who it is, your eyes light up.

"Oh my God! Hello." You say happily.

"How are you, nena? I missed you."

"I've been good, working like crazy. You know me, kinda workaholic." You laugh. "How are you? How's Fernando and how's the Tasca doing?"

"We're fine, the Tasca is doing great, a lot of people. You need to go back and pay us a visit." Rosy says, taking a seat next to you. "Fer told me you were working with them, I'm so happy for you."

You love Rosy, she was like a mother to you. She took care of you when you needed it. She cooked for you, she went to your high school graduation when your family couldn't.

She was special to you, really loved her like a family, the same with Fernando. They were family.

You got away from them after the breakup, you needed space and so did Pedri. You thought that invading his space by being near his family was wrong. That's why when you were on Tenerife you didn't went out to see them.

"I am, I didn't know it was them when I got into the project. I'm happy I did. I've missed them."

You talk for a while about different topics, mostly her telling you about all the things that happened all this years.

You also told her about your years, how you ended up with this job and how it was. It was nice to have the talk you two had.

"I missed you, I miss my daughter." She confess. You smile at that. You missed them too.

"I missed you too, sorry I didn't come back to your place. I thought it was the right thing to do after the breakup."

"I get it." She grabs your hands. "Pedri also told me that you guys were trying to see if things work out again."

You smile, nodding. "We are, I feel like we both want that and I feel this is the right thing to do."

"I hope it works out for you two, I want my girl back." She hugs you.

You two talk a little more until Fer went looking for his mom. You grab your things and walk with them to the entrance. You all say goodbye to Marc, asking him to text or call you if he needs anything.

You say goodbye to them, saying that you will call Fer to meet up for lunch on another occasion.

✨️✨️✨️

"Do you want a little smoothie?" You ask Pedri as he walked downstairs. "I made a banana and strawberry one."

He nods, walking over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder and your neck.

"I have training at two." He says in a raspy voice. "And I have to pack, will you help me, preciosa?"

You nod, passing him a glass with smoothie. You kiss his forehead and fix his hair a little. "We can work on your luggage after training. I have a meeting and I can't keep missing work." You bop his nose.

He smirks, he knows you work hard, but you have been missing some days of work thanks to him. You didn't have that much problem since they were the one who hired you, and Marc was okay with your working from home.

"I'll pick you up after practice." He smile, kissing you. "I'll get us some food and we can watch your favorite movie while you help me."

You both enjoy your smoothies, talking a little about different topics. Not caring about anything else but each others company.

He planned to ask you to go to the ceremony with him in Paris, he wanted you there, he needed you as much as his family there.

He went to practice, the technical team and his teammates organized him and Gavi a little celebration for good luck.

"I need to know what cream this dude is using because those bags under his eyes disappeared in no time." Raphinha jokes. Hugging him.

They are all in the bathroom, having a chat while getting clean and fresh to go home.

"He's using vitamin love." Ferran jokes from the bathroom. "He's a lover boy now."

They all hit Pedri's head while congratulating him about being in love. He enjoys the messing.

"Venga, this is not a crazy new." He says, fixing his hair.

"It is." Fermin says, hitting the back of his head. "You were the whore of the group and Ferran is here, take that in."

"Mira capullo, I'm a saint." Ferran yells.

"Joer', it was not that bad." He tried to justify himself.

"It was." Gavi says. "That why we are happy that you have a stable relationship. With someone you love and who loves you." Gavi hugs him. Making all the others hug him too.

After the shower chat, he left looking for some flowers, looking for some fresh food from your favorite place, your favorite dessert.

He knocks on your door. When you open, you're greeted by a big bouquet of flowers, you smile taking them from him.

"Hola." He smiles. "You look so pretty." He close the gap between you two kissing your lips. "I have our dinner in the car, ready to go?" You nod, putting your flowers in a pot before leaving with him.

Your relationship has improved, you love the effort he's making.

When you broke up, you told him he didn't have time for you, that he never gave you flowers, he never cared for you to feel like you matter to him.

He wants to change that. He wants you to feel validated, and he wants you to feel loved. Because he loves you and would change a thing about you.

"I have a little something for you." You say, picking the little box and putting it in your purse. "Let's go, guapo."

He asks about it, questioning you about the content inside the box. You told him that he has to wait until later to find out.

When you two arrive at his house, you help him with his bag. Talking about something you saw on tv the other day.

"I forgot to tell you, Gavi and Ferran say hi." He says as you walk into his room. Food in hand. "And Ferran wants to know if you can unlock him on Instagram." He laughs.

You laugh with him, promising you will do it later. You left your phone charging downstairs, so he had to wait.

"Do you know what you want to take?" You ask him, your eyes fixed on the screen as you search for your movie. "It's cold, and you have to have some outfits just in case. What if you got an outing that needs something formal?"

He nods. "I have a list on my phone of what I want to take, some cargos, a bumper jacket, the suits are being taken by Dolce."

He pulls a luggage, opening it on the bed so you can help him pick the clothes and help him with organizing.

It was a fun time. You ate while organizing and feeding him most of his food to help him some more.

"Oye." He calls your attention. "I want to speak with you about something."

You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of you. "Tell me."

He takes a deep breath. He needs to be prepared for a bad answer in case you don't feel comfortable with the invitation.

"I want you to know that no matter what, you can say no, and I'll be okay with that." He began saying. "I want you to come with me to the ceremony." He says.

He takes a few more breaths. Trying to prepare himself for the question. "I want you to come with me and my family. I want you all there. My mom, my dad, Fer, and you." He grabs your hands. "The thing here is, I know our relationship is not established as in right now, but I want to know if you would like to come with me as my girlfriend."

You smile. Thumbs caressing his hands.

You need to talk with him before compromising yourself again.

Yes, he did progress. Yes, he did change. Yes, he was better.

But you can't swipe things under the rug. You can't be one of those who start over without making peace with the past.

"Can you sit down with me?"

He nods, taking a seat next to you. He thinks you're saying no, preparing himself for that.

"I want to talk to you." You began. "Before answering your questions, I need you to compromise with me on something."

He nods, already agreeing with whatever you want to say.

"I need you to compromise and tell me if you ever feel like what we have is bothering you. If what we do is making you question our relationship. I want you to be honest with me. To trust me and to be straightforward with how you feel and how I make you feel."

He's surprised, he thought he was getting bad news but no.

"If we are doing this again, Pepi, talk to me." You giggle. "I want your honesty, I want your opinions, I want the long run with you. But I need a compromise." You grab his hands. "I'm not getting younger, I want a family, I want someone to come home to after a long day, after a sad day or just after work. Someone to spend my weekends with watching something or reading a book. And if you can't do that or simply just don't want to. It's okay." You smile at him. "Just be honest."

He frees his hands, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "I promise you that I will be the most honest person you'll ever know." He smiles. "I promise that you never were a bother and never will. I want the same as you, I want everything."

You hug him tightly. Sitting on his lap as his hands roam up and down your back.

It felt right. It felt necessary.

You finally got your past to be friends with your present.

"Now about what I asked, if you could answer." He says, giggling a little.

"Yes, to everything." You kiss his lips.

"Also about the gift?" He asks, curious.

"Yeah, you'll wait more than just a few minutes." You say, caressing his cheeks. "But I'll be worthy."

✨️✨️✨️

"Do I look fat in this tuxedo?" Fer asks.

Everyone in the room takes a look at him, questioning if it was the nerves of the situation or if he was serious.

"No." His father says, he wanted to laugh but kept it.

They continue helping with getting ready, leaving soon after everything seems under control.

Pedri and you were alone, finishing with your clothes and looks for the gala. You reassure him that his tux and hair looked good.

"Amor, everything will go the way it is supposed to go." You kiss him quickly. "Trust yourself."

He nods, hugging you to calm his nerves. He can't deny that he's not feeling as confident as he says in the news or interviews.

A knock on the door makes you separate. "Pedri, ready?" His manager asks.

He nods, taking a last look of himself in the mirror. When he's about to leave, your eyes caught the glare of the little box in the nightstand.

"Wait, your gift." You say, walking to the furniture and grabbing the box to take it to him. "Open it before we leave."

You were excited for him to see what's inside. You kept it a surprise until today, knowing he would be less nervous like this.

"How?" He asks, taking the tux bow out of the box. He recognized the piece. "I thought I lost it."

You smile. The bow has a meaning for him. He bought it before leaving to play for Las Palmas. He spent a good part of his savings on it.

"You told me, before leaving the island, that this was the bow you were going to wear when you got your first ballon d'or." You help him with taking the bow he has on and putting the new one in place. "And tonight, this is happening."

He feels his eyes getting teary. He can't help but think about his little self buying the bow at the local shop.

He knew back then that no matter what, he was going to work hard to get into that nominations and into the podium.

And he did.

"Te amo." He kiss you quickly. "Ahora vamos por ese jodido balón." He laughs, making you laugh. (I love you. Now let's go get that damn ballon)

pedri

Liked by pablogavi, fcbarcelona and 3

8,566,730 others

pedri De las mejores noches de mi vida ❤️

Thank you Culers for all the love and support. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. This is not only mine but yours too ❤️

View all 2,465,739 comments

fcbarcelona Our winner 🏆❤️💙

ferrantorres grande hermano ❤️8️⃣🐐

leomessi felicidades Pedri 🐐 bienvenido al club de campeones 💪🏻

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @mbappe-pedri @coco6514 @coco657 @gavisfanta @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris @dessxoxsworld @girlidekanymore @lanussysworld @largavidaalsol

[hellsquills]

Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want

My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)

My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.

However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.

Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????

He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.

And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.

Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.

Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.

In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.

One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.

He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.

He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".

He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).

"Ya'lright, son?"

The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."

He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.

" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"

Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.

"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.

"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."

Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-

"Sweet Mother of God almighty."

Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"

The fuck?

"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.

"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.

The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.

"Are you Stanley Pines?"

Well, that's about it.

Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.

"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."

Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.

"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."

This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.

"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."

"Listen, I-"

"Move out of my way."

"I know your brother."

The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.

"You look just like him-"

Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.

The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.

"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"

It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?

Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.

"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."

Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.

He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.

"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."

Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.

"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."

Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.

Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.

"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."

______________________________

Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.

Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol

Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.

In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)

I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory

[cherry-pop-elf]

New Chapter

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want the best for her

SUM: Anya gets an abortion so you and the rest of the crew wait for her. You were the first one, however, to see her after surgery. Also because fuck you, abortion rights

Warnings: Abortion, sexual assault, jimmy, medical situations, abortion rights, domestic happy family

“How long is it gonna take?” Daisuke asked, as he was worried but also excited. Excited for Anya to feel better. Worried for well….Not like he’s had the best reactions to medical situations. Example A being Curly in the wheelchair next to him.

Curly was doing so much better now that he was actually on the planet again. The doctors were still jaw dropped that Anya was able to keep him alive with so little. Was not only a testimony to how she refused for him to die, but him refusing to leave his crew behind as well. It’s still a long journey ahead, but he was in clean bandages and clothes at least. Was even able to talk again. Sorta. Rather raspy but he will get there.

