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saerins · 3 months

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#001 SUDDENLY, COLORS 𖧧 NEXT: #002 PLAYING DOMINO ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — sae gets more than he bargained for when he decides to entertain you. and then suddenly, maybe he isn’t so indifferent to everything after all.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. bllk guys here are all pro players now. profanity, complicated relationships, reader is a working adult, implied ex-fwb situation with otoya, minorly questionable work ethics, mention of infidelity. word count: 3.8k.

༝༚༝༚ first chapter ! (bear with me because we’re gonna be in the early stages of sae & y/n getting to know each other) i hope you guys like this one as much as infy >_< the dynamic between yn & sae here is slightly different heh :) if you’re reading this: ily <3 + will add little mini extra facts at the end of each chapter ^_^

lights flashing, red carpets, familiar faces that feel so out of reach.

there’s an entire life out here that people like you, should you have been without connections, won’t get to experience in your lifetime. it’s eye-opening, and more than you bargained for. sure, when you heard that this is a party thrown by one of the japan’s national soccer team’s sponsors, you expected a lot of a-list names, but to think it’s this many.

beautiful, handsome people litter every corner of the destination, enough to fill anyone with a year’s worth of anxieties just simply looking at them. to think, this is the kind of life they live in the regular; photographed by everyone, welcomed and greeted like royalty by staff and strangers alike.

it’s nothing you can ever get used to. luckily, you don’t have to.

you stand at the top of the stairs in the venue, looking around as you try to spot your friend. on the ground floor, you see many people huddled in different groups, smiles plastered together as they catch up with one another. all you can hear are everyone’s voice and laughters muffled together and melding into one giant mess. many movie stars, models, athletes all gathered in one place, commanding the attention of everyone in the room as well as those who are watching the livestreams from home. that’s to be expected though, considering this is a party thrown by the top sports brand in japan—surely supporters and fans alike are tuning in from all over just to see their favourite celebrities.

you bet the chat is getting blown up with comments about how the captain of the soccer team looks absolutely handsome when he cleans up, or how the up and coming setter in the volleyball team is a quiet assassin if looks could kill.

there’s a vibration in your purse, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you fish your phone out to see that it’s from eita.

you slowly make your way down the stairs, carefully so that you don’t accidentally catch your heels against the bright red fabric under you. it’s not everyday you get invited to events like this, and it’s certainly not everyday you get to wear something this nice—you don’t want to end up falling face flat in front of all these important (and famous, or infamous) people.

you make a mental note to yourself to thank eita again for getting you this dress.

as you look around the floor, trying to spot whatever private booth eita’s in, your eyes flick across the top of someone’s head. somebody that could catch anyone’s attention. those alluring eyes and that tall frame. you catch your breath.

eita can wait. maybe you should take a detour first.

as you’re drawing closer to him, you can’t help but think how much more handsome he is in person; all you’d been able to see of him thus far is whatever you saw through the screen, or in paper from the photoshoots he’d been a part of. now that you’re looking at him in the flesh, you don’t think they do him justice. not by a long shot. he’s still handsome as hell in whichever form of media he’s in, but in real life, they have nothing on his actual person.

his lips look soft and pink right there in front of you, and his lashes frame his eyes just perfectly that you’re almost envious.

in all fairness, you’re not used to talking to mega huge celebrities like him. he’s a pro-athlete, but his popularity is in the millions, his talent for being japan’s best offensive midfielder skyrocketing him to fame at the young age of eighteen.

nearly ten years later and he’s somehow still topping the lists for most popular male athletes from japan.

opportunities like this don’t come easy, especially for people like you—you’re not stupid enough to not take it. with a deep breath, you put your game face on; he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t have to know the real you, just the you that you want to show him.

somehow, he manages to make your heart beat faster than anyone else in the room, and he hasn’t even looked your way. half of you is telling yourself you’re doing this for a friend, but the other half of you is selfish, it wants to see what this is all about.

“what are you having?”

the moment you set your purse down on the bar, choosing to stand beside him instead of being a normal person and settling in front of the bartender to get his attention for your drinks, sae finds himself perplexed.

there are many reasons people would want to talk to him for. if you’re from the sponsor’s team, then you’d want to run a collaboration idea by him. if you’re another celebrity, then you’d probably be asking for a picture. if you’re press, well, your occupation is an answer in and of itself.

for the first time, sae’s eyes land on you. on that smile, on your eyes.

dim lights, violets and pinks bouncing off the disco ball, and somehow you do look pretty in spite all that. he’s never seen you before, but then again, he doesn’t pay attention enough to anything in the media for him to be able to know all the celebrities in japan. you have to be one, right? he doesn’t see the press card around your neck.

your dress hugs your body nicely. it’s all black, and a one-shoulder. your thin gold necklace holds a feather charm at the end. the way you tuck your hair carefully behind your ear unveils your matching earrings. you’re pretty, very pretty. but he thinks you’re about to be a pain soon enough. and that probably cancels it out.

“water.”

maybe if he’s boring enough, you’ll leave him alone. maybe if he’s rude enough, he’ll drive you away. that’s the whole point of why he’s here anyway, to escape those pointless conversations with these media… acquaintances, and oliver and the others were being nuisances in the booth anyway. so much so that he needed a breather.

unless you’re offering an escape, he won’t entertain anything.

“do you have a game tomorrow?” you ask, setting your phone down on the tabletop. a measly excuse for a conversation starter but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to see where you’re going with this.

is that why you think he’s drinking water? he shakes his head, “no.”

what do you want with him?

“don’t tell me you’re a lightweight,” you guess, smirking at him.

sae can’t figure you out; where other people are easy to guess, he can’t make heads or tails about you. why hasn’t he asked you to leave him alone yet? better yet, why hasn’t his own two feet walked away like he intended to before you came and smiled at him?

“just didn’t feel like drinking,” sae tells you. (you actually guessed right, but there’s no way he’s going to admit to that out of the blue.)

you hum in contemplation, your head resting against your balled fist as you look at him, pursing your lips like you’re thinking of something. he finds himself wondering exactly that: what the fuck are you thinking?

right now, you’re a mix between being interesting and annoying and he’s kind of leaning towards the latter.

all of a sudden, you fish a coin out of your purse, grinning.

“you look like you want me to leave you alone,” you tell him, sighing, though you’re probably not so much disappointed or affected as much as being playful, like one of those children that like to test the limits of their parents. you’re perceptive at least, he’ll give you that. “how about a deal? i’ll toss this coin, and if it lands on heads, you’ll do me a favour, no questions asked. if it lands on tails, i’ll do the same. then you can tell me to go away.”

to be fair, sae could just walk away and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

“fine.”

so why? why is he agreeing to your terms?

you flick the coin into the air with your thumb, and sae watches your face as you anticipate the results. you’re staring so intently at such an inconsequential coin that he finds it both comical and troublesome. there’s something both alluring and childish about your presence.

“aha! heads!” you shout excitedly, and sae tries to keep his head down to avoid any unwanted attention. if you cause anyone to come over and pull him aside for some small talk he’s going to kill you. you look so blissfully ignorant of that fact, though. lucky for him, almost everyone around you seems too self-absorbed to care. “looks like you owe me something.”

sae sighs. “i have the feeling i’m gonna regret this,” he mumbles to himself, though you’re blatantly beaming at him, excited at your little win. you shouldn’t be; if it’s too troublesome sae would still shoot you down. he reminds himself that he doesn’t even have to follow through with the bet—who are you to him? “what do you want?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you answer, not missing a beat, ordering a shot of vodka and having it slid over to you. you down it in a second, looking even more invigorated.

does alcohol wake you up even more?

something tells sae that he’ll get nothing out of this conversation, so the gears are already turning in his head on how to slip out of this situation, make a break for the bathroom or something. “this sounds like a hassle, so i’m just gonna leave—”

“is soccer all you care about?”

“huh?”

yeah, you’re definitely leaning more towards annoying.

as he expected, you continue speaking without even listening to him. still, that’s not the kind of topic he thought you had in mind. soccer? you don’t seem like a fanatic.

“i mean, do you do anything else outside of soccer? like play games? or, i don’t know, have some secret hobby like sewing?”

sae deadpans at that last one. what do you want to know? his secrets? he’ll definitely stick with his plan of being boring. you’ll probably give up sooner or later. “no. just soccer.”

you press your lips into a firm line, like you know he’s full of it but you don’t immediately call him out. “no hobbies outside of soccer? okay.”

“yes, i have no life.”

he nearly smirks at the horrified pout that graces your lips. your scepticism nearly makes him laugh, but he holds it in. you’re probably messing with him, but he can do just the same.

“heard that your little brother scored the winning goal at the champion’s league game, how do you feel about that?” you down another shot.

sae snorts at your obvious discontent at his disinterest, though it goes over your head because maybe you’re a little lightweight too.

“yeah, i was there. i mean, i’m proud of him if that’s what you’re looking for,” he tells you—something so generic and so bland that you can probably form the answers in your head yourself.

your line of questioning continues despite sae’s half-assed participation. maybe he’s only entertaining you because he doesn’t feel like entertaining anyone else. and maybe because he probably won’t see you again so he wouldn’t feel the need to be cautiously polite around you (and so his manager won’t nag him about keeping up an image). from what he gathers, you’re probably not a celebrity—call it his gut instinct. you sure look like one, but you don’t act like them.

there’s the incessant vibrating of his phone in his pants pocket that he ignores. meanwhile you’re accepting his lacklustre answers left and right.