Jeez where to start on how you all got here to begin with.

“She’s going to be fine. Abortion is way less invasive than you think. It really depends on how far along, but luckily she isn’t too far for it to be to extreme. Not sure what type she went for, but whatever she chose she chooses. Just grateful we were able to return home before she reached to far along.” You would admit, as you would check up on Curly’s IV bag for him. Taking over Anya’s roll until she could return.

“Ya know….My wife had an abortion.” Swansea said, and it made all of you look over to him in pure surprise.

“What’s the funny look for? Ya think I’m a freak that would refuse my wife that? She needed it! The kid just….It ain’t my place, but the kid just wasn’t gonna survive. Either she carried it to term and die with em, or she just skips the heart ache. Not like it was her fault. We got two healthy girls at the end of the day. We got em because she got rid of that fucked up one.” He explained, as Daisuke seemed wide eyed in respect.

Explains why he snapped more clearly.

Anya had explained to Swansea what had happened, and before you pre Daisuke knew it Jimmy’s head was sliced off and rolling across the kitchen floor. Poor Suke threw up all over you from the sight, and shock. Then threw up again when he learned why he did such a thing. Lots of puking and crying. Fitting.

“Glad that damn company is dead. Whose wise idea was it to have a single woman surrounded by men. No offense you two-“ Curly would wheeze, before you would help him take his medication. Sure is easier to take pills when you actually give him water and take it slow. No choking or crying.

“Thats a can of worms I don’t want us to talk about.” Swansea would scoff. As a father to two girls he had a lot of things to say. Daisuke would be willing to listen, sure, but honestly you all had enough emotional fatigue to last multiple life times.

Thank god Curly was so high up on the food chain at the company. They knew they would get into more hot water if their, once, top captain suddenly vanished. Wouldn’t make their bankruptcy any smoother. For once they did the right thing and sent Simeon to save them.

Funny. A capitalist corporate organization took responsibility for their actions. For the right reasons? No. But they still took it. Strange. Isn’t it?

“Is she done yet?” Daisuke would whine, as you laughed at his childish nature. As if waiting on a sister to get out of the dentists office. You found it rather endearing honestly. That despite it all he was still having a heart full of love and excitement.

“Go play on your toy.” Swansea would grumble, as Suke whined. Regardless he would pull out his game boy. A nice excuse to play video games with out any guilt on wasting his time. Enjoying life shouldn’t be a burden.

“Need anything, Curly?” You would ask him, since you planned on going to the bathroom. Yeah Swansea and Daisuke could handle him, but you still wanted to be polite. Maybe you could grab him something from the vending machines. Maybe a soda. Some sugar in his system would do him good. Anya said that sugary bubble water of some kind, like sprite, can help quite a lot with indigestion.

“I should be fine. Thank you for asking though. Sorry you have to…” He would admit, as he looked himself over. His missing limbs now properly covered up with fabric to keep them clean, and allow him some kind of independence. The fabric on the stumps were padded. With enough practice and effort he would certainly be able to roll himself around.

Then again this was a world of space travel. He was going to get cyborged eventually, but you need to be healed first before such an intense operation. Can’t rush something like this.

“Hey. I do it because I can. Not because I have to. You are our captain. Let me be a good solider.” You teased him, and even in his broken face you could see a smile.

Swansea have you a head nod to indicate he would ‘take care of the boys’ and you were off to use the restroom.

Once done with that you would grab a soda from the vending machine for Curly, a bag of candy for Daisuke, and some pretzels for Swansea. As you were making your way back a nurse would motion you over.

“Miss Anya was asking for you. She has finished her operation, and wanted you to see her.”

You were surprised at that. You expected Curly to be her first guest. Did something go wrong? Oh you couldn’t help but freak out.

You followed after the nurse quickly, and all you were shown was Anya resting in her hospital bed. Tired, but relieved. Mostly. You saw that familiar stress in her eyes. That same stress she had when asking you if she made the right choice in asking Jimmy for help with medicating Curly.

That worry of if I did the right thing.

The nurse would leave you to alone, and you would quickly set the snacks aside. Now you were sitting next to her, in a chair, and holding her hand. Ready to be the shoulder she needed.

“Hey there Doc. How you doing?” You asked her, as you carefully stroked the back of her hand. Made sure to be mindful of all the tubes and wires.

“Well….It went far smoother than I expected. It was just so quick. They didn’t even need to put me under. The IV is more so for the issues I already had because of being stranded on the ship for so long. It was just so quick. So painless. Was just like pulling a thorn out of an arm. It was….Simple.” She would try and explain to you. Needing to make sure to stop herself before using doctor jargon.

“Too easy?” You puzzled.

“Yes. It was just….I expected pain. Pain and anxiety and horror. Suppose even a nurse can come to learn a thing or two…..”

She was hiding something, and you had an educated guess on what.

“You expected Jimmy to break down the door. Weren’t you?”

There was silence, but it told you everything.

“Scoot over. Move it sister-“ You were now crawling into the medical bed with her, moving the wires around, and soon snuggled into her side. Hugging her close, and especially with your arm over her stomach.

“You did the right thing. It’s your body at the end of it all. You took responsibility of taking care of yourself. You wouldn’t have been able to live a proper life. You went to med school. You don’t need me to tell you the horrors of pregnancy and birth. That alone is terrifying. But also you simply not wanting to be pregnant is enough. Ain’t no Jimmy’s gonna storm in and say otherwise.” You huffed, as she smiled. Her head leaning into yours.

“Yeah….No more Jimmy’s. Pretty sure Swansea will make sure of that.” She did her best to joke, and you were proud of her for it. This whole ordeal was hell. Hell none of you will ever truly walk away from. But that’s ok. You all had each other to lean on.

“I think I’m ready for everyone now.” Anya would whisper, as you gave her hand a squeeze. You were so proud of her. This was all such a nightmare, but she’s taking it in stride.

“Hell yeah.” You agreed, before climbing out of the bed. You made sure to grab the snacks, and exited the hospital room.

“Come on guys-! Anya is waiting on you-!” You shameless shouted outside of the room. She couldn’t help her face palm. Daisuke sure was an influence on you.

“I wanna push Curly!”

“Like hell you are-!”

They would bicker away, before Curly said ‘fuck it’ and did his best to roll himself over. He sure was a stubborn one. Made it half way before you figured that was enough work out for one person.

“Pretty far! Getting better at it-!” You encouraged, as the two men realized how far Curly rolled off on before finally following you two into Anya’s room.

“HAPPY NO BIRTH-DAY!” Daisuke would cheer, as Anya shook her head at such a joke.

“God dammit kid-“ Swansea side, before he came over to Anya. Giving her head a kiss. Just comforting her much like a father would.

“How many of us need to be in medical beds?” Curly would give a raspy snort, as Anya reached her hand out. He would lean his head over, and she would give it a stroke. As if all his hair never burned off. A means of holding his hand, in a way, compared to just grasping a limb.

She didn’t need children.

She had all of you.

What else could a woman want?

Since you were willing to read through this story to the end, and get a nice in depth look on the importance of such why not donate to some organizations? : D

Planned Parenthood

Nation Network For Abortion Funds

National Abortion Federation

The Bridge Alliance

The Satanic Temple

ActBlue

No worry on donating. Spreading awareness and signing petitions still help! The more people learn and understand the better! Could also like reblog with other organizations or petitions!

Abortion is healthcare!

[paisleypens]

SPENCER AGNEW!? SHARING HOODIE?

omg imagine :))))