“actually i’m curious, itoshi sae, who’s your best friend? some say it’s ryusei shidou and others say it’s oliver aiku. what do you say?”

he leans an elbow against the table, staring you straight in the eye. you’re looking right back at him, a smugness in those irises.

“who are you, by the way?” he asks, because despite him entertaining you for—he checks his watch—nearly half an hour, he still doesn’t even know your name. and clearly, you know all about him. or at least, what the internet can provide.

you inch closer, grinning despite the scowl on his face. “let me change the question,” you propose, because you’re always so adept at switching subjects when it benefits you, pupils scanning your immediate surroundings briefly before you lean in to whisper in his ear. “people like to say you’re hard to get, is that true?”

(because that’s what it seems like—from press coverage to girls, it doesn’t look like it’s easy to garner his interest and thus consequently his effort. if there’s one thing everyone can agree on about itoshi sae is that he screams exclusivity.)

he clenches his jaw when he feels your breath hit his ear, and he hates himself for staying this long because the moment you see his ears go red, you’re smirking.

“is there anything wrong with not wanting to waste time with people who won’t matter in a matter of days?” and that’s probably the only completely honest answer he’s given you for the night—because he doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t see making it into his future. he can’t say that for work purposes since it’s his team who manages everything, but as far as his personal life goes, that’s all you have to know.

that’s all he’s going to give you.

from the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar face, the light in their eyes going dark when they realise you’d been taking up his time.

“heading off already?” you ask, sensing his restlessness.

“yeah, well, i gave you a lot already, so…” he trails off, just hoping you’ll get the hint and leave him be.

you nod, taking your phone off the table, fishing something else out of your purse but sae’s too preoccupied looking at someone else to notice.

and just like earlier, you inch even closer, finally commanding his attention. sae catches a whiff of your perfume, a hint of sweet mixed with a little spice. you’re so close now that all he sees is you, and for some reason, he’s not moving.

you’re so close he can count the lashes on your eyes, can tell your lipstick’s not really pink but more mauve, can see up close that ever-growing smirk of yours when you catch him off-guard. and he expects you to stop, just like you did earlier, but you’re coming even closer and for some reason he can’t help but close his eyes, long lashes briefly brushing your face before he feels it go away.

when he opens his eyes, you’re not smirking anymore. that playful smirk is gone and replaced by—he can’t really tell—bashfulness? is he hallucinating the heat that built up to your cheeks?

“thanks for wasting some time on me,” you whisper, slipping something into his jacket pocket before walking away, a wave of your fingers all that you give.

and sae’s left wondering if he really was just about to let you kiss him if you didn’t move away.

he watches as you head off in the direction of the booths, a surprise washing over his face when he sees a familiar face taking your hand at the top of the first flight of stairs. that head of white with a hint of green—you know otoya?

sae takes out the piece of paper you slipped in his pocket—a name card. your name is y/n, apparently, and you work for a magazine. he scoffs, realising the intentions behind your earlier attempt to get him to talk. behind, you’d scribbled really quickly: the favour: approve this interview please? :D

you really are… something. by the way you questioned him, and your questions by itself, you must not have done this for very long. it’s a nice attempt though. still, sae has no reason to play along.

he can’t help but wonder, though—that last question: was it for the magazine, or your personal curiosity? his eyes linger on the phone number at the bottom of your card.

“hey, who was that?”

sae turns his attention to the girl he saw earlier, now in front of him, curious eyes following you as otoya walks you to their table. he quickly slips the name card back into his pocket. “dunno, she was just asking where otoya was.”

as the girl drags him away by the hand, he looks back, catching a glimpse of you staring at him before otoya guides you to the table, his hand on the small of your back, and then you fade out of view.

maybe, just for once, he’ll play along. again. because there’s something inexplicable about you, about your existence.

“look who made it back in one piece,” oliver exclaims as sae makes his way back to their table a couple of hours later, taking a seat next to the man himself. “what did bianca want you for this time?”

shidou puts down his glass of champagne to wince at sae, a pitiful glance thrown his way. “she's kinda territorial, bro. blink if you need help.”

snickers are heard around the table, most of them knowing how exasperated sae can get sometimes, even if he never actually says anything.

“you know if you guys are dating, you can just tell us right?” karasu teases, joining in the conversation.

sae rolls his eyes, ignoring them entirely. the topic about him and bianca had gone completely stale for him. honestly, if his manager didn’t convince him that he absolutely had to attend till the end, sae would’ve left halfway. maybe he wouldn’t have attended at all if he had a choice in his own schedule. then again, if he didn’t come tonight, he wouldn’t have met you.

is that a good thing?

speaking of, there’s a lack of your presence here that just mildly disappoints him. mildly.

“where’s your friend?” sae asks otoya, who’s busy typing away at his phone.

his fingers stop, and he cocks a brow at sae’s question, more confused by the fact that sae is bothering to ask such a thing. “she had a thing so she left earlier,” he says, brushing it off. “why? did you need anything? saw her talking to you just now.”

it’s like they both can sense the sudden interest of everyone around the table.

sae shakes his head, leaning back against the chair. “nothing.”

sensing something amiss, oliver leans forward, looking the most interested he’s been all night. “oh? sae of all people asking about a girl? don’t see that often,” he mocks, and sae sighs internally, immediately regretting opening his mouth.

“gotta hand it to you, though,” karasu says, nudging otoya on the elbow. “she’s pretty.”

“isn’t she that girl you said that slapped you so hard back in high school that you cried?” yukimiya joins in, his statement making the guys burst into laughter.

otoya groans, shrinking in his seat. “shut the fuck up. she was being annoying.”

“nah, she was just keeping eita in check after she heard he cheated on his girlfriend,” karasu fills in the gaps for everyone.

sae listens quietly to them divulge bits and pieces of you that they got from otoya back when you were still there with them.

apparently, you’ve known otoya since middle school, and you’ve been friends all the way till university until you drifted apart for some reason (that otoya won’t share). sae thinks it probably has to do with that “we used to fool around” statement of his. at least, unlike any of the girls he fools around with, otoya never entertained lewd questions regarding you.

were you special to him?

“tell us more,” yukimiya taunts, fully enjoying the tinge of red he sees on otoya’s ears.

“she’s just a girl who likes to clear out my fridge all the time. annoying pest i can’t get rid of,” otoya says, though everyone knows that it’s just his sharp tongue at work. he looks like he’s close to malfunctioning, a sight that sae has never seen before, fully earning his intrigue.

thankfully for otoya, oliver shifts the attention (unfortunately) to sae. “no, what i wanna know is, how a girl like y/n managed to catch this guy’s interest,” he says, pointing to sae, a cocky grin on his face. “so spill, are you interested?”

that must mean that you and otoya have nothing going on then? not that he’s curious. and not that he would put it past oliver to suggest that he steal you from someone else.

he’s not even sure why all these thoughts are in his head in the first place. sae puts on his best poker face, raising his brows as if in silent denial. “i’m not.”

oliver’s grin mirrors that of the cheshire cat, and it’s all sae has to see to know that he’s about to suggest something that will earn a ripple in the timeline.

“otoya, phone,” oliver demands, and otoya nonchalantly slides his phone over. a quick few taps of his fingers and he finds your public profile before sliding otoya’s phone over to sae. “there, follow her then, if it’s nothing.”

despite seemingly doing this all for fun, oliver is betting on much more than that. if he gets to see what the whole big deal is, why not? on the one hand, otoya is refusing to say anything about his real feelings about you. on the other, sae is refusing as well to admit that maybe he’s a little bit charmed by you.

sure, asking sae to follow you is like sending a whole army of girls chasing after a baby with a very prized candy but oliver barely knows you, so it’s fair game where he stands. besides, he’s not forcing sae to do it. he just knows he will—sae never bothers showing interest in anything, let alone a woman. he’s not following any girls either apart from other celebrities, and that’s because they cornered him to it. if he does this, you’re the only comparatively normal girl he’ll follow. sae might not be aware of the implications and whatnot, but oliver sure does. it’ll take a while for it to show, but he’ll wait patiently.

the only reason otoya hasn’t been subjected to that same problem for following you is because his popularity doesn’t come close to sae’s. not even oliver’s comes close. neither are their fans as rabid as his.

and when sae scoffs and takes out his phone to do just what oliver expects him to, oliver’s eyes flick over to look at otoya, a certain unsettled look in his friend’s eyes. neither guys are ever straightforward with their feelings—he leans back and relaxes, waiting for a show.

whoever you are, y/n, whatever you have going on, good luck to you.

extras !

sae and bianca go way back, but so do y/n and eita! the latter more so than the former.

this is y/n’s first time ever attending an event like this in her x years of knowing eita.

sae’s group of friends consist of: oliver, otoya, shidou, karasu, yukimiya and sendou. (sendou has a conflicting schedule so he wasn’t there that night.)

taglist! @yuzurins @raphsimp @mxplesyrvp @lust4rin @saeskiss

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x y/n #blue lock x you #itoshi sae #blue lock x y/n #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #sae fluff #bllk fluff #bllk imagines #૪ aeri’s fics !