IMAGINE OMG I LOVE HIM SO COMFY SO COZY

spill it | spencer agnew x reader

~~~

While you loved the chaos of being a PA for the Smosh Games channel, some days you just needed some peace. Luckily enough you found it in your coworker Spencer Agnew. The relationship had started innocently enough. A few late nights working on the new Games set had turned into shared jokes, then dinners, and soon enough, something more. But for the sake of professionalism, you both decided to keep it a secret from the rest of the office. The late-night texts, stolen kisses behind closed doors, and hushed conversations had become your norm. Tonight, however, felt special.

"Hey, you wanna come over tonight?" Spencer asked quietly, leaning closer as you both tested a new controller on the Games stage.

"Sure," you replied, your heart doing a little flip at the thought of spending more time with him.

Later that evening, you found yourself at Spencer's apartment, cozy and warm. After a quiet dinner and a movie, you were both curled up on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. As the night grew colder, Spencer noticed you shivering slightly.

"Here," he said, grabbing one of his hoodies from the back of the couch. "Take this. You’ll be warmer."

"Thanks," you smiled, slipping it on and reveling in the comfort it provided. You hadn't planned on staying the night, but as you snuggled closer, you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sunlight streaming through the windows. Realizing you were running late, you quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, still wearing Spencer's hoodie. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the Smosh office that you realized what you had done. Panic set in, but there was no time to go back and change.

As you walked into the office, you tried to act normal. However, it wasn’t long before Courtney noticed the hoodie.

"Nice hoodie," she said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Isn’t that Spencer's?"

Your cheeks flushed bright red as you tried to think of a plausible excuse. "Oh, uh, yeah. He lent it to me because I was cold."

Courtney raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Right. Just cold."

As the day went on, more people started to notice. Shayne gave you a knowing look, and Damien couldn’t help but tease you a little.

"Didn't know Spencer was into sharing his clothes," Damien joked, winking at Spencer who was equally flustered.

By lunchtime, the secret was out. Spencer and you were cornered by the rest of the crew in the commons.

"Okay, spill it," Olivia demanded playfully. "How long have you two been a thing?"

Seeing no point in denying it any longer, you and Spencer exchanged a glance before admitting the truth. "A few months," Spencer said, squeezing your hand under the table.

"About time!" Ian Hecox exclaimed. "We were wondering when you two would finally come clean. You have some paperwork to fill out."

“He has had those papers on deck for months.” Anthony chuckled before handing Ian five bucks.

Relief washed over you as the initial awkwardness dissolved into lighthearted teasing and genuine support. It turned out, keeping the secret had been more stressful than it was worth.

As the day came to an end, Spencer pulled you aside. "You okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You nodded, smiling up at him. "Yeah. Actually, I’m glad they know. It’s a relief."

"Me too," he said, pulling you into a hug. "And hey, you look cute in my hoodie."

Blushing, you stood on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. "Thanks. Maybe I’ll borrow it more often."

Spencer grinned. “Anytime. Now, how about we go get dinner? I know a place.”

“You always know a place.” you giggled.

And with that, you and Spencer walked out of the office together, no longer a secret but something even better – a couple who could finally be themselves.

[peachdues]

The Thing About Genya — WIP (daddy!Sanemi x Lunar Hashira)

Shhhhhh

Major thank you to @umekohiganbana for reminding me about Genya and how Sanemi needs to fix that ASAP

Post- Bundle of Joy

NSFW teaser included at the bottom.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“You only noticed me because I was bleeding all over you,” Y/N corrected. “And you only continued to pay attention to me because you thought I had a ‘kickass breathing style.’”

Sanemi rolled his eyes, lifting the feeding bottle back to his infant daughter’s mouth. “I did notice other things, too ya know.” He grumbled.

Y/N laughed softly and Sanemi felt his cheeks heat, her smile still capable of making him blush even two years after he’d begun warming her bed.

“All I’m saying is if you want Genya to leave the Corps, there might be a better way to do it that doesn’t involve maiming him.”

Y/N leaned over and smacked her lips against his cheek before ducking to peck their happily gurgling baby’s head, and sauntered off to the couple’s private bath.

Sanemi’s eyes trailed the Lunar Pillar’s retreating form until she disappeared from sight before turning his attention back to his daughter.

“And what do you think, my little flower?” He cooed, his daughter’s eyes crinkling in a wide smile as Sanemi brushed his nose against hers. “My plan’s better, right?”

The infant girl pulled off the feeding bottle, her tiny mouth twisting down. She coughed once, and Sanemi swiftly put her over his shoulder, against the small cloth he’d draped there to shield his bare back from her impending spit-up.

“Tch, since when do you side with Mama?” He grumbled, lightly patting his daughter’s back. She gurgled, signaling that she had finished upchucking her late dinner over her father’s shoulder.

He brought her back to face him, playfully glaring at her as he kissed her small, chubby cheeks. “Traitor. You’d better cut that shit out right now — or else I’m gonna go put a sibling in your mama’s belly.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Peep below for a NSFW teaser because my lovelies deserve horny Sanemi, always).

“‘Nemi,” Y/N giggled, swatting playfully over her shoulder at her lover. “Not in front of the baby!”

“Why?” Sanemi grinned, raining a trail of kisses down her neck and to her shoulder, his hands squeezing her hips. “She should know how crazy her daddy is for her mama. Besides,” Sanemi pressed his groin slightly into his wife’s tantalizing rear, causing her to shoot her hand out to steady herself on the doorway. “She can’t see when I do this.”

Y/N glanced furtively back at their daughter, who was busy giggling at the way her parents’ Kusagi crows pecked at the assortment of seeds and nuts they’d left out for them.

Baby properly distracted, Y/N mischievously ground back once against her lover, his fingers digging into her in warning.

Sanemi suppressed the groan bubbling in his throat, not wanting to call his daughter’s attention away from the crows. He slid his hand from Y/N’s hip to her neck, tilting her head back so he could press his mouth against her ear.

“Send one of the birds to Uzui’s wives. Tell them we need someone to watch her ‘til morning,” he murmured huskily into her ear, Y/N shivering as he grazed her lobe lightly with his teeth. “Make up some excuse, I don’t care. But you’re mine tonight.”

His voice dropped to a low growl. “And you’d better not stay quiet.” He pressed his hardening length sharply into her ass once more, in promise.

Y/N nodded, flushed.

“That’s my girl,” Sanemi grinned, slapping his wife’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze before moving aside, leaving the Lunar Hashira a blushing, bumbling mess behind him.

[live-laugh-lenney]

housewarming makeout - arthurtv.

hello. hello. hello.

i've been in dire need of some arthurtv content and fics and i can't seem to find very much on tumblr so i thought i'd write my own in hopes that it would help me out with all my feels.

let me know what you think.

any comments are much appreciated at the moment. thank you so much!

*

“Where’s Arthur?”

“Where’s YN?”

The two synchronised questions came from outside the storage cupboard in George Clarke’s flat where, at that moment, Arthur had YN held in the confined space between his body and the wall. Darkness swallowed them as they relied solely on the sense of touch to guide them, adding a whole new sensation deep in the tummies, never knowing where the next touch would be. His hair was tousled and sticking in all directions from the way her hands magnetised to his scalp, her ponytail having come loose with tendrils drooping down by her cheeks and catching between their lips from her lipstick which, in the backs of their minds, would be smeared across their mouths. The overshirt, pink and stripy and something that she’d paired with a white bodysuit and a pair of ripped jeans, had fallen and exposed the bare skin of her shoulder and he’d taken full advantage of that, peppering the softest kisses down the crevice of her neck and down the stretch of her collarbone. His lips were swollen from pressing kisses to the expanse of her neck, to her collarbone to her shoulder, and her chest rising and falling rapidly from the rather intense make-out session they had previously been in just seconds ago. 

His plan to leave a mark of his love coming to a halt, their eyes widening, as they realised they were being looked for after having snuck away from the housewarming party George had thrown that evening to delve into something that was a rather common occurrence for the two of them whenever they were together. 

“Arthur-” 

He shushed her, hand tight to her mouth, as he focused on listening to the muffled voices of their friends discussing their whereabouts, just centimeters from the closed door that kept them hidden from the curious eyes looking for them. One voice belonging to George Clarke and the other voice belonging to Christopher Dixon who, just a mere ten minutes ago, was in an in depth conversation with YN about a video idea he was a little skeptical over. One that she’d been happy to be a part of, if necessary, because she loved a shoot when all of them came together for something to be broadcast for a weekly video (no matter whose channel it was going on) and had fun and filmed every moment that happened - and she was all for helping her friends out.

“I only went to go and get a drink from the kitchen and she’d disappeared by the time I came back.”

“Arthur said he was going to the toilet, snuck out the room, but- but I’ve just been to check in there and no one was there.” 

“Do you-”

“Do I think they’ve finally decided to just shag? Coincidence that they both disappeared, if not.”

“George, fucking-”

She was thankful for the darkness in the cupboard as heat rose up the back of her neck and flushed over the expanse of her cheeks, taking in a deep inhale and blowing it back out, her breath hitting Arthur’s clothed shoulder on the exhale. She shuffled on her feet and the motion had her chest brushing against his, accidentally… well, that’s what she would have excused, anyway.

“YN, seriously-”

“What?”

She could feel his breath over her warm skin and she really thought he’d moved away from her in the terror of getting caught, like a deer in headlights, but he hadn’t. He was still there, the scent of his cologne and beer mixing together and making him seem even more delectable to her, and she had a longing in the depths of her belly that just wanted him more and more. A slither of hope that they would just walk away, get back into the midst of the party, and agree that the two of them would be back out when they were ready to show their faces.

But she knew that was pretty much unlikely.

Especially with Chris. Especially with George.

“Do you want to get caught?”

She shakes her head erratically but she felt sudden stupidity when she realised Arthur couldn’t see her gesture, “no.”

“The tension between the two of them tonight, man. Almost felt like we should have forced them into a room to fuck..”

His hands tightened around YN’s waist at the comment and his fingertips dug into the bare skin of her hips, pulling her closer to him, a twinge of electricity shooting up her back as she nestled closer into his front. The urge becoming too much and she let her lips attach to his neck as her fingers combed through the hair at the back of his neck, twisting the strands between her digits and giving them a gentle tug every now and then, his breathing becoming more tense. Licking up the length of his neck, tasting every inch of him, and dragging her lips, soft and gentle enough that it felt like a tickle, as she left a long line of kisses beneath his jaw. 

“Jesus, YN.”

His gentle whimpering only spurred her on, seeing just how far she could take it before enough felt like enough… challenge accepted, she thought to herself, as she kissed up to his ear and nibbled against his earlobe. 

“Do you think they know that we know they have a thing going on?”

“Honestly, they seem oblivious to what everyone else thinks. Their own world. They’re not subtle about hiding it. He practically eye-fucked her as soon as she walked through my door earlier.”

“I mean, she looked incredible tonight though.”

The conversing voices seemed to sound more and more distant as the atmosphere became more and more intense within the four walls of the cupboard. Their worries disappeared for just a moment as he grabbed her face in the palm of his hands and indulged in a kiss that really did make them forget where they were for a while. Back in his flat, both of them drunk on double whiskeys and coke, having spent the night trying to divert their eyes from one another, without a care in the world about being caught. 

They thrived on being mysterious. 

There was an underlying kink neither of them wanted to dwell on - if they had a chance of getting caught then it added to the excitement and it became a thrill of knowing their secret could be blown by the off chance of them being clumsy.