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sunlightmurdock · 7 months

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Like This Forever | 0.1 | J. Seresin

masterlist | next chapter

You’re thinking of the past, right as the future is about to change forever.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. wc: 3k (18+ minors do not interact)

A U G U S T 1 9 7 4 / F E B R U A R Y 1 9 9 1

Driftwood — small town southwestern Texas, situated in Lockheart County. Springs, stony hills, and steep canyons. It’s good land, occupying a tiny patch of earth in the middle of the Edwards Plateu. That’s what they all say: good land, good soil. Large acreages of wheat for miles around, grown annually for harvest and winter through spring livestock grazing. The remaining two-thirds of the region is rangeland devoted to cattle ranching. Ranches in this region often seem older than the landscape itself. Lockheart County’s livestock industry is nationally appreciated, it was, even back then. Ranches here are huge, they’ve been there for generations. The town of Driftwood, itself, sits in a valley. It holds on to the people who settle there just like it holds onto the weight of that thick, summer heat all through the day. So hot that even the trees bend and furl like they’re seeking shade too.

Back then, Driftwood was even smaller than it is now. Post Office, Church, two schools, a fleet of locally owned stores on Main Street and a few other buildings for the fathers who weren’t ranchers or ranch hands to work.

On that day in early August, most of Driftwood’s thousand person population were nestled amongst the pews of St. Augustine’s Church, just outside of town. It’s a mile and a half from Main Street, and a mile and a half from the furthest fence on the Seresin Ranch. Their house is a sprawling thing that Bill’s grandfather had built — they haven’t got that kind of money now, and they didn’t on that morning in August. They’ve got three boys, who were squirming around the front pew, melting into the aged wood below them in their smart white button ups. They’ve got another boy too, standing behind Pastor James, holding a processional candle.

Jake’s their youngest. He was nine back then. Small for his age, especially when you stood him next to his brothers and their broad shoulders and long legs. His hair was beyond blond, lightened from the sun. His cheeks dusted with brown freckles and his eyes always narrowed into a type of John Wayne kind of squint. Jake loved John Wayne back then. He loved the cowboys on his bed sheets, and the fact he could see the cattle from his bedroom window. All he wanted back then was a pistol on his hip and a one-way ticket to El Dorado.

Mary-Lynn Seresin grew up in Driftwood, just like her husband had. She had known Bill since she was a little girl, and she had always known that she would marry him one day. Her nails were polished pink that day, sitting pretty atop the procession card as she fans herself with it. Two pews behind, you could still see a droplet of sweat bead from her neat blonde hairline and trail into the collar of her blue polka-dotted Sunday dress.

On that particular Sunday, the fans had packed up and stopped working. So, all six hundred of you who could make it out to St. Augustine’s we’re trapped in there — not just with Pastor James’ storytelling, but with the thick heat pressing down on the entire valley feeling like it had all been shut in this one room with the rest of you.

At the front, Jake Seresin’s cheeks were red, his hair was beading with sweat and his scarecrow, twig-like arms were trembling around the cross. He struggled with its weight and you had watched his green eyes flash out towards the crowd, briefly landing on his mother. Mary-Lynn gave him a proud nod. Bill was staring at the stagnant ceiling fans above their heads. You, were staring right at Jake.

Eight years old yourself, just eight weeks younger than Jake is, you have known that little grass-stain your entire life. In fact, Mary-Lynn and your mother found out that they were expecting just days apart. They had been in the same high school grade as girls, had married men who were good friends, and back then your mother had worked in the town’s hair salon five days a week. They grew very close through their pregnancies. Your mother was the first one to send flowers when Mary-Lynn went into labour a month and a half early.

Jake’s John-Wayne-Squint deepened through the heavy air, watching you like you were both about to draw pistols and settle this like men — right in the middle of Pastor James’ final verse. Your pigtails and your white Sunday dress weren’t fooling him. His robes and the heavy cross in his hand weren’t fooling you. Clearly following his brother’s gaze, Daniel Seresin turns and peers at you over his shoulder. He’s the closest in age to Jake, but he’s still five years older. Thirteen then and too grown up for childish squabbles like those, he just turned back to the front and shook his head.

The first three of the Seresin boys were all born within three consecutive years. Matthew, Noah and Daniel. They’re each tall like their mother, blonde like her too, and have inherited their father’s linebacker shoulders. Noah was fourteen and about to be a freshman in high school. After he fixed the chain on your bike at the beginning of summer, you were full-blown head-over-heels in love with him back then. You thought you were anyway.

Jake, however, had been in your class since Kindergarten and you had been forced to share your toys with him for even longer than that.

His arms trembled before you and your mouth had twitched. Neither one of you was listening to the service. It was almost over. Just a few more minutes until Pastor James wrapped up and the people of Driftwood and poured out of this sauna and out into the dry, morning sun.

Quickly, you shot a look at your mother sitting at your side. She was listening intently, staring right ahead with her neatly steamed clothes and her hair-sprayed hair. You’ll always remember the heavy smell of her rose-scented perfume. Every time you inhale it, you’re sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her fix her face in her vanity. Then, you looked to your father on the other side of you. Exactly the same. Pleased, you turn your attention back to the youngest Seresin boy.

Scrunching your nose, you had sat forwards just slightly and stuck your tongue out at him. Quite the diss back then. Jake’s green eyes had widened, sweat beading down his back under his white shirt and his service robes.

Driftwood is a safe place. It’s a fantastic town to raise children. The schools aren’t overcrowded and cars don’t speed through the centre of town. Country roads are a different story. But no one bats an eyelid, especially not back then, when their children are out of sight.

Mary-Lynn was busily detailing the events of her dinner party that coming Saturday to a group of women that are invited. She’s quite the hostess still. Your mother stood amongst them. Neither one of them were concerned about where their children were in the slightest. Until, that is, the sounds of muffled screaming filled their ears. The mothers of Driftwood rush to the commotion in their kitten heels and pretty dresses. Your mother was the first around the corner. She would recognise the sound of her baby’s screaming anywhere. But you weren’t the one in trouble. As usual, you had been causing it.

Your white dress grass-stained and muddy, dirt under your fingernails and covering your formerly white, frilled socks. You were kneeling. You haven’t yet noticed the crowd of women rushing in your direction. You’ve got Mary-Lynn Seresin’s youngest son pressed into the dirt, kneeling on his back and twisting his arm uncomfortably behind him.

“Say Uncle!” You demanded.

“You’re so dead! Get off!” Jake struggled under you, screaming with all the force that his growing lungs would allow. His voice must have been audible across the entire valley with how he was hollering. Freckled cheek pressed into the dirt, his white shirt was destroyed and he was in the middle of ruining his shoes with how he was scrambling for purchase in the dried dirt.

Quickly, your mother had grabbed you under your arms and hauled you off of the boy, spinning you to face her.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”

“He started it! — He said my dress was ugly!”

“It is ugly, you look like a girl!” Jake huffed from behind you as he had stumbled onto his feet and taken a look down at his church clothes. Slowly, he had lifted his gaze to look at his mother. Sullen and worried looking, he began to pout. It wasn’t working. Mary-Lynn had raised three boys by then, she knew when they were trying to play innocent.

The thing about growing up so close together, is that approaching double digits was a confusing time. It was around that age that your mother began to put her foot down when it came to all of those tom-boy activities. Girls might roughhouse and come home with holes in their jeans and mud on their faces, but young ladies didn’t. The dress was her idea.

Jake’s comment had been passing, just a whisper as his family had headed into church ahead of yours, but he was right — you did look like a girl. Back then, that wasn’t a compliment coming from him. So, you had cornered him outside and pummeled him into the dirt. Fair is fair.

“Mary-Lynn, I am so sorry about her — send me the dry-cleaning bill. I’m sorry, we should go.” Your mother had sighed in a hurry, frowning down at your ruined clothes, then looking towards Jake’s. You’ll always remember the smile on Mary-Lynn’s face after. Not pity, because she knew you were in a lot of trouble for this. Just fondness. She had gently patted your mother’s forearm and shaken her head.

“Let’s finish our chat. They’re already filthy. Let them play.”

Looking up at her, you hadn’t understood why she was siding with you back then. You had just almost broken her son’s arm for sport. As you grew, Mary-Lynn Seresin was always on your side. In her kitten heels and dresses, she remembered being a dirt-covered little girl once too. No one was telling her son that it was time yet, to be a man. There’s no harm in letting you be young a little longer.

Your mother had looked uncertain, but people in Driftwood always looked to Mary-Lynn for advice. She had somehow managed to keep four boys in line perfectly, her parenting expertise was studied by those around her. Finally, she had given you a brief nod.

You remember spinning on the delicate almost-heel of your church shoes, rounding on Jake, ready to brawl. You have no clue where the stick came from, but he was armed when you had turned around — but Jake always fought fair. He tossed you a stick of your own and took aim. Green eyes narrowed, he was trying to look down his freckled nose at you, but you were taller then.

“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.

You’re not eight anymore. Jake’s not nine. This time of the year, you both happen to be twenty-six. You aren’t trying to kill him with a stick anymore either. You’re sitting at your favourite bar in Driftwood — there are four now — watching your best friend up on stage. He’s always confident. He has been since he hit that growth spurt when he was twelve. Since then, Jake has been unstoppable. But on stage is when he really shines.

The Dark Star feels like an old bar. It’s packed every Friday night. It smells like malt and smoke and Jake’s been playing here every Saturday since he was seventeen. This is the last time that it will ever be like this, and you don’t even know it yet. Jake’s in the middle of an original. People around here know him, they know his music. They might not get all the words right, but he always gets people singing.

Jake isn’t small for his age now. He grew into his nose, and he inherited those big shoulders, his skin’s tanned from his days out at the ranch. He’s strong and funny and kind. Sometimes it catches you off guard, when you turn your head and find a man in place of the little boy you once knew.

You’re in a booth, talking numbers. It turns out that you had inherited your mother’s knack for business strategy, and Jake’s way with words had rubbed off on you long ago.

You don’t look like the little girl Jake had once known either. If he was concerned about you looking like a girl before, then you can only imagine how dismayed he must be when he looks at you now. Breasts and everything.

“It’s more than potential, Stu — you saw how crazy people were for him when he was opening for The Ashford Band.” You tell him, fingers curled around a brown glass bottle. This is already settled, the deal is already done. You knew from the second that he walked in that you had Stu Adler suckered.

This is a deal that you’ve been mulling over for a couple of months now. Getting Jake on his first headline tour. His debut album came out last week and it’s doing well, but the record label is tiny and the publicity deal is even smaller. Jake’s making pennies compared to other people in his genre, but you’re about to change all of that.

“Six months is a long time on the road. It’s a different lifestyle,” Stu’s dishwater grey eyes flicker briefly up from the plunging neckline of your top to meet your gaze. He’s an older man, with a once successful career in Los Angeles. Now, he spends his time scrounging small towns for talent. He’s just a stepping stone in your plans for Jake. “You’re sure he can handle it?”

Stretching your legs out, you scoff incredulously at the accusation as Jake’s last song dwindles behind you. The beer bottle is cool against your lips. Stu swallows, watching your lips purse around the rim to drink. You know he’d die for the chance to get his wrinkly, old dick in your mouth — it’s why Jake’s about to get the best deal of his life.

“Jake? — Of course.”

“Can you?” Stu asks. The light on you for once makes you cringe. Even so, your poker face doesn’t falter. Calmly staring across the table at him, a small smile on your face. “Y’know, he’s going to need a manager that I can rely on. I.e. — one that he won’t dump, sweetheart.”

This only makes your smile grow. “Jake is like a brother to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

It’s that lie that secures the deal. Six months, a hundred and sixty dates across the US. Mostly small venues, but it’s his first headline tour — and it’s all because of you. Because of that one little white lie. Letting Stu think that he’s got a chance with you. Letting him think that you’ve never fucked Jake.

You have. Twice, already by this point. Once, after senior prom. Your date was an asshole and his was cruel. You’d parked his truck out in the west pasture of the Seresin ranch and got a little too drunk under the stars, and wound up with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. The second time was Thanksgiving two years ago. Your family joined his. All of his brothers have fiancés or wives now. Sharing Jake’s bed in his childhood home that night, neither one of you was drunk. You were just lonely, and maybe bored.

Tonight, there are a couple of different factors at play. Sure, by the time that you and Jake collapse down onto that red, velvet couch in the Dark Star’s ‘dressing room’, you’ve had plenty to drink. You’re not quite as lonely as you were that thanksgiving, though.

You turn your head and he’s grinning at the ceiling, chest heaving from the energetic final song. His arms stretch along the backs of the couch, his eyes closed for a moment. You watch him silently.

“You’re incredible.” Jake’s half-cut on an unhealthy mix of tequila and vodka, but smiling, eyes still shut, chin still pointed towards the sky. He gives his head a small shake. “A hundred and sixty dates.”

A smile plasters itself across your lips. As drunk as you are, it’s nice to be complimented for your hard work. “Yeah, we’ll see if you still think I’m so incredible when you’re living off of burgers and beer and still have eighty shows to go.”

The smell of cigarettes lives within the fibre of this room. Part of the furniture, nestled amongst the cracks in the red painted walls. There’s the couch that you’re sitting on, and an illuminated vanity against the far wall, and then a coat stand. It’s not much of a dressing room, but it’s fine.

You just wish it would stop spinning.

“I mean it.” His fingers rest atop your denim clad thigh, patting platonically. You hear him sigh from beside you. He squeezes at the supple skin under his hand. “Thank you.”

“Jake… since when do you have manners?” You ask him. Both of you are sitting with your eyes shut on this old, probably dirty, velvet couch. It’s five in the morning. The two of you might have gone a little overboard with celebrating. Wayne Mayhew, the owner of the Dark Star might have threatened to kick you both out of his bar if you didn’t finally get off of his damn stage ten minutes ago.

But there’s a high buzzing between the two of you that feels electric. Wordlessly, you know Jake feels it too. That this is the last night. Here, in this shitty hometown bar. Everything is about to change. After this tour, nothing will ever be the same again — for either of you.

Jake’s thumb trails back and forth in just one small pattern, reminding you that it’s there on your thigh.

It’s been on your mind all day, for no reason at all. That Sunday in August in 1974. Your ruined church dress and the fat bruise on Jake’s cheek the next day when you had seen him at the market. The start of it all.

Those late night drives and all the evenings you studied together. Jake’s football games and his band practices — back when he had thought he wanted to be in a band. Him drying your tears and making you laugh. Growing up together, talking for hours and hours about all of the possibilities. This was everything Jake had ever wanted, and he’s thanking you.

Your eyelids weigh double what they normally do — heavy as you blink open your eyes and turn your head. This time, he’s looking across at you. The tips of his fingers brush the inseam of your blue, low-rise jeans. His face is calm, he isn’t saying anything and he’s far from doing anything either.

Scrunching your nose, you poke your tongue out at him. Across the couch, Jake lifts his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s got stubble now. Stubble, and chest hair and an Adam’s apple. But that look, that glint in his eye that’s just daring you to try him has always been the same.

Jake’s fingers twitch, pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Dim lighting, fifteen year old red paint on each of the four walls, and that perpetual cigarette smell — it’s hardly a romantic fantasy. And this is far from a good idea.

But it’s Jake. Confident, loud Jake who gets shy when he’s around someone he really likes. Funny, smart-mouthed Jake who under it all is a great listener. Goofy, habitual Jake who has the nighttime routines of a fifty year old housewife.

Strong-willed, handsome, Jake, your best friend — who’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.

…

@fia-thefirst @daggerspare-standingby @dempy @v0id-chaos @moonlight-addisyn @grxcisxhy-wp @shakespeareanwannabe @coconut152 @330bpm-whiplash @takemetooneverlanddd @princess76179 @loveofvernonslife @averyhotchner @trickphotography2 @sushiwriterhere @the-romanian-is-bae @atarmychick007 @talktomegooseman @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @roostersforevergirl @buckysdollforlife @abaker74 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @whatislovevavy @lonelywriter10 @s-u-t @topguncortez @callsign-joyride @rosedurin @86laura11 @theenorthstar @mygyn @growup-thatbeautiful @percysaidnever @katiedid-3 @its-the-pilot

#jake smut #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #Jake Seresin fic #jake seresin #Glen powell #Jake hangman Seresin #top gun: maverick

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biconickyoshi · 5 months

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Zuko and Aang as they appear in Book 2: Water of my slowburn Zukaang AU, The Avatar and the Fire Prince!

Overall Synopsis (for new readers):

In the year 96 AG, a freshly burned and banished 13-year-old Prince Zuko discovers a strange boy frozen in an iceberg. When Zhao interferes with Zuko's plans to deliver the Avatar to his father, Aang helps Zuko and Iroh escape. They take refuge in the abandoned Air Temples, Aang searching for any remnants of his people that he can find. Along the way, he teaches an indoctrinated Zuko about the true nature of the Air Nomads. Zuko must come to terms with the fact that everything he has been taught was a lie, while Iroh must acknowledge and face the sins of his past. Eventually, Aang and Zuko become close friends, and Zuko begins to feel things he has never felt for anyone before. However, Zhao will not give up easily, and will do whatever it takes to capture the Avatar and his traitor accomplices.

Book 2 Synopsis:

Zuko and Iroh have now officially denounced the Fire Nation and the Royal Family and are dedicating themselves to helping Aang fight against the forces of their homeland. After narrowly escaping Admiral Zhao at Crescent Island during the winter solstice of 96 AG, Aang, Zuko, and Iroh travel south in search of the Southern Water Tribe village Aang has been dreaming about. The village is in danger: the Southern Raiders are coming, and it will be up to our trio - with the help of a couple of Water Tribe siblings - to unite the remaining villages of the Southern Water Tribe so that they will stand a fighting chance.

I got an iPad for Xmas and I’ve spent the past couple days working on this! :) I’m super happy with how it turned out!

Zuko’s about 14 here - his hair length is how it looks about halfway through this Book. I’ll probably do another piece to show what he looks like at the end of the Book since his hair is a lot longer now with it being almost a year since he cut it in the AU’s timeline (we’re now approaching the Northern Water Tribe storyline). I’ve also never drawn weapons before… so I hope his broadswords don’t look too wonky 😅

Aang is about 13 here. He’s wearing a new outfit as well, which I thought made sense since this AU takes place over 3-4 years instead of less than one year like in the OG series. Aang’s gonna grow a lot over the course of this AU, so he can’t just keep wearing his Air Nomad trainee clothes indefinitely lol.