And, upon searching for a bit of leverage in the darkness to hoist her up onto, like a shelf or the top of a column of cardboard boxes that George had yet to unpack in his flat, Arthur had forgotten their drinks that they had placed on top of one of his suitcases in their haste to close the door and start something they’d been longing to do since the start of the housewarming get together. His cautious yet wandering hands knocking both his bottle of Corona and her pink gin and lemonade onto the floor, the thud causing the conversation outside to come to a halt and their bodies to freeze on the spot. 

“Shit.”

“Arthur, for fucks sake.”

“What was that?”

“Did you hear that?”

“What have you got in there? Rats, already?”

“It’s a storage cupboard. I’ve put my unpacked cases and boxes in there because I didn’t have time to pack it all away before you guys came tonight.”

And Arthur and YN didn’t need to see the faces of their friends to know that they’d clocked on. That they’d been caught, mid make-out, mid-party. YN’s head dropped to his shoulder and his head fell against hers, a heavy sigh leaving her lips as her hands dropped from around his neck and fell down to her side, stroking his arms in the process. 

“Wait-”

“We can’t go in there..”

“Why not? We need to-”

“He’s probably balls deep in her right now, George. Do you really want to see that? I don’t.”

She snorted into his shoulder and rolled her eyes, his head shaking from side to side, a smile on his own lips, hands still holding her waist. 

“We should probably face the music, right?” She whispered into the darkness, “might as well get it over and done with, embrace the awkwardness.”

“Just a little while longer? Just me and you. Once we step outside of here, we’re not a secret to them any longer. We can't sneak around after this,” Arthur responded, tightening his hold on her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, hugging her close to his body, “we’re public to those divvies after that door opens. Just wanna enjoy you, to myself, for five more minutes.”

“You two are the least subtle people I’ve ever met.”

“At least make yourselves look like you’ve not just had a quickie. I don’t want to be known as the Tiktoker who lets his mates bang in his cupboard.”

“Go away, George,” Arthur called out, a laugh muffled by the door filling the awkward silence, “fuck.”

*

-- ynyln just posted --

YNYLN; happy housewarming @georgeclarkeey !! always the best time when celebrating with these lot. heads pounding this morning. all the fucking love, guys. xx georgeclarkeey  thank you for being there. always the best time celebrating when you’re around, lovely. even if you did go for a make-out sesh in my storage closet. and spilled beer all over my possessions.

arthurnfhill I'm simply amazed they haven't clocked on that we know what's happening. -> ynyln we do now. -> arthurtv @ylyln It was fun whilst it lasted. -> ynyln @arthurtv damn. i loved our time together. -> arthurtv @ynyln At least we can kiss in public now. Want one? -> ynyln @arthurtv come over now then... doors open. -> arthurnfhill Please don't flirt in my replies.

chrismd10  i mean, you spent most of your time celebrating with a game of tonsil tennis whilst the rest of us where celebrating with a game of with beer pong… 👀

fan01  make-out session? in a storage closet? you go, girl!

arthurtv  Somehow, house parties always end with you spilling my drink. You owe me. → ynyln  you owe me a drink, too. → georgeclarkeey  you owe me a new suitcase. and new clothes. and my carpet needs cleaning. → ynyln  @georgeclarkeey i’m sorry. :((( → arthurtv  @georgeclarkeey I take full responsibility. My fault. → chrismd10  @arthurtv always your fault. for being so god damn irresistible, am i right? 😉

fan02  hold on for a damn minute.. spilling their drinks, ‘tonsil tennis’, george's possessions getting soaked in beer, a make-out session in a closet… i’m not sherlock or anything but… are we getting boyfriend!arthur content?

fan03  i’m telling you now, yn and arthur will be together by the end of the year. i’m getting the whole boyfriend-girlfriend vibe just through this interaction.

fan04 they've all just soft-launched arthur and yn being 'together' and i am HERE FOR IT.

fan05 we love a duo who promote secret shag sessions. gotta do what you gotta do.

*

if you got this far, thank you so much for reading!

please let me know what you think of this story. not the best when it comes to thinking up ideas so it would mean a whole lot to me if you left your comments and reblogged to help spread it.

it's my first fic i've written in a long, long while so i really hope it'll help get me back in the game. i really want to start being here more regularly.

ask box is always open so don't hesitate to send anything in, day or night. x

[wallabywhump]

Inspired by this gifset, and people in the tags saying "yoga teacher Tommy anyone?"

So, uh, please accept this offering of Season 1!Buck and Yoga Teacher!Tommy 😊 I haven't spell or grammar checked this, so please excuse any errors, I will do that before I put it on ao3 (maybe as a first meeting AU for BuckTommy week?) later lol.

Rating: Mature (esque), Buck is having some not safe for work thoughts about yoga teacher Tommy >.< (and Buck's own arousal 🤤)

Word count: 1.9k~

Enjoy!!

Buck slides through the half-open fire door at the yoga studio without double checking back down the alleyway he walked down. He's on the third yoga teacher from this particular studio, her name is Jewel on Tinder, and they usually fuck in her empty classroom.

She'd leave the door open; he would make his way through half empty hallways and dodge any actual pupils from her classes, and then they'd leave the door unlocked and-

So, he's not feeling like he needs to double check himself as he makes his way to her classroom. He keeps his head high, because if he bumps into Tiff or Kailey, he's not going to say no to them joining either, and saunters his way into Jewels classroom.

Buck feels wrong footed when he opens the door, and there is a man standing at the front of the class. He takes half a step back to check the room number on the door, and it's definitely 217 which is the number Jewel had texted that afternoon when he'd been sexting her from his bunk.

Buck knows he should probably turn around, leave, get out of there, because he has plans with Jewel, except he can't seem to take his eyes off the back of the head of this guy's head.

He's big, and burly, with arms that look like they could do some damage, rivalling some of the bigger men at the Firehouse. They're shiny and look near throbbing, in the way that Buck tends to see from the men at the gym who've just spent an hour working out, beads of sweat along lines of muscle. The kind of men he spends hours talking to about their routine, their protein intake, what weight they've made it up to.

Men who like and appreciate a good workout. Men whose physique Buck admires. Men who Buck looks up and down and commits to memory for inspiration when they're sweaty and their gym clothes no longer hide anything.

And, well, Buck can see from across the room that mystery male yoga teacher is covered in sweat. The guy's tank top isn't hiding anything, stuck to him, and Buck sees his shoulder muscles outlined by the dark fabric.

There is a towel slung over his shoulders that looks equally soaked, catching the beads that roll down his neck.

Buck follows the towel down the planes of the guy's back, the tank top clings to his waist and Buck wants to suck the sweat out of it.

The thought feels like a bucket of water over his head, and he blinks.

What?

Buck's mouth feels dry, and his mind is spinning, completely caught off guard by the desire to quench himself with a strangers sweat, and he's still staring at the guy's hips. He can't stop his eyes drifting lower and over those shorts that are obviously for modesty's sake but are achieving nothing because they've risen up between the guy's asscheeks and are cupping them perfectly.

Buck wants to blame having come here already half-horny and ready for a fuck for the way that his blood is rushing.

A good ass is a good ass.

And mystery male yoga teacher has a delicious looking one.

Buck takes a step back, committing mystery male yoga teacher's back profile to memory, and ready to find Jewel and not think about this.

But then the door swings closed against Buck's ass, and he stumbles forward into the room.

Mystery male yoga teacher jumps up and spins around and, God, Buck kind of wishes he hadn't.

The guy's front is just as gorgeous as the back, hair sticking to his forehead. His pecs are incredibly perky, yet another thing that Buck notices in other men when he's at the gym, and the tank top has risen up slightly to show off a hint of his abs, and the start of the 'v' down towards his groin and Buck would love to get his tongue in that and-

"Can I help you?"

Buck's head snaps up to look at mystery male yoga teacher's face and becomes aware that his mouth is open, and he's been looking at the poor guy like he was a tall glass of water and Buck parched.

Buck unsticks his tongue from his bottom teeth, and swallows. "Hi."

Mystery male yoga teach does not look impressed. He raises his eyebrow, - Buck wonders how someone can have such blue eyes, he could get lost in them - and tilts his head to the side.

"Want to try that again?" He asks.

Buck nods, a little numbly, and now he's looking at the guy's face, he can't stop. Buck kind of wants to kiss the guy's cheek bones, nibble along his jaw, lick the cleft of his chin. Buck's vision whites a little, as he tries desperately to steer his thoughts away from horniness.

"I," Buck starts to say, and his voice cracks so harshly that Buck has to stop and clear his throat. Maybe he was thirsty. "I was here to see Jewel."

"Jewel?" Mystery male yoga teacher says, eyebrows furrowed, looking so adorably confused as his face scrunches up. "Jewel...I don't..." Tommy's face goes completely blank for a second. "Ah, right, Julie. You mean Julie, kid?"

"Sure," Buck agrees, because he doesn't know Jewel as Jewel, but he's fairly certain Tiff and Kailey hadn't used their names either.

Mystery male yoga teacher rolls his eyes. "She went home with the flu just before her last class," he says, "sorry, kid."

He turns away, leaning over to start packing the bag at his feet, and Buck can't help but look at the guy's ass again. Bent over, it only makes those shorts ride up even more, and Buck imagines crawling across the yoga classroom floor and burying his face between them.

Can't be much different than with a woman, right?

Buck kind of wants to be smothered by them, wants to let the guy use his tongue, to feel strong thighs around his head. Buck swallows, and runs his tongue along the inside of his mouth.

"Anything else?" Mystery male yoga teacher asks still bent over.

Buck shakes his head, and then breathes. "No, nope, I'm just-" admiring the view? "I'll be leaving," Buck settles for.

But he doesn't get the chance to move, because mystery male yoga teacher chooses that moment to squat, and his thighs flex and Buck's vision has full on spots dancing in them now, with how easily the other mans legs bend, and how flexible he looks fully squatted, but strong and so in control, because his ass is just inches from touching the ground.

The man bounces when he reaches the bottom of his squat, just slightly, two bounces with his legs spread and his ass dropped, and, fuck, Buck hates that Jewel has flu.

He's going to need to borrow the studios showers to douse himself, for sure, because there's no way he makes it home with how hot he feels right now.

"Look, kid, need me to pass on a message to Julie?" Tommy asks, twisting around - still squatting, how flexible is he? - and looking at Buck.

Buck fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket. "Nah, I can just-" He clicks the button, only for the screen to stay black. Well, that explained why Jewel hadn't messaged him that it was off. "Damn," he mutters.

Mystery male yoga teacher raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, actually, can you just tell her that..." Buck trails off, and his face feels warm, because she's not going to know his name, but he can't just tell this adonis his tinder name, and he doesn't tend to tell people outside his job that his nickname is Buck. "Tell her Evan stopped by."

Mystery male yoga teacher bounces on the balls of his feet and stands up, his bag slung over one shoulder, and shakes his head. There's something to his expression, mild disappointment, but also understanding. "Julie's not going to know you as Evan, is she?"

Buck wishes the floor would swallow him up, because this man has him pegged. Or maybe he just knows his coworker really well. Could be either. Buck refuses to be embarrassed by it though, and he shuffles on the spot, puffing out his chest a little, and swallows to steel himself.

"It's, uh, Firehose."

Buck braces himself for ridicule, maybe a laugh, but mystery male yoga teacher doesn't laugh. He smirks instead, and his eyes drift down to Buck's body, lingering on Buck's chest for a few seconds before landing on half-hard cock.

Mystery male yoga teacher's eyes go half lidded, his tongue runs along his lips, and he swallows before tilting his head to the side. Buck wants to preen because he just got checked out. He just got checked out by a hot guy, and based on the reaction, the hot guy liked what he saw.

"Is it now?" Mystery male yoga teacher's voice is just as dry as his expression had been earlier, and something about that flat tone, the obvious flirt in it, does something for Buck.

"People like to tell me it is, at least," Buck flirts back with a wink.

Mystery male yoga teacher's grip on his bag makes his knuckles white, and the man nods. "I guess if it's peer reviewed," he says, finally looking away from Buck's groin to his face, and raising an eyebrow.

"By many people," Buck says, and then flounders a little because he knows he wants to flirt, but he hasn't flirted with a guy before, is he doing it right? "Very good at putting out fires, the pressure has five stars, definitely who you want to call for your emergencies."

The guy barks out a laugh, and maybe Buck missed the mark with that one, but the way mystery male yoga teacher's face scrunches up as he smiles is something Buck wants to treasure.