I plan to do a lot more pieces in the future as I get the hang of digital art, so I would like to draw more characters (like Iroh, Sokka, and Katara) and more looks for Aang and Zuko. I’m also really excited for Book 3, which will be Earth in my fic (Earth is my absolute favorite season of the OG show). Zuko’s hair will probably be long enough to pull back into a ponytail again at some point during that book… Though this time it will be a different style :) gotta do some brainstorming for that one!

I’m close to wrapping up the next chapter, in which our characters make a return to the Northern Air Temple! I haven’t had as much time to work on it recently just due to all the holiday stuff that’s been going on. It’s probably gonna be a shorter chapter as well (which I don’t mind, I hope y’all don’t either). But after that, we’ll finally be in the Northern Water Tribe! :)

#the avatar and the fire prince #taatfp #my art #atla #atla au #zuko #aang #atla fan art #avatar the last airbender au #zukaang #zukaang au #zukaang fanfic #atla fanfic #zuko x aang #aang x zuko #ao3

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kaiser-author-san-iii · 2 months

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Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem) Creator!Reader

A/N: okay okay. I'm very sorry for this overdue chapter. I've been busy farming for primogems and playing Stardew Valley. I have joined many other fandoms, especially with the release of the Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse movie, and have been collecting the comics. Sue me /j. I have a lot of stories that need updating haha. But anyway, thank you so much for the support you guys have given me. It's fantastic! I'll be sure to continue with the updates whenever possible! Any questions, please DM. Any suggestions, DM me!

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially harder when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only the Fatui Skirmishers but the Fatui Harbingers?

Tags/Warnings: female reader, Creator!reader, Cult Au, contains spoilers of the Archon Quests and World Quests (read at your own risk)

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora

Chapter 3 | To Be Aware and Be Prepared

<<<First <<<Last Next>>>

MASTERLIST

OPERA EPICLESE, FONTAINE

It had started as a normal day. As normal as it could possibly get with the centrism of Lady Furina and the citizens of Fontaine. There was a pause before it then burst. At first, it was seemingly unnoticeable, but then the forests and the landscape became livelier. It seemed brighter and adventurers saw a decrease in Hilichurls, and slimes, and even the Abyss Order stopped whatever they were doing to... dance? It was certainly a strange sight, but at least there was less activity where civilians were being harmed. In fact, this was being seen all around Teyvat thanks to the Adventure's Guild insight and informing each nation's current ruling governments and Archons.

The archons themselves felt a different presence. A presence they have felt once upon a time ago. The same could be said with a certain Court Judge of Fontaine, a certain fellow dressed in blue, his long platinum blond hair and stoic expressions, he definitely felt a power he thought wouldn't be seen again in all of Fontaine.

A being almost as old as Teyvat themselves, but nowhere as powerful as the one that gave them life.

Before he could even make a decision as tremendous as the one all nations must follow, he needed more information.

He needed to send out anyone to locate their Beloved Creator.

Neuvilette felt to go himself and search for Them, but he had his duties. He simply couldn't abandon them. He is a powerful figure in Fontaine and everyone would be suspicious of his actions if he were to leave his office. They would be asking questions.

No.

This needed to be done in an orderly fashion.

If they were indeed in Teyvat, they would appreciate a calm and happy welcome instead of chaotic and frantic for their faithful followers.

Himself included as he needed to prove he, and Fontaine, would welcome Them with open hearts.

The Divine Creator... has finally descended onto Teyvat once again.

---

LIYUE HARBOR, LIYUE

The trembling of the mountains. The color in front of him wherever he faced. The weather the past few days was beautiful and the people, especially merchants who traveled through treacherous waters to make it to Liyue were grateful for calm waters.

But he knew of the reason why everything seemed so... calm, so perfect as if Teyvat themselves was behaving its absolute best. Especially with word from other nations that the monsters and even the Abyss Order had ceased their attacks on villages and cities. They had seen these beings celebrate nonstop and were quite stumped about what was happening. But the former Geo Archon knew all too well...

Zhongli, better known as Morax or Rex Lapis, had felt it within the very rocks around him. As a devout believer and follower of the Divine Creator, he was quite familiar with the power and aura They possessed.

It's said that the Sovereign Dragons were the very first to proclaim their loyalty to the Divine Creator and when their time of rule ended, the Archons and Gods followed in their footsteps. As an Adepti in the form of a great Dragon, or Exuvia, he would be loyal to his beloved Creator, a form he greatly prided in thanks to the words of the Divine Creator many centuries ago.

But now they were here.

They have descended at long last like they promised.

His many years of patience and loyalty were finally being rewarded with the very presence of They themselves.

Zhongli, the devout follower he is, must find them. Were they alright? Yes, they were an all-powerful being, but recalling correctly, even the mighty have weaknesses and with the importance of the Divine Creator, there's always a danger no matter how beloved you are. He had to go himself to find him.

No.

He could ask the other Adepti to relentlessly search through all of Liyue, to leave no rock unturned and locate where their Grace may be.

---

ZAPOLYARNY PALACE, SNEZHNAYA

The days have gotten warmer and brighter in Snezhnaya.

What with the presence of the Divine Creator that is. It was all that the Fatui and even the citizens of Snezhnaya were talking about. There was nonstop activity in the palace as everyone scrambled to perfect it all for the Divine Creator.

You.

Though it wasn't as overwhelming since your nephew was right beside you, who happily took everything with stride and awe.

He even became attached to the very people that he spoke with on the first day here. And there was no way to separate them or to even have the heart to tell him not to speak with them since he took after his parents and family. Stubborn little nugget.

He especially favored Childe and Scaramouche. He was quite heartbroken when he left and never came back. But, he has been receiving gifts 'anonymously' once in a while.

Meanwhile, you spoke more with the rest to know more about this world. They all unanimously agreed that the mortal body you and your nephew both have currently is due to the fact of the long absence from Teyvat you had. Since your nephew hasn't set foot in Teyvat until now, it might take him longer to adjust to his birthright powers and titles. But he was nonetheless Heir of Teyvat.

The Little Prince.

"They're working really hard, aren't they?" His voice echoed in the halls as you and him were on their way to play outside yet again. He was still a child and with no video games around, it was good for him to be active. Childe once made comment about how strong he was and what a potential warrior your nephew could be with proper training. However, you had the last say and it was not yet time to think about that.

Snezhnaya is still a cold nation so even with Teyvat making it slightly less cold, you and your nephew had to bundle up. This is where Pantalone's gifts came in handy. While you were still bedridden due to your injuries, he called in all the tailors of Teyvat to create a wardrobe fit for you and your nephew: The Divine Creator and the Heir of Teyvat.

It was a sight to behold all the boxes and bags that arrived at the palace - clothing made from rare beasts and cloth. All for you and your nephew.

"If there's one thing you don't question about other people, Nugget. It's their beliefs. It has a certain power that a lot of people have yet to understand." You commented, stopping to adjust his personal Harbinger Coat. It was one of the few items Pantalone commissioned - with the Heir of Teyvat present, might as well commission a child-sized Harbinger Coat.

"I think Mister Pierro and Mister Pulcinella said something about that. I don't know... it's not our birthdays though. We're just people, aren't we?"

"I'm not certain either. We're a long way from home and it might be a while before we can go back. But don't worry, we're together and that's all that matters. All we have to do is-"

"Go with the flow?"

"Ah. I taught you so well." You laughed, quickly moving to playfully pinch his cheeks before resuming your brief walk outside. Everyone else had their duties and you didn't want to disturb them. They all seemed to be important in the political and military worlds.

That was something that kinda threw you off. Something like this world seemed like in the past. Like maybe 1800's innovative past since there were snipers and even giant mechanical machines that can move on their own or by being piloted. It was definitely fantasy - like a dream.

But even in a fantasy world, with aspects aimed at child entertainment, there is danger. Arlecchino and Columbina were telling you all about it with a brief history lesson and a bit of current information about Teyvat today. It was definitely something to think about if you plan to travel Teyvat with or without the Harbingers, especially with your nephew.

"Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise." The voice was ahead and looking up, you could see the masked man, the Doctor. Dottore was the one who ended up healing you from your injuries from the accident. They never did find the person responsible for your accident. Though they never will.

The healing process went smoothly and tended to you alongside your nephew.

"My nephew wanted to play outside again. He saw everyone was occupied and didn't wish to intrude so we thought we could walk for a bit."

"The Heir has no worries. If he or your Grace has a request, we're bound to stop and fulfill your wishes."

Your nephew didn't need to be told twice and quickly marched his way over to the blue-haired man, took his hand, and started walking to the exit to face another cold day.

"Doctor, please play with Auntie and I."

Dottore was quite the character. The others filled you in on what they have done and their opinions of each other. Dottore was the one with the most negative background but no one could deny the intelligence or genius in his mind. But to think this wasn't even his true form. The man was quite the genius that he made a number of clones of himself of each stage of his life. As a scientist, as a pursuer of knowledge, even the kind that's better left alone, he thirsted for it.

"Of course, Your Highness. Your Grace, would it be troubling to accompany you two?"

He also performed...some experiments that in this world were unethical, from what you heard. But...they weren't the worst. No, there was definitely worse. You weren't justifying what he had done, you weren't one to stand on a higher moral ground than anyone else, you at least attempted to understand why. That is exactly what you concluded when you decided to speak and interact with Dottore.

"Not at all. My nephew has grown attached to you and the others."

The walk outside didn't take long. It was short and slow to appreciate the snowfall and the area around. Various Cryo Crystalflies quickly flew their way to your nephew and he gave chase all while a variety of animals appeared and decided to play with the Heir. Teyvat knew the little Prince's love for animals. You made sure he didn't stray too far, your eyes never leaving his form while Dottore kept the same pace as you, taking a few glimpses at you every now and then. There was a small silence - but it was comfortable.

"Why?" You broke the silence and Dottore turned his head, his mask hiding any expression he could have made.

"Pardon?"

"The Fatui. Why was it formed? I want the truth." Your eyes still focused on your nephew who danced along with the Crystalflies, laughing and happily throwing snow in the air before then falling and making snow angels.

Your reason for asking is with who you two have been identified as, and with a seemingly unknown way of going back home, you two will probably be dragged into this world's politics. Before you get involved, you have to see what it is all about. Would it be worth it? Are you currently with evil people? Misunderstood people? What is their goal?

Would it be dangerous to involve your nephew?

"There is quite a lot that a mere moment is not enough to disclose the Tsaristas and our organization's goal."

"Then I shall listen. I hear talk and before I pass 'judgment', I want to understand. I hear talk of other gods, but the mere mention of them besides the Tsarista, it's with contempt."

Dottore, like many of his colleagues and subordinates, has heard the stories, the creation of Teyvat that was retold by the very dragons they created and had them oversee Teyvat. And then Celestia arrived. They had become power-hungry, drunk from the love and attention the Divine Creator gave to them before. When the creator left, Celestia took over and everything changed. Teyvat became different, peace wasn't an option.

Wars started, innocents perished...

Nations demolished.

"The Tsarista fell in love with the idea of how Teyvat was before you left. A Teyvat where all lived in peace. Then Celestia came. Thousands of years ago, they proclaimed that seven gods would be chosen to rule over one of the seven nations. From the thousands of Gods that fought, along with mortals who fought to survive another day, Seven were indeed chosen to represent their following element. But even for Celestia that was not enough. Your Grace was fond of a nation, Khan'ri'ah. Khan'ri'ah was a nation that ruled without the intervention of a God, an Archon. So.. one day, Celestia proclaimed Khan'ri'ah to be sinners, a nation that went against the Divine Creator and was thus destroyed. The Tsarista understood, her eyes opened to what was being done, and isolated herself, to find people who shared her opinions on Celestia and the Divine besides you, Your Grace."

That was just a brief summary that you recreated after your talk with Dottore. He was quite honest and with a few words, you were able to piece together everything. And to think he was kicked out of the Akademiya because of his practices and the murder of a fellow scholar.

This was clearly a case of the black-white-gray morality.

Things aren't always what they seem.

"Several weeks ago, I thought I was human. A mortal who lived a mundane life who loves her nephew like her own. I'm here and I'm told I'm the God that created your world, but I somehow have no recollection of it."

The walk continued as your nephew seemed to head further away from you and Dottore. Dottore was listening. He knew you weren't done talking and he couldn't wait to hear. Would he hear criticism of the divine from the very being who created it in the first place? What kind of wisdom would she bestow that may rival the God of Wisdom herself.

"Pierro and the Tsarista mentioned that my memories of such events and my divinity would come back to me slowly. Especially for my nephew. He's still young, curious but young."

"Your Grace, you need not fear. The Fatui, us, the Harbingers, will be by your side for we and The Tsarista are loyal to no other than you and the Heir."

"But what if I am not who you think I am?" You asked, looking down at your arms, remembering the injuries and the blood that oozed. You remembered the color and thought it wasn't proof enough, but the gold blood was there. You even requested to see the bloodied gauze that had a clear gold color. The sparkle it held, the amount of power that it had.

"Highly unlikely. Every man, woman, and child knows firsthand that the Divine Creator's blood is unlike any living being in Teyvat. Eyewitnesses from your first time here have written quite a bit of information of you. There is no mistake. The Tsarista would have been the first to know."

"Auntie! Doctor! Look!" Your nephew shouted and quickly ran to you, the heavy atmosphere dissipating as your nephew smiled, his hands cupped to hide what it was that he was bound to show you two. Slowly, he opened his hands and a small light blue glow appeared and in the blink of an eye, a small Cryo Crystalfly appeared and took flight, joining the other Cryo crystalflies that surrounded the three.

Creation of new life.

A power only found in the Divine.

What kind of world did she find herself in?

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno, @anonclyde, @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030, @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33, @nasidibakar, @yoriichi-second-wife, @lilybythevalley, @esthelily, @liansh3ng, @bubbles-lounge, @chidouna, @okecaiditmemay, @angelofdarkness2, @emmbny, @vxsire, @mmeatt, @fybfjn, @nickey-diano, @reende-29,

If I missed anyone, let me know! I tried tagging some people, but tumblr must be weird. I probably will be posting this on Ao3 too. Thank you so much for your kind words, everyone! I hope to write more!

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #Genshin impact cult au #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #dottore x reader #pierro x reader #pantalone x reader #sagau cult au #sagau reader

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intothegenshinworld · 2 months

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Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 13 || The heavens and us

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 3k+

Auteurs note: We ballin!!

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The people on the street are in a state of panic, and rightfully so.

In the not-so-far distance, it’s becoming more obvious that whatever went on between the Jade Chamber and the rising waves had affected Liyue Harbor in its entirety.

In between the mountains, the Jade Chamber lays in ruin. Even before hitting the ground, it has been fragmented into multiple chunks. And with no walls to keep all of its previous furniture inside, its contents litters throughout the paths in the surrounding area.

For a while longer, smoke surges from the wreckage—as the initial fall had set fire to the cloths and paper inside. Candles had been tossed over and caught whatever they could during the fall, burning all of the silk tapestries with the Creator’s face and history until it leaves nothing but dust in its wake.

The harbour doesn’t fare better under the destruction.

The people in the area have had enough time to evacuate, but the docking boats and multiple shops are flooded, destroyed by the large waves that came crashing down not too long ago.

ㅤ

Often when reaching this point, you’d find out that the Adepti and the Qixing assisted the newly reborn geo Archon with his task of protecting his city.

However, you will never find out why they are bound to fail.

Going south from Wangshu Inn, leads you through the Guili Plains once more. Your previous journey through this area had been relaxed, with little to none interactions from anyone aside from Lumine, Paimon, and Dainsleif. But with pandemonium reigning the nation ever since the Jade Chamber fell, you aren’t surprised to see the crowds grow thicker.

Around you, people are both leaving and heading towards Liyue Harbor. You aren’t certain why anyone would be going towards the city in its current state, but you assume it has to do with people believing in the geo Archon and seeking shelter in times of uncertainty.

Of course, you are part of the same group, but your reasons for heading towards Liyue Harbor are quite different.

Earlier, you had remembered an interaction with a certain someone who could give you clarity on the current situation.

"Call my name."

A hand holds yours in a gentle but firm hold. The workers in Wangshu Inn had been occupied well before sunrise, but the morning remained fresh. Rays of sunlight hit the side of Xiao’s face, bringing forward the teal streaks in his hair and a golden shimmer in his eyes.

His expression holds concern for something. You don’t ask him about it.

Xiao speaks again. His voice sounds clearer this time.

"Call my name if you need me."

You’ve spent more than enough time with Xiao to know that he would help you if you needed it. Like when he suspected the Fatui to be a danger, or when he teleported you away when the Jade Chamber fell down—he'd always been there for you.

Another reason for you to remember him was the fact that the Adeptus would be at the geo Archon’s side. If you called out his name, he could tell you what was going on in Liyue Harbor.

However, when you call out his name, he doesn’t answer.

“Xiao?” You say it again, this time a bit louder.

You’re unsure if you should be concerned about the silence that follows. He’s proven to be capable of handling many difficult situations but something within makes you feel uneasy at the lack of response.

The white haired pixie floats over to your side.

“Maybe he is busy? Whatever lights we saw flash out from the Jade Chamber during the fight, it had to have been elemental energy. Paimon thinks the Adepti might’ve helped during the battle.” Paimon turns away to face Lumine, who’s busy trying to keep the chaos at a distance from the three of you.

And as you follow your eyes in the outlander’s direction, a strangely familiar carriage flies by.

For a moment, your attention is captured. Instead of Lumine, your eyes are glued to the vehicle.

At first glance, it doesn’t look extraordinary. It has a simple wooden base with a white frame, made out of cloth, perched atop it, keeping the contents inside hidden. And as you look at it, you realise that instead of the carriage looking familiar to you, it’s the man with fiery red hair that chimes familiarity.

With a stern and concentrated look, he rides the horse that pulls the carriage along. The stranger’s red eyes are always focused in front of him to make sure no accidents were caused by the chaos on the roads.

And then his eyes move to you.