"Okay, well, down boy," he says. The words send a sharp bolt of electricity down Buck's spine, his skin feels like it's on fire, and he inhales sharply. "I'll let Julie know Firehose was here for her, okay?"

Mystery male yoga teacher is moving closer, clearly ready to leave, and Buck knows he'll probably never see him again if he lets him leave.

"Or, or, you could not," Buck says, quickly, it rushes out of him. "I mean, I-"

All Buck's smoothness is gone, and mystery male yoga teacher is barely two feet away, and now Buck can smell him. He sways on the spot, wants to chase that smell, press his nose into it and smell it forever. Most men at the gym don't get this close, but Buck thinks the gym might be ruined forever if he ever reacts like this again.

"Jewel didn't even give me her name," Buck says, and steps closer to him, "can't have been that serious, you know?"

"You didn't give her yours either," the man points out, unimpressed.

Buck nods, shaking his head in a 'good point' motion. "Okay, but I gave it to you."

Mystery male yoga teacher laughs again. "When I asked you." The lilt to his voice is like a sirens call, and Buck wants to make him laugh again.

"I don't give it to just anyone." Buck tries his best to look up through half-lidded eyes, bites his lip in a way one of his older flings used to like, and softens his eyebrows to appear just a little bit younger.

It works like a charm.

"Jesus Christ," Mystery male yoga teacher whispers, "you're something else, Firehose."

"Evan," Buck corrects, and smirks, because hook, line, sinker, he's bagged himself another yoga teacher.

"Well, Evan-"

Holy fuck, Buck is fairly certain he could come from this man's voice alone, his name in this man's mouth is a weapon.

"-I'm Tommy."

[urf1lterr]

moonlight | m.yg [1]

next chapter: soon

summary: when it’s finally the week of your big sister's wedding, you’re more than excited for it to be over as responsibilities come flying your way. however, you can’t seem to stop thinking about a particular groomsman with blonde hair.

pairing: groomsman!yoongi x bridesmaid!y/n

genre: wedding!au, strangers to lovers au | awkward, fluff, angst, mature

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author’s note: reposting this bc i miss him. i’ve been wanting to do this for sooooo long but never had time- still don’t but oops.

Sleep is what you really needed right now, especially when you already lacked it in your daily life. But no, that wasn’t really an option right now, not when you had to wait for your sister to pick you up from the airport and get dinner afterwards. 

Realistically, you could’ve slept on the plane ride here, but you hated the seat you were in. At first, you sat in the aisle seat because it was always the fastest way to exit afterwards, but you had to give that up when a man probably in his late 50s basically ordered you to move to the middle because older people need "more" room. 

You weren’t happy, but you weren’t about to argue because of this.

All you wanted to do right now was go to your old bedroom and change into some comfy sweats and an oversized t-shirt before pulling your blankets over your head to sleep in peace. You knew it was not going to happen any time soon, but a girl can wish. 

As you finally saw your suitcases at the baggage claim area, you grabbed one, almost falling by how large and heavy it was. You cursed at yourself for overpacking, but you were staying in town for two weeks and could not risk the chance of not having enough clothes. Luckily, your other suitcase was fairly smaller.

Walking to the other side of the terminal, you saw the exit to the pick up area, immediately moving your legs faster because you couldn’t wait to get out of here. There were too many people walking slow, it surprised you how calm you’ve lasted.

Once you reached a bench in front of the area, you noticed that the weather was not that great. It was raining, which you loved- but your sister planned most of her events outside so this is probably going to make her cry for hours.

And you really don't wanna be the shoulder she cries on- she is very dramatic when she sobs.

Pulling out your phone, you noticed you received three texts. One from your sister, mom, and boss. 

[mom] 5:57pm: were you able to land safely? don’t look tired and try not to be introverted, namjoon’s mother is joining us for dinner. put on some makeup, love you!

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. You weren’t surprised in the slightest, you knew how your mother was. She didn’t mean any harm, but she loves to impress others. By looking a bit tidy, she thinks people wouldn’t think lowly of us. However, she fails to understand that we’ve known your future brother-in-law’s family for almost six years now, you don’t believe they will call off the wedding by seeing their future daughter-in-law’s little sister bare faced. 

Plus, his mother is the sweetest. If anything, she always told you how much she loved seeing natural faces compared to the overdose of products people nowadays use in which she refers to “tiktok trends.” 

[jae] 6:01pm: the office is going to miss you! tell ur sister congrats again, and then do it again for me once she’s actually married lol. don’t you dare ask if there’s work for you to do it in the next two weeks! 

Laughing to yourself, you quickly replied with a small “thank you, i will tell her,” along with a “darn, now i cant use work as an excuse to get out of wedding duties. but if there is work needed to be done just text me.”

[violet] 6:13pm: almost there!! look out for a black suv. hope u don’t need to go home, kinda planning to go straight to dinner bc our reservation is at 7 and joonie doesn’t want to be late! he’s scared they’ll judge us, see you soon &lt;3

Of course he would think that, coming from the man who thinks texting and walking is rude- it's debatable!

That’s when you looked at the time, noticing that it was exactly 6:20pm. There was still time to make it by 7, you were sure of it.

As you were about to reply to your mom and sister, you heard the sound of tires screeching with constant honks. You looked up, noticing a very expensive-looking suv pulled near the curb, still beeping.

Was this your sister? I mean, it was black like she stated it would be.

Your question was finally answered when you noticed the passenger window being rolled down, revealing two young looking men with bright smiles eagerly waving, the driver still beeping with his other hand causing many people around to glare as they walked by.

You noticed the man with very shaggy hair, wearing what seems to be a white t-shirt, black slacks, and sneakers as he opened the door. “What’s up, y/n,” he smiled, making his way towards you.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here? I thought Violet was going to pick me up- is she in the backseat?” You questioned as he automatically went to grab your bags. “And what is this moron doing here? I thought he got his license taken away last month?”

Looking back to the SUV, you saw your cousin in the driver’s seat with what seems to be him fighting off a man with a bright yellow and green vest knocking violently on his window side. 

“You cannot park here, you’re holding up traffic!” the man yelled, causing your cousin to roll his eyes before rolling down the window maybe two inches before yelling back.

“You’re the one holding up traffic standing in the middle of the road!”

“Don’t make me call security! Park in the parking lot!” The man dragged on, hitting the side of the car repeatedly and motioning his arms to drive away at the same time. 

"Aren't you security?!" Your cousin honked before glaring at the man. “And you scratch my car, you pay for it!”

You stopped watching their little altercation as Taehyung began rolling your suitcases towards the trunk of the car, making you follow along. “She wasn’t able to come, apparently she had to go pick up some materials she ordered for the centerpieces,” he stated, setting the bags inside before closing the trunk. “And I am not sure why he is driving, I think everybody forgot he shouldn’t be and I am too lazy to do it, I was not able to take my nap today because Namjoon made me paint the photo booth all morning- it was exhausting.” 

Opening the passenger door for you, you quickly jumped in as he shut it before jumping into the seat behind you. Turning to your left, you could still see your cousin arguing with the man before Taehyung told him to drive already.

“No! I hope you have a shitty day, you asshole!” Your cousin screamed before speeding away down the street. After literally two seconds, he looked your way while smiling brightly. “I missed you!”

Giving him a dirty glance, you slap his arm. “Ow! What was that for?” He whined, rubbing his arm with his free hand.

“Jungkook, why the fuck are you driving?” you declared. “You’re not allowed”

“Says who,” he rolled his eyes.

“The state,” Taehyung says from the backseat.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “They can’t do anything, I pay my taxes.”

Groaning, you rub your forehead. “This has nothing to do with your taxes, you imbecile.”

He gives you a confused look for a quick moment before moving his eyes back on the road again. “You don’t need to use big words to attack me, y/n. This isn’t law school.”

You heard Taehyung sighing at how annoying his friend was being. To clear things up, Taehyung was actually a close friend of your side of the family through Jungkook, the two of them being inseparable since kindergarten. 

You just so happened to know him well since he always followed Jungkook everywhere he went, same vice versa, as you saw your cousin basically everyday due to only being one year apart and both your mom’s being sisters. But with Taehyung, you happened to be the same age, same with their other friend in their trilogy, Jimin. In which you were surprised he wasn’t here because Jimin loved going to dinner with them. 

“Why are you driving?”

“I got my license back,” he smiled, nodding heavily when he saw the questionable facial expression you were making. “I swear! I went to the DMV and everything. I got it back after paying like $3,000.”

Choking on your saliva after hearing how much he had to pay, you gasped, “Why so much? What exactly did you do?!”

Jungkook awkwardly moved both his hands on the steering wheel, obviously not wanting to answer your question as you heard his friend chuckling in the backseat. “Yeah, tell her Jungkook, what did you do?”

Throwing a small box of tissues he had left near the middle cup holder to Taehyung, Jungkook began his excuse. “I’m not really sure, apparently it’s illegal to drive through rain puddles,” he shrugged.

You shifted your head a bit, “that’s not illegal.”

“It is when you purposely speed through them to get people wet,” Taehyung giggled as Jungkook groaned in annoyance.

“Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell her that part!” Jungkook whined.

“That is so rude,” you pinched his arm as he tried moving away from you, knowing your first reaction to things were mostly violence. “How would you like it if someone did that to you?”

“I actually wouldn’t mind it,” he stated. “Saves me money from going to a waterpark.”

Sometimes, you wondered what goes on in that big head of your cousin. Not much common sense, that’s for sure.

“Anywho,” you spoke up, trying to change the dumb conversation you just had. “What’s the plan for tonight? I heard something about a dinner, but other than that I have idea what’s going on. No one told me anything.”

Jungkook shrugged, glancing at you a few times as he answered your question. “I know we have dinner with some of Namjoon’s friends, his mom, your parents, and then you sister’s friends. But afterwards, no clue.”

“Why are you and Taehyung going then?” 

He scoffed, looking offended. “I’ll have you know, we are very much indeed Namjoon’s friends,” he proudly said before giving in once he saw how that did nothing. Maybe acquaintances but definitely not friends. “All the groomsmen were invited.”

Ah yes, you almost forgot Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin were appointed groomsmen which was a big shock considering they were not close to Namjoon like that. 

But to be completely honest, your sister did have six bridesmaids while Namjoon only had three real groomsmen he wanted. So, she was able to convince Namjoon to allow the other three to take apart on their special day because they were basically like family.

And because he had no one else to call.

Although, it didn’t take much convincing, Namjoon did love the guys and they all bonded really well whenever they did interact.

“So, Jimin’s going?”

“He should be,” you heard Taehyung answer. “He couldn’t come with us to pick you up because he had to drop his little brother off at baseball practice- but I think their mom is going to pick him up once he’s done.”

You nodded, understanding the situation. To be honest, you were happy the three of them were going. It’s not like you wouldn’t know anyone tonight, maybe only a couple people, but the rest of your family never knew how to make you feel comfortable the same way the boys did.

Maybe its because you basically grew up with them and how you were all close in age, but you felt more open and less forced to act a certain way when they were by your side. 

Throughout the car ride, you had to constantly bicker with Jungkook about slowing down and to avoid potholes as it kept getting in the way of you applying concealer and powder from your seat. You especially yelled when he almost made you smash your mascara wand in your eye, causing Taehyung to hide his laughter as he scrolled through twitter. 

Finally, after small loads of traffic and listening to Jungkook’s ‘go crazy, go stupid’ playlist in which consisted of old Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana songs, you made it to the restaurant. The problem was, the rain was hectic. You’re surprised Jungkook didn’t crash into a pole trying to see through his windshield wipers.

Once you parked, Jungkook sheepishly smiled. “Okay so we have a small problem- nothing serious,” he stated as you gave him a look for him to continue. “We don’t have an umbrella.”