Your cloak should’ve been concealing you, but with the mass panic, you had assumed no one would be concerned about your resemblance to the creator. Everyone would’ve been distracted and no one should’ve noticed you. Unless they felt your aura.

So, did he?

The moment passes as quickly as it came, for the carriage nor the red haired man stops to confirm your suspicions. Instead, a small hand settles on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts once more.

With a smile, Paimon gently tugs the cloak down for you, and once she finishes, you return your mind to the current situation: Xiao being unresponsive as Liyue Harbor remains in shambles.

You frown, an expression that remains hidden since no one can see your face with the fabric casting a shadow over it. At last, you respond to Paimon. “Xiao might be busy, but that doesn’t help our current situation.”

Lumine looks at Paimon and then turns to you. She seems hesitant and takes a second to speak up. “Is the gnosis still working?”

Your eyes fall upon the orange rays escaping the fingers that encase the object. A soft hum of recognition is sent in response. “I think so. It’s been pulling me along towards Liyue Harbor.”

The outlander is silent for a second. Once she makes sure the crowds are safe, Lumine walks over to you. “Is there a chance that the geo Archon still has power over it?”

Confusion makes you stumble over your first words. “No. If he could, he would’ve told me or helped me with regaining my memories.”

Then, she explains her questions. “I think Paimon was right. It might be worth it to follow the gnosis’s pull for now.” Lumine looks at the gnosis before her eyes trail back to you. She continues to talk,

“Perhaps you did resonate with it. Your aura has been growing weaker ever since we left camp in the morning, so the gnosis might’ve been absorbing your aura so it can communicate.”

Indifferently, you nod. “Maybe. Either way, we should continue. The crowds don’t seem to calm down and we’ll never know the reasoning behind the gnosis’ activation if we stop now.”

A while back, when Paimon had expressed her theory about the gnosis needing to recognise your aura, you felt like you were one step closer to figuring out what you needed to do.

Somehow, that feeling of excitement and relief was now gone.

If you were honest with yourself, you’ve forgotten why your lost memories were supposed to be troublesome in the first place. If the geo Archon recognised you, wasn’t that enough? You are the Creator, after all.

But then again,

if you are Teyvat’s Creator,

where did you come from?

As you approach Liyue Harbor, an eerie absence invades the landscape that surrounds you. Not a single soul or creature is in sight—a stark contrast to the bustling roads you previously experienced. You halt to look at Lumine after you’ve observed the roads.

“Where did you think they went?” You ask.

She stops in her tracks. “The people?”

You nod.

“The people…” Lumine scans the empty streets. The treelines separating you from the wilderness of the Guili Plains are completely abandoned. No birds are flying in the sky and there are no tracks of anyone else having passed this area.

It is just you, her, and Paimon.

“I’m not sure,” she admits.

“Paimon knows!” Your white haired eagerly interjects. “The geo Archon must’ve evacuated them.”

Your grip tightens on the gnosis, its weight a reminder of the journey ahead.

A despondent expression settles onto your face as you caress the metal outlines separating you from the contained geo energy within. The godly object whines at your standstill, urging you to continue now that your destination is within reach.

Despite Paimon's optimism, a nagging doubt gnaws at your resolve. It might’ve been the pull from the gnosis, or the fact that you had no idea what just occurred, but you needed to move forward.

You hear soft footsteps move in your direction until Lumine stands next to you on the hill. Her eyes follow your gaze to Liyue Harbor.

From here, everything looks still. The smoke from between the mountains has calmed down and the waters are quiet. But however still it might look, destruction is evident the longer you look at the view in front of you.

Somehow, with Lumine by your side, you feel more confident. And despite her own destiny, time and time again, she has chosen to stand with you. It’s something you can’t properly appreciate because it means too much to you.

Your mind drifts to Dainsleif and your last interactions with him.

You feel bothered about his departure. Sure, there was something peculiar about him, something you couldn’t figure out, but he made you feel at home. Despite the time spent with him being sparse, it felt like you should’ve known him—as if you had met before.

His entire appearance and disappearance felt like a puzzle you can’t quite solve.

Why did he leave?

But with a more urgent mystery ahead, and things appearing to be more complicated as time passes, you decide to push him and your doubts aside to focus on the problem in front of you.

“Do you have any idea why those waves emerged?” You ask Lumine.

“No.” she moves her head sideways to look at you. Her blonde hair flies over her shoulders when a soft breeze passes you. She furrows her eyebrows slightly before they relax again. Her golden eyes shine in the golden hour. “I'm not sure. Do you think that the gnosis activating is connected to all of this?”

Without looking at it, you brush your finger over the object. Its gleam has turned into a beautiful golden colour, mirroring the sun and Lumine’s radiance, growing brighter the closer you get to Liyue Harbor. The small thing continues to be a mystery to seemingly everyone around you—even the geo Archon. Aside from saving Liyue Harbor, going back with the knowledge of knowing that you’ve potentially resonated with it…

Somehow everything seemed to be falling into place.

After a moment, you remove the cloak from your head. With ease, Lumine’s eyes find yours. “I’m not sure why, but the gnosis becomes intenser the closer we get. It must mean something , at the very least.” You respond.

Paimon chimes in from Lumine’s other side with an encouraging tone. “I’m sure we can uncover what happened in the city if we work together!”

The pixie’s smile is bright and infectious, a stark contrast to your doubt, and yet it never fails to make you feel more at ease.

Facing away from the view, you respond.

“Let’s continue. The journey won’t be long anymore.”

Somewhere between your last stop and the waypoint that’s on the hill before Liyue Harbor, the gnosis starts to freak out. The pulsations that it produces becomes less controlled— frenzied.

If you hadn’t felt its usually softer vibrations prior to this moment, you would’ve thought the shakes were coming from an earthquake. Unfortunately, you are familiar with this feeling and know something is about to go terribly wrong.

“Wait, we need to stop.” You stand with shaking legs upon the stone and dirt below your feet. These convulsions are not coming from the city, but your hand.

A second after you feel it, Lumine’s hands extend to her sides as she tries to balance herself. Her eyes are wide, before they dart around, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

You call out to her. “The gnosis, something is wrong!”

“What?” Her voice fades as the geo energy energy becomes louder. A buzzing sound gives you a headache. You watch Paimon lift her hands to her ears as she shakes in the air.

Again, you try to call out. “The gnosis!”

Lumine tries to reach her hand out towards you. While you were travelling, you and Paimon walked behind her. Conversing while she kept her eyes open for danger. Now, you regretted the distance between you and her.

You reach your free hand out to her, but then a deep rumble erupts followed by the ground shaking. Perhaps due to its suddenness, or the sheer power behind it, you stumble forward and then down. Your knees hit the ground first, and you brace yourself with your palms forward when the earth convulses again.

The air from your lungs forcefully escapes your lips when Paimon lands on your back right after. She is much smaller than you are, so it doesn’t damage you any further, but it gives you discomfort and more disorientation.

After a second of recovery, you pull your head up from the dirt.

A short distance separated from you, you see the gnosis lying between small pebbles and rocks on the ground. Its golden glow shines brighter than the twilight sky, and then it dims again to a soft orange glow, before it radiates the same liquid gold as before.

Something is wrong. Something is really really wrong.

Paimon is still recovering from her fall when you gather your arms below your chin. While the ground continues to shake with vigour, you’re able to get yourself up halfway with a push to your limbs, making the pixie on your back roll to the side and fall next to you.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Lumine down on the ground as well. She sits a few meters away from you with her hands stabilising her body at her sides. The outlander seems to have taken less of a fall than either you or Paimon did, so her agility must have aided her somehow.

Be that as it may, something is wrong with her too . Her eyes are fixated on the skies and she seems to be caught in a stupor.

Without the weight of a child on your back, you have free reign to move and grab the gnosis. You refocus your mind and you crawl over.

While the ground shaking below makes it harder to reach, it’s only a few arm-lengths away. Surprisingly, the object itself doesn’t seem affected by the vibrations. But perhaps that shouldn’t have been surprising at all, considering it was made out of pure geo energy.

You stretch your arm forward and fingers curl around the gnosis. Soft flesh touches the metal, and right as you’re about to close your hold, it dissipates.

Soft dust escapes your fingers and your eyes widen as your mouth falls open in disbelief.

It doesn't make sense. How can a gnosis suddenly disappear in front of you?

Your fingers grasp at the ground below, desperately trying to catch the pixels of what remains before the gnosis is fully gone.

A flicker of vulnerability flashes through your eyes. The gnosis was your only current lead but it’s now lost, leaving you with an empty feeling. Then, your eyebrows furrow together, trying with all your power to cling to your composure and fight the storm of frustration and disconsolation raging within.

You bite your lip when the corners of your mouth begin to tremble. With each passing moment, tension rises in your body, and then before you can break, Lumine grabs your arm and yanks you up.

“We need to run!” Lumine looks over her shoulder, and when you follow her gaze—you see it.

An elongated structure was descending from the heavens to the ground below. With it came a palpable tension that suffused the air, thickening it with each passing second. The massive silhouette of the nail-like stone loomed ominously against the twilight sky, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow Liyue Harbor whole.

As it continues to plummet, the ground below quivers beneath its impending impact, shaking in fear and anticipation of the cataclysm to come.