“What-” you and Taehyung said at the same time. “I can’t show up in there all wet, it’s pouring outside!”

“-and I can’t risk getting my shirt wet, I didn’t bring a sweatshirt and I am wearing a white top- my chest will be see through if it gets wet!” Taehyung cried out. “I don’t want people violating me.”

“Calm down, drama queens,” Your cousin rolled his eyes. “Y/n, cover your face with your arms to protect your makeup- that’s the only thing you should save. Taehyung, wrap your arms over your chest, don’t you dare lift them until we are sheltered. We got this guys!”

You scoffed as he cheered you both on. At least you all will be drenched together, you thought. 

Getting ready to jump out of the car, you looked down at your outfit. You were wearing an oversized dark brown crewneck sweater, black thick leggings, and your white platform sneakers. At least you were kind of warm and didn’t have much to damage from the rain. 

Looking back at how far the restaurant was from your parking spot, you three basically had to run the side of the building to get to the front. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was regularly raining- but as it was lashing down with some now background sounds of thunder and lightening, you knew this was going to be a bad idea. 

Jungkook gave you two a confident nod before aiming towards his door as Taehyung and you gave each other a worried look, eventually doing the same. “On the count of 3!” Jungkook yelled from his side. 

Once we were all ready, hands on the door handle, you heard Taehyung start, “1-”

“-3!” Jungkook screamed and ran out the door, hearing the door lock as he ran his distance. 

Taehyung and you looked at each other in shock before chasing after him. As you took more and more steps, you could tell that this rainstorm was probably one of the worst you have ever encountered.

But to be fair, you should have checked the forecast and remembered to bring your own umbrella. 

After what seemed like minutes, the three of you finally made it to the front of the building in which you were blessed with a roof for your protection. At this moment, you have never been happier. 

Moving your eyes to the two boys standing near you, you noticed how even though Tae’s hair was swamped, he managed to barely get his chest wet. Jungkook’s hair began curling up on the sides, but only that and his shoulders were fairly drenched. 

You tried straightening out your sweater while looking up at Taehyung. “Do I look alright?”

“Yeah, you totally don’t look like you just ran through the rain.” he nodded, even though you could feel your hair soaked. 

“Your makeup still looks intact,” Jungkook added, “but your hair- eh.”

You glared at him as he lifted his hands up in defense. He shouldn’t be talking, his hair was soaked too.

Trying to make yourselves look presentable, you didn’t notice someone rushing near you three, only when you felt a pair of arms wrapping behind you, causing you to squeal.

Moving your head to see the owner of the arms, you immediately hugged them back. “Jimin!”

“Y/n!” he giggled, but suddenly pulled away. “Ew, you’re drenched.” Nodding towards Jungkook, he quickly understood what happened. “Why didn’t you just tell me you guys were here? Jungkook, I texted you that I had an umbrella if you needed one.”

Taehyung and you turned to glare at Jungkook as he turned red and stammered, "I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see the message!”

"Hold on, man. Didn't you just dropped off your brother? It's pouring," Taehyung.

Jimin shrugged, "Do you think the MLB teams stop their games over some rain."

"In some cases, yes."

“Y/n! You’re here!” you heard that familiar voice squeal behind you, followed by a pair of arms once again hugging you. “I would totally not touch you, but I haven’t seen you in three months!”

Smiling, you held your annoying sister until you heard a cough. You let go to see your parents standing near her, your mom pushing her to the side, making your sister almost fall to the ground, before wrapping her arms around you. “Y/n! How was your flight? You never replied to my text, young lady,” she crossed her arms. Oh, how you love when your mother’s mood changes constantly.

She suddenly touched your face lightly, “Your face looks lovely! You’re hair though- uh its alright! The rain is our excuse!” she beamed.

Same old mother, but at least you knew she did not want you to take things seriously. 

You felt your dad lightly wrap an arm around you, giving you a short greeting, probably not wanting to hold up our reservation as well but not because he didn’t want to be rude, he wanted to eat already. 

Noticing no one else was outside, you sister began speaking. “Namjoon, his friends, and mom are inside sitting at the table already. I told them not to wait up on us so we don’t cause much of a disturbance inside.”

Nodding, she then began guiding everyone inside with your parents following directly behind her while Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook walked right along with you. It was a short walk inside, but you noticed that the table must have been all the way in the back, maybe in another room by how far in you all were going.

Being right, you could see that they reserved a private room which was extremely crazy- this must’ve been so expensive for a casual dinner! 

The first person you noticed was your future brother-in-law sitting at the middle of the wide circular table, a seat empty right beside him for your sister you assumed. You identified his mother pretty clearly as she sat on the other side of him.

Your parents quickly sat on the seats right next to where your sister just sat. You moved your eyes to see most of the bridesmaids, who you knew for the longest as they all either went to school or worked with her, sitting right near you parents and across from them. 

There was only one seat next to the last bridesmaid that was opened, so you assumed it was for you as it was across from your sister’s seat. Looking at the boys, you frowned, realizing you would be separated as they only had empty seats on the other side of the table where Namjoon’s mom sat. At least you could look at them from across the table.

Jimin fake pouted before they all walked to the available seats. You finally noticed the three other boys sitting beside them, only recognizing one of them, Hoseok. You were happy to be seated right next to him as you two have met many times in the past, but you couldn’t help but wonder who the other two were and why you weren’t introduced to them earlier. 

Hoseok was actually a close friend of both Namjoon and your sister, in fact, he was the one who introduced them many years ago. He was probably one of the few close male friends your sister even had who she trusted with all her heart who didn’t want to sleep with her.

You also befriended him as he was the only one who wouldn’t complain but encouraged you to hang out with them during their high school days when your sister pulled the ‘hormonal teenager who hates everybody’ phase.

“Nice to see you, y/n. Thanks for coming, I know you must be exhausted from your flight, but it means a lot that you were able to make it,” Namjoon kindly greeted you, in which you smiled in return.

“It’s okay,” you shyly reply, feeling your nerves kick in because you suck at public speaking, even when it’s with people you’ve already met. 

“Now she’s shy,” you heard your cousin stifle in a low laugh before Jimin kicked his leg, in which he groaned in pain, trying not to make any noise as he clutched his knee. 

As you gave Jungkook a dirty look, you began turning, quickly taking a look at the guests you didn’t know. One seemed to look slightly tall, or you assumed he was by how long his torso was. He was very good looking, just not your type.

But the other one was already looking at you, his eyes quickly moving away when he realized he was caught, not seeming to care though. He had very beautiful eyes and bright blonde hair, but he looked very intimidating with his blank- almost cold expression. 

“You look dashing, y/n!” You heard Namjoon’s mom exclaim, making you turn extremely red. God, you hated when people gave you compliments, especially when others were around. You did not like the attention it brought.

“Thank you” you looked down, trying your best to make your face cool down. You wish you were in the rain right now.

“I take full responsibility for her hair not looking the best,” Jungkook spoke up, making you immediately cover your face with your hands, praying he stop talking. “I forgot the umbrella.”

You heard him groan again, maybe from one of the boys kicking him for his irrelevant comments.

“I know the struggle,” You heard one of the unknown guests Namjoon had, the one who looked tall, begin. “I tripped while trying to walk in and landed on a puddle.” This caused you to giggle, happy that he was willing to embarrass himself to deflect the attention off you. “But it’s alright, luckily I had extra pants in my car.”

“Now that you mentioned that uh- fascinating information,” Namjoon awkwardly started. “Y/n, I realized you never met my other groomsmen-”

“Groomsmen? How dare you” You heard the same friend fake gasp, causing Hoseok to groan right beside you. “I am the one and only best man” 

“So, that’s Jin,” Hoseok finally spoke up, rolling his eyes at his friend who you realized probably loved the attention more than you actually knew.

“Oh, hi” you shyly waved as he gave you a cheesy smile. 

“Sorry about him, he’s a little over the top,” Namjoon sweetly mentioned to you, causing Jin to scoff. “-but in a good way!”

Just by observing their attitude towards each other, you can tell Jin was the friend who made Namjoon be more confident and open-minded enough to try new things. He seemed like the hype man of the group.

“And that’s Yoongi,” Hoseok added, pointing to the man on the left of him, the one who looked like he did not want to talk to anybody. You began to realize this Yoongi guy was more reserved than the rest, giving you a small nod as you awkwardly looked away.

“Sorry about him, he seems quiet- but he does talk! Quite a lot actually,” Jin added, causing Yoongi to nudge him. 

“Same with this one,” Violet giggled, looking your way causing you to glare at her. Way to put the spotlight on you. 

Luckily for you, your mother just knew so many topics to talk about that she carried a conversation fairly quickly right after your sister’s comment. 

You would have listened to it all the way, but to be honest, you were mentally exhausted. Work had you up till 10pm last night and with it being such a jammed pack month already, you completely forgot to pack until this morning. Having to check in two bags, you had to arrive at the airport three hours early to make it in time to depart from all the long lines. 

You don’t think anyone beside your dad and Namjoon’s mom were listening to your mom because as you looked around the table, you realized people were either making faces at their friends or just looking anywhere else but the speaker. 

That’s when you noticed Taehyung making a silly face your way, causing you to smile at him. But when you did so, you saw from the corner of your eye the restrained individual placing his eyes on you that didn’t leave until he was about to be caught again.

Yeah, you wished this dinner would be over soon.

-

"That was probably one of the best steaks I have ever digested," Namjoon smiled while wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Did he just say 'digested'?" you heard one of your sister's friend, Mina you believe, whisper to her other friend, Hani, who just shrugged.

After about an hour of awkward conversations that consisted of when Violet and Namjoon would be making babies and who would take custody if they both randomly die, dinner was finally over.

To be honest, you were glad that you were mostly not chosen to speak. That was until your mother thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring up your personality compared to your sisters, in which she made sure to mention the one time in 4th grade when you threw a tantrum and bursted into tears because you didn't want her to leave you alone on the first day of school.

Violet made sure to clarify how immature you were as a fourth grader, in which you thought if it would really be bad punching her in the face right then and there. You were sure makeup could cover the bruises.

"I should probably get going, I think your father is getting off soon from work," you heard Namjoon's mom say, slowly standing up before giving her son a warm hug.

Following the signs, everyone began standing up, getting ready to say their goodbyes. That was until your sister suddenly spoke up, becoming an announcer.

"Wait I forgot to mention, tomorrow is day 1 out of 7!" she cheered as her fiancee placed an arm on her lower back. "Don't forget to bring your shoes!"

"What's tomorrow?" You thought, but apparently out loud as everyone glanced your way, causing you to look back at Violet.

"You don't know?!" she gasped, looking back towards your mom. "Did you not tell her?" Watching as your mother softly gave her a small smile, your sister's eyes made their way back to you in disbelief. "It's our first dance rehearsal."

"Dance rehearsal?" You squinted your eyes, not believing how in the world she planned to make people learn a dance in under a week. "You do understand your wedding is in 6 days right after tomorrow, right?"

"We couldn't plan practices earlier because you and Jin don't live near here and we didn't want you both going out of your way to get here for it," Namjoon commented. "That would've been too expensive."

Realization hit you, you have to dance...in front of people.

Looking up, you tried showing a relaxed expression, but you're sure you only pulled out an uncomfortable one at the thought of having to publicly dance when you are in fact the worse dancer ever.

Truth be told, you wish you can easily agree and go with the flow, but knowing yourself the best you know you cannot pull this off. There is a reason why you dropped dance class in high school and it was because you kept making your partner's toes bleed from stepping on them so much.

But before you could speak up, or as if you were going to, your sister beat you to it. "You're doing it, no exceptions," she pointed a finger at you.

"You can be my partner!" Jimin exclaimed, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, trying to cheer you up. "I'm a great dancer."

"I beg to differ," Taehyung crossed his arms. "Have you seen these hips? Been shaking them since I was eight years-old."

"Just Dance doesn't count," Jimin hissed, making Tae scoff.

"It does when you're undefeated!"

Before the two of them could continue their bickering, your sister intervened. "None of you are dancing with her, I've already assigned partners," and right when they were going to ask who she added, "and you're not finding out until tomorrow. I don't want you trying to ask us to privately change your partners tonight so deal with it."

That definitely made them shut up before she carried on saying farewell to everybody.

You being you, you stood there stiff as everyone hugged each other. Never knowing how to really say 'bye', you often just waved. It was your thing.

You felt large arms wrap around you, causing you to gasp for air from the tight hold. "It was so nice meeting you, y/n!" You heard Jin burst out before pulling away. "Hoping we end up as partners, you seem so chill."

Certain that that was not going to happen, you sheepishly nodded. Not that you did not want him as a partner, to be fair, you probably would have chosen him as one of your top choices if it were up to you only because he seemed friendly and welcoming.

However, he was the best man.

Everybody knows the best man always gets paired with the maid of the honor, in which you believe was Naile.

Once he moved passed you to say his goodbyes with your parents, you noticed Yoongi finishing his farewells with Namjoon's mom before turning in your direction.

Shifting your eyes somewhere else in the room, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach.

For some reason, interacting with someone else who is also quiet but now intimidating made you extra nervous, fearful they might randomly lash out on you.

Just before Yoongi could at least give you a small nod, like he had done earlier, Namjoon announced that we should all be on our ways as the restaurant probably wanted us gone by now.

Running up to Jimin, you followed your friends and cousin out the door. Not noticing the pair of eyes following your every move up until you were out of sight.

Finally, now you can go home and sleep.

-

Waking up this morning was hard for you, especially when you knew how stressful it was going to be.

Maybe it was because you knew what was to come but didn't at the same time. It was safe to say you were panicking the whole drive to the small park your sister booked for the morning.

However, your sister was nothing close to nervous, in fact, she was beaming in joy throughout the car ride, constantly telling you she was excited to be a day closer to her wedding.

"Don't freak out too much about practice, okay?" Violet began as she parked the car. "None of them have experience dancing, except Hobi and maybe like Jimin and whatever Tae thinks is dancing, but other than that we all suck."

"Thanks for the pep talk, I feel so much better," you sarcastically declare before opening the door and getting out.

"I'm serious! I know you well enough to see how anxious you are about this," she argued. "But I made sure to pick an easy dance we all can learn within a few days"

You only sighed. There was nothing you could really do at this point so there was not much convincing she was doing to make you feel better. Plus, it's her day. You kind of have to do whatever she wants whether you like it or not.

Following her to a medium-sized building, you noticed how nice this park really was. There was a huge duck pond on one side with a beautiful garden all around.

Where does she find these places?

As you two opened the doors, she led you down a hallway until you were walking into a pretty large banquet room. You saw mostly everyone was here, besides Jin and Namjoon, but other than that everyone was here.

"Where's my man?" Your sister questioned, setting her bag on one of the side tables as you closely followed behind her.

"Trying to figure out where he put his dancing shoes," Hoseok stated, lying back on the chair he was sitting in. "Hi, y/n."

You softly waved, seeing that Taehyung and Yoongi were sitting right next to him. Tae was too busy playing some game on his phone to notice your presence as Yoongi just gave you a brief glimpse before going on his phone as well.

"What took you forever to get here?" Jungkook asked, pulling up a seat right next to you on one of the empty tables you sat in. You felt Jimin sit next to him, waiting for your answer.

"Violet couldn't leave the house without shaving her face," you whispered, hoping she didn't hear that or else she would come up with something 10x worse to joke about you.

"I did notice something was different about her," Jimin joked, making you all laugh.

After talking for some time as your sister kept trying to call her fiancee, you heard the slam of a door with the sounds of footsteps nearing.

It appeared that Namjoon probably found his shoes with the help of Jin as they both ran in together, breathing a little heavy as your sister put her hand on her hip.

"Ready," he smiled, trying not to provoke your sister anymore.

Knowing your sister, she was probably going to hire some dance teacher to teach you guys proper techniques. What you did not know was that this instructor was going to make you freestyle your own ending steps with your partners.

Or at least that's what the instructor mentioned after they showed up fifteen minutes late due to "traffic."

But now that they have said it, no one knew who their partners were.

"Time for the moment everyone's been waiting for," your sister stomped her feet and motioned everyone to come near her. Once we did so, she asked, "who wants to know first?"

Jungkook raised his hand quickly. "Me!"

"I think we should make this a little fun," Violet smirked. "Let's write the pair's names on paper, randomly mix them in a bowl and then draw."

Namjoon nodded, not really caring too much about how this was going to be done. He just wanted to begin lessons, already knowing that he wasn't quite the best when it came to body movements only for the world to see.

You were despising every second of this. As the clock kept on ticking, you kept thinking about who your partner would be.

It's not like anyone here was truly horrible- or so you thought.

Plus, you had a high chance of getting the three boys you loved to death. However, your sister did say Jimin and Taehyung were out of the picture, so your only hope was your cousin.

But in your opinion, you weren't familiar with Namjoon's friends. Jin seemed like a sweetheart, but maybe the close proximity of dancing with someone who was practically a stranger was getting in your head.

The main person you were worried about was Yoongi.

It's not like you completely disliked him, you never dislike anyone unless you had a reason to. It was that you didn't know him.

You didn't know Jin either, but the difference was Jin made an effort to communicate to others. Yoongi just sits there with a blank expression, making you question if he is judging or ignoring you.

It's quite intimidating, really.

And with you being extremely quiet too, well... two quiet people don't really work well- or in a situation where both have to actively dance.

"Jimin and Leia!" you heard Namjoon announce.

Damn.

"Sorry, y/n," Jimin mouthed, making you swat your hand in reassurance that you were fine. I guess he's known you for so long to understand how frightening this was for you.

But you're a big girl, you'll get through this.

"Taehyung and Yuna!" Your sister roared.

Okay, maybe not.

Finally, after Hoseok and Jin were called, your nerves were getting to you. Now was not the time to overthink, whatever happens- happens.

Jungkook wasn't making this easier as he kept waving his arms around, mouthing the words "we're definitely partners." And for a split second, you began to believe him.

Well, that was until-

"Y/n and Yoongi," Namjoon called out, making your face fall. Violet began clapping her hands while her fiancee proudly smiled.

Feeling your face turn red, you continue staring at Namjoon as he slowly tilted his head to the side for you to go to your new partner, in which you responded with continuing on your stare.

It felt like hours before you felt someone's presence beside you, causing Namjoon to fix his attention back to announcing who's Jungkook's partner was going to be.

Moving your head slightly to the right, you could make out the bright blonde hair immediately. Yoongi was sitting next to you, oh my-

"I guess we're uh- partners?" he lightly squinted his eyes before looking directly at your own.

You felt weak at the knees by this eye contact, how are you going to make it through the week?

"R-right," you began, mentally screaming at yourself for stuttering "I mean right! Yeah, how uhm..cool?"

"Not really," he sighed, making your eyes widen. Was he really not that happy by this decision? "I don't dance much"

Relief hit you by his answer, okay maybe he doesn't hate you. "Don't worry, I'm on the same boat."

"Namjoon knows I don't do any of this," Yoongi cringed to himself. Does he mean dancing? "I'm sure your sister knows you aren't great either, they should have just partnered us up with someone who wasn't going to make us look humiliating."

Ouch, that stung.

You shut your mouth, not sure what to reply. You understood his point, but at the same time you didn't. It was beginning to become clear now that maybe he wasn't happy with this setup.

"Are we ready to begin?" you heard the instructor exclaim, causing you to look past Yoongi in which you were grateful this small conversation would have to be cut. "Please come forward and spread out, only your partners should be near you!"

Rubbing your fingers, you slowly followed after Yoongi who took the lead towards the middle of the spaced out "dance floor," or the only area in this room that did not have folding tables. The two of you ended up on the side while the others placed themselves throughout the middle and front of the teacher.

After listening to him ramble on about the needed chemistry between partners and showing how our hands must be placed on his practice dummy, who was Namjoon- which Violet did not like, it was time for everyone else to follow.

"Remember, the men are the leads! Take your lady's hand with your left and place your right on her hip! I want to feel the sexual tension from here!"

"Or a comfortable tension," Namjoon interfered.

Looking up at Yoongi, you saw him dully take his left hand out to grab your right one. By his lack of emotion, it triggered you to malfunction and embarrass the hell out of yourself.

He could feel how stiff your body was once he grabbed your hand, beginning to place his right hand behind on your mid back.

"Closer!" the instructor popped out of nowhere, causing you to flinch and almost trip over Yoongi's shoes. Yes, you just stepped on his shoes- he probably hates you now. "Hand on hip! You'll get the rhythm faster."

"No thanks, I'd rather not," Yoongi plainly stated, but was pushed inches away from your face when the instructor pushed you both forward.

You tried your best to look anywhere then at him, but it was incredibly hard. You did catch him throwing out a few glances a few times, but he would always divert his attention somewhere else when he noticed how uncomfortable you reacted to it.

"Do y-you think we should do what they are doing?" You asked, referring to steps that were just given to follow. Everybody else were figuring out the new footwork, but your partner just stood there as if he wanted to die already.

He simply just ignored you, only looking at what Jungkook and his partner were doing. In which, your cousin was swinging the poor girl around while she tried to slow him down in fear.

God, you wish this was over already.

-

"So...how did you like it?!" Violet questioned, sitting down on the bed in your old bedroom while you hid under the blankets. "It was fun, huh?"

"You call that fun?" You groaned, sitting up. "I want a new partner."

"What? No way! Yoongi will be hurt you wanted to switch."

"How if he was the one who questioned why we weren't switched in the first place?"

Violet gasped, "He said that?"

Nodding, you wiped some hair away from your face. "He also refused to put his hand on my hip. Is my body too gross for him or what?"

It did hurt your feelings he wouldn't listen to the basic suggestions, but if he didn't want to then there was nothing you could do.

"Maybe it was a respect thing- like to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries?"

Thinking about it for a second, she could be right.

"We just don't mix well, he would just ignore me any time I asked questions or spoke up," You sighed. "Please change my partner-"

"-I can't, we already began rehearsals," She cut you off.

"But we only learned basic steps! I can dance with a whole other human being and get it down with them! Please, please-"

"-no-"

"I can tell he despises every minute of this," You whine. "He's not into it and I'm just holding him back! You already know how scary this is to throw myself out there for this dance, at least let me be with someone who seems comfortable with me. It'll make me less anxious."

Your sister gave you a look, taking her time to think hard about this. She wanted you to feel fully comfortable, but it would be so unfair to switch partners the next day after announcing them.

"You know I want you to feel at your best, but the decision has been made and I-"

"If you let me switch I'll clean your room for a year," You rambled.

She rolled her eyes, "nice try, you don't even live nearby!"

"I'll send you money to buy your favorite meals twice a month!"

Violet gave you a stern look. "Y/n, no means no. I-"

"I'll say a speech at your wedding!"

That made her shut up.

This shocked you too because you avoided this topic from the start when she told you she was engaged. You hated talking, better yet- talking in front of people? No way, impossible to do!

"You would never, you can't even order your food without stuttering."

She didn't have to come at you like that..

"I promise!" you begged, jumping in front of her as she rolled her eyes.

Hearing her sigh, you felt weight being lifted off your shoulder. "Fine! You can have Hoseok, he's a quick learner anyway."

Almost making your sister fall off the bed as you tackled her in a hug, you cheered. "Thank you! Thank you! Tha-"

"Shut up already," she scrunched her face, pushing you off harshly. "I'm only doing this because you seem to feel really uncomfortable being near him and my sister instincts are going off."

You nodded quickly, trying to be on your best behavior so she doesn't change her mind.

"It kind of sucks though," she shrugged. "Namjoon and I thought you would be the perfect fit, you two are so alike"

"Being antisocial doesn't automatically mean we'll hit it off."

"Sorry, wouldn't know what that's like," she smiled and stood up from your bed. "I'm gonna go check on mom and the centerpieces, you should text Hobi a heads up for this week."

Once she left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him. You hope you weren't being a total bitch for doing this, but you doubt Yoongi would get offended.

He was the one who suggested it.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue

part 1 | part 2

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, citation of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating

Carlos Sainz Jr was a true gentleman, a loyal and kind companion, a loving lover. A captivating man who won me over at first glance, with his chocolate-colored eyes and million-dollar smile. I didn't know who Carlos really was until I became deeply involved with him, until I realized I loved him so much that it wouldn't make any difference if he were a prince, a fisherman, or a mobster.

I met Carlos at the art gallery where I worked in Madrid; he was charming, affectionate, and too perfect to be true. He made efforts to create perfect dates and show all the affection he had for me; loving Carlos was as easy as breathing.

He was always very open about his feelings, his plans for the future, but he avoided revealing what his job was as much as possible. I tried to guess, after all, there aren't many job options in the market that could justify a huge mansion and the need for many security guards around him, but I never succeeded.

It took him a year to open up about his illicit activities to me, perhaps pressured by fate with subtle gestures. Before I could find out on my own, Carlos came clean.

I loved him deeply, but a woman has her limits and there are things I can't tolerate. I loved him infinitely, but thinking about all the things he did or was involved in made me sick. I had to overlook many things to be with him because, after all, I loved him, and that was what mattered, right?

"A monster is not a monster when you love it." This phrase was never more true. Carlos was never a monster to me, even after he told me all the terrible things he had done. I would still love him anyway.

Carlos loved me for five years, loved me while we timidly got to know each other, loved me when I tried to leave his life, loved me with all my mess when I moved into his house, loved me on our wedding day as we shared tears, loved me through three wedding anniversaries. But he didn't love me when I had to mature, when I realized that in the life we were living, you either bite or get bitten, when I realized that staying clean-handed would only bring me grief and sadness.

He began to distance himself gradually: the bed seemed too far away, he kept his hugs at bay, stayed late at the office to avoid sharing a bed, left early from our house to avoid breakfast together. I spared no effort to keep him close, planned dinners he would make excuses not to attend, tried to surprise him at the office only to be chased away. Then came the day he decided to move rooms. I was startled to enter the room we shared, where we had been so happy, now empty, without his clothes, without his pillow, without his bath products.

It hurt too much to see him so distant. He claimed he needed time to think, but there was no emotion in his words. We were both scared of what had happened in the previous months. After the incident where they tried to hurt me, I needed my husband's help. I wanted him to protect me, I needed his support, needed to be strong like him and not just his helpless wife.

Even after all my efforts to make him love me again, he never returned to our room. Then the girl came into the story. A woman's intuition is funny; I knew the moment he came home on a certain day that he had found another woman. Even with all the moments I tried to change Carlos's mind, using every possible means and humiliating myself more than I would allow at any other time, nothing stopped that moment from arriving.

"What is this?" I ask, not daring to touch the envelope in front of me.

"They're the divorce papers, y/n..." Carlos sighs, appearing for the first time in a long time for breakfast. "I tried to be as fair as possible, but you can look at them and then we'll negotiate."

"There will be no negotiation, Carlos! Because there will be no divorce," I reply, trying to stay firm. This day seemed close, but something in me still refused to believe it would come. Something in me refused to accept that I would have to divorce Carlos. This was just a phase, something that happens to any couple; we didn't need to be extremists.

"Y/n... please, be rational. We can't prolong this; it's the best way out for both of us," he tries to negotiate.

"And I disagree with your opinion. My God, Carlos! We're talking about our marriage! You didn't even try to give us a chance," I respond, frustrated.

"There's no solution anymore, y/n..." he murmurs to me, and that breaks me even more.

"I won't sign them, Carlos," I push the envelope away from me. The wedding ring gleams on my left hand with the movement, a simple touch of irony to the whole situation.

English is not my first language.

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

[alexanderwales]

My Very Brief Time as a Korean Rice Farmer

When my wife had been working at her company for ten years, her boss offered her a two week trip anywhere in the world she wanted to go. It was a small company, maybe thirty people, and she'd been one of the first employees, when they were even smaller.

We had wanted to go to Japan, but this was 2022, and they were still closed for COVID when we were making the plans. We decided on South Korea instead, which was my personal preference over Japan anyway (kimchi and k-dramas and the Joseon era!). I used Duolingo to learn Hangul (the script) and not all that much actual Korean.

We went to Changdeok Palace early in the morning on our second day in Seoul, getting there just before it opened. It's a huge place that's right in the city, surrounded, as most things in Seoul are, by other buildings. The Palace is actually a number of buildings built by a number of kings from the Joseon era.

Right when we came in, we were quickly approached by a guy in a blue hanbok. "Hanbok" is a word that means "traditional clothing" or something like that, so it's not actually descriptive, but it was powder blue and looked fancy. He had glasses and a slightly uneasy smile on his face, and approached us from far enough away that I had time to wonder if he was approaching us, and if he was, what he wanted.

"Excuse me, how long were you going to be here today?" he asked.

"We don't have plans," my wife said. "We were going to be here all day, long enough to see everything."

"Would you like to participate in a festival?" he asked.

We looked at each other and told him sure, and then followed him as he talked. (We passed a group of thirty children who had just been admitted with their teacher, and they seemed excited to see foreigners, so they kept yelling "Hello!" to us, which was probably the only English they knew. We waved and said "annyeonghaseyo!" back to them.)

What I thought was going on at this point was that we were getting upsold on something. I figured that we were going to see something special and extra, and then get charged for it. Whatever, we were on vacation, I was fine with that. We hadn't been in Korean long, and I thought "maybe they just station guys like this by the gate to rope people in". It was weird, but we were in a place where we didn't understand all the customs or speak the language, and my policy had been "just roll with it".

I did think it was weird that we were hoofing it across the palaces, and thought it was more weird when we went past a gate and into a place where no one else was apparently allowed. Our guide spoke good English, but when he'd been talking it had always been "the festival" or "the event" and "you'll be there most of the day" and "we'll make sure you have what you need". We were not clear on what was going on.

He mentioned that there would be a rice harvest, which I thought was weird since we were in a historical park in the middle of Seoul.

He told us that he'd give us a tour, because there wouldn't be time later, so he guided us through the Joseon-era gardens and temples. There was no one around, because that part of the grounds wasn't open until later in the day, so we got to see everything and ask whatever questions we wanted to ask, which has got to be the best possible way to experience a place. I was mostly struck by how much work it must have taken to make all this stuff and had lots of "down with the monarchy" feelings. There's a huge pond that's in the shape of the Korean peninsula, and god damn must that have taken a ton of time without a backhoe.

We were eventually taken a small place where they were setting things up, with a bunch of people milling about, and it was only then that we saw the rice: a small plot of it, no more than twenty feet to a side.

The rice was, in historical times, planted there so the king would have some understanding of what the crop yields would be like, since rice was the lifeblood of the country. It was harvested and inspected and whatnot to get some sense of the agriculture of the country, because anything that happened to the rice in these conditions was probably happening to rice all over the kingdom.

This rice harvest wasn't something that they just do with tourists every now and then, it only happens on this single day in the entire year, and me and my wife were two of the five people who would be doing it. The other three were all Korean government people of some kind.

They took us to a building and got us changed in our hanbok. "Hanbok" means "traditional clothes", and usually is associated with a nice and historical outfit, like someone in England dressing up in Regency era clothing. Here, it just meant "traditional farmer clothes".

Problem: I am six feet tall, which is quite tall for a Korean.

This woman was trying to dress me, and both because I was a bit overweight and quite tall, it was just not going well. My wife thought it was hilarious.

The other part of the kit was some orange rubber boots, which were not traditional but did prevent us from getting covered in mud. This is the most that I have ever looked like a goose.

When they were ready for us, we were handed tools to cut the rice. The ideal motion was to grab it around the base, move the hand up, then cut at the bottom. I am pretty sure that the thing we were handed was a sickle.

We got warned five or six times that they were extremely sharp, meant for slicing through the stalks of grain, and because there was a bit of a language barrier, the guy handing them to us kept nodding as he tried to make sure we understood that there was no small amount of danger.

My wife, five seconds after being handed her sickle, lunged at me with a "Hiya!" like she meant to stab me in the stomach. I jumped, five or six Koreans around us jumped, and my wife laughed and laughed. (My wife is great.)

When the photographers got there, we went into the muck and began harvesting. There were what felt like fifty photographers taking pictures of us while very loud drums played a traditional song and some people danced around us. We preened in front of the cameras, trying to take direction as best we could, and tossing the harvested rice off to the side so that two men with giant hammers could pound on it and make it into something like mochi (I think called tteok, but there was a lot of Korean happening).

After the photographers had gone, we had a little break, then were made to harvest rice in front of a group of Korean people, most of whom were, I think, either government functionaries or personalities or something. The drums were going again, I was sweating in my hanbok, and left hoping that my glasses wouldn't fall into the mud.

A third rice harvest was done for tourists, and the drums started up. I think this was the weirdest one for me, because I was a tourist on display for other tourists.

After the last of the rice was harvested, we had an interview with the largest English-speaking TV station in South Korea. All the questions were casual chit-chat questions, and I figured that only five or ten seconds would make it on air for a puff piece (which is what happened, with my wife hogging all the screen time).

When we had finally changed back into our normal clothes, we were given gifts by way of thanks, two wooden cups that we now use in the bathroom to hold toothbrushes, along with a pound of rice each (though not the stuff we'd harvested, which was made into tteok and we did get a chance to eat).

Our guide was super nice to us, answered some questions about what it's like to live in South Korea, and talked to us about places for us to visit. Over the next few days, we were able to find a few puff pieces on the internet, all in Korean.

I'm pretty sure they do this every year, always with token foreigners, and I hope some day I'm telling this story to someone and they say "oh yeah, that happened to me too".