Lumine's grip tightens on your arm. Her urgency acts as a silent plea for swift action. With every step forward, the weight of what is to come presses down upon you, urging you to hasten your escape despite the burn on your knees.

Paimon too, is at your side. She flutters anxiously, her voice lost amidst the chaos as the world seems to hold its breath.

Then, a deafening roar that could shake the very foundations of Teyvat itself echoes through the area as the object strikes the ground with an unfathomable force. The impact reverberates through the air, sending shockwaves in all directions. Dust and debris rise up from the area of impact, obscuring the horizon in a shroud of darkness as the ground trembles beneath your feet.

Amid the chaos, time stands still. Flames writhe and twist amidst the smoke, painting the once blue and purple sky in hues of orange and red. Blow, the city succumbs to destruction. What once was a thriving and fortunate city, would be covered by dust before the end of the night.

In this moment, a dreadful realisation settles in.

Even if you had arrived in Liyue Harbor before this cataclysm, you never would've been able to protect its people— yourself .

Reality itself seems to shatter under the weight of the unfolding tragedy. The sky unravels before your eyes as black streaks shatter the world. With a desperate cry, Lumine's grip on your arm falters, her strength wavering against the soundwave that hits you.

As the world blurs into darkness, a sense of helplessness grips at your very being, forcing you to face whatever may come next even as the world breaks apart around you. And despite the destruction cradling your very being, a single voice stands out—,

ㅤ

“[Y/N].”

If you liked this chapter and think I deserve a comment, please leave one behind! I appreciate it a lot and it'll make me more motivated to write in the future ♡

#isegau #sagau #lumine x reader #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #isegau x reader #genshin impact x reader #sagau isekai #lumine #xiao #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #xiao x reader

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celiciaa · 3 months

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GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER ONE.

I just love you.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

special thanks to @otomehoneyybearr for proofreading! ♡

minors and ageless blogs dni.

One day, I was caught in a runaway carriage in town and lost my memory.

Gilbert: This is trouble. I never expected the little rabbit would forget about all our time together.

Gilbert: The coachman who caused this accident will be executed at once…

Gilbert: The main issue is this distance between us.

(….This is a nightmare.)

(I'm having a bad dream right now.)

I was working at the small bookstore in Rhodolite, the land of roses and art.

But for some reason, I woke up in the castle of Obsidian, an enemy nation of military and ore.

The unrealistic nightmare of being confronted by a handsome looking man with black hair and one eye from the royal family makes me feel dizzy.

(Why am I in Obsidian? And why is a member of the royal family approaching me?)

I rolled off the bed and ran to the wall but,

The man who introduced himself as Gilbert steadily closed the distance between us.

At first glance, he looked like he was smiling, but his blood-colored eye was not, which was simply terrifying.

(He’s the infamous Obsidianite royal family who must have killed many people so far—-)

(If I'm not careful, he could kill me too.)

Gilbert: Hmm, to be so frightened by the little rabbit who loved me so much...

Gilbert: I'm so shocked that I feel like I want to prepare a cage right away.

Walter: You idiot! Don't say that even if it is a joke!

Then, the man who claimed to be the royal physician, Mr. Walter, yelled so loudly that it made me flinch involuntarily.

Walter: You always think of imprisonment and execution whenever someone is in trouble.

Gilbert: I’m serious, you know? Once I confine the little rabbit, she can't escape.

(…)

Walter: Don't threaten the injured person. Look at how pale her face is.

Gilbert: Aah, sorry? I'm the kind and sweet villain to you, so if you don't like it, I'll stop.

Gilbert: But, you know what will happen if you keep acting like that...right?

(I might actually end up being trapped.)

It didn't seem like this was the right time to be afraid and try to escape from reality.

I fought the urge in my body to escape from Gilbert standing in front of me, and held my ground.

(First, I’ll assess the situation. If I can’t recall anything, I won’t know the right way to act.)

Emma: Why…am I in Obsidian?

Gilbert: Of course, because I brought you here.

Emma: But why a commoner like me….?

Gilbert: Because I’m the big villain who loves the little rabbit very much.

Emma: …Am I the little rabbit?

Gilbert: Yes, that's right. I love you.

(…I don't understand.)

But surely, I see my reflection captured in those seemingly indifferent red eye.

I felt his genuine feeling of love, and had no choice but to accept Gilbert’s words.

Emma: Can you tell me how I got here?

Gilbert: Sure, I'll spend the whole night telling you.

Gilbert: In bed.

(!?)

━━

(I never thought he would actually bring me to bed…)

After Mr. Walter finished treating me, I was led into a spacious room covered in black interior

I was intrigued by the shelves lined with many books that rivaled any bookstore,

Gilbert stopped in front of the bed and urged me to sit down.

(Perhaps this is Gilbert's room?)

(…I can imagine the consequences for not complying would be horrific.)

I tried to sit as far away from him as possible, but Gilbert mercilessly settled down close enough for our shoulders to touch.

I quickly gave up.

Gilbert: Now, let's start off with the fact that you were chosen as Belle.

━━

Gilbert: ——And so, you are now loved by me, the world's greatest villain, and we lived happily ever after.

(No, no, no….!)

(Wait, is what you just said true!?)

I was chosen as Belle to select the next king of Rhodolite,

Apparently, I caught Gilbert’s attention when he visited to participate in a social event,

And now he’s telling me that I’m his fiancée or something….

(This…has to be a lie.)

Gilbert: Let me tell you, I don't lie.

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Huh, you froze. Is it that hard to accept?

Emma: ….I don't think I'll ever be able to accept it.

(It's as if I've been told a grand story, and…it doesn't seem like it's my own.) // (It's as if I've been told a grand story, and…it doesn't feel like it's about me.)

Gilbert: I see. Then it can’t be helped if your mind rejects it.

Gilbert: But it’s possible that your body might remember.

Emma: What?

The corners of Gilbert’s mouth raised into a smile as he pushed my shoulders and laid me down on the sheets.

I could easily imagine what would happen next, and my blood ran cold.

Emma: Please stop!

Gilbert: Why? Didn't I just tell you that I'm your fiancé?

Gilbert: We used to do things like this quite often.

I feel his cold lips touch my ears and he bites down forcefully.

I winced in pain, and he lapped my skin with his tongue.

(This man...seriously…)

(But I don't know...it just feels weird.)

Even though I was being assaulted by a man who I barely know, I don’t feel any disgust at all.

It seems to be true that my body remembers.

Still, my heart couldn't keep up, so I pushed back against his chest, Gilbert bit my skin once more then pulled away.

Gilbert: Did you believe that? // Did you fall for that?

Emma: Was this a joke?

Gilbert: You’re injured.

Gilbert: If it weren't for that, I would have forced you to remember.

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Didn't I tell you? That I’m the kind and sweet villain to you.

Gilbert: I'll just have to remind you slowly. // I’ll make sure you remember slowly.

Gilbert: Even if you lost your memories, you can never escape from me…okay?

Gilbert combs my hair with his fingers and kisses me.

It was a gentle touch that conveyed love and affection.

(He's supposed to be scary, but...he really seems to love me.)

Why he fell in love with me was never mentioned in the conversation.

(I wonder if one day I'll be able to remember.)

(…I want to remember.)

━━

The next day, the confusion and agitation caused by the memory loss still lingered—-

Gilbert invited me to visit a quiet place full of plants.

Gilbert: ….

Emma: …..

(…There’s nothing to do.)

It felt like a laboratory, with equipment here I've never seen before and tags attached to plants. // The equipment I had never seen before and the tags attached to the plants looked like a laboratory.

(It doesn't seem like it...or maybe it really is.)

Gilbert is silently writing difficult formulas on a document.

It was somehow refreshing to me.

(I wonder if there's anything to do….)

As I looked around, carefully examining each item one by one, something caught my eye.

Emma: A rose…?

▸ [ next ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

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katie-luvr · 3 months

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🌸 Peach 🌸 ~ katie mccabe x reader

an ~ this is the first one! thank for your service @lessi-lover! love you lots 🫶🏻

(katie mccabe x arsenal!reader)

today marked the beginning of a new chapter in your career; your very first official training session as one of two latest signings to the arsenal women's team, fresh of the high after being dubbed as 'the one to watch' during the 2023 world cup.

just a few days prior when the documents had been signed formally at the grounds, you had been given the chance to meet up with a couple of your national teammates, a handful of them already signing for london clubs.

moving to arsenal just made sense. it was always red and white for you. you were dressed in the red london kit before you could even walk, and the fact that you already had so many teammates living in england just made it all the easier to pick up the pen and sign.

you truly felt like you were on the top of the world, signing for your day one club, it was truly the height of your career and you still had so much longer to go.

having a quick breakfast with two of your older teammates in town, you felt more than assured by their words that you and your other teammate kyra, were going to create an incredible impact towards winning more titles and trophies this year.

the girls explained to you that this season they wanted to use the new signings to create more depth in the squad, become a stronger team and create a more meaningful connection with the clubs fans, and overall keep their reign as one of the most prominent clubs in europe.

"you excited to meet the girls, peach?" the aussie forward asked you, as she scanned her eyes over the menu. "they can't wait to meet you, peach. i've already got beth and jen lining up to go house shopping with you next week!" the other aussie added, fiddling with the leash connected to her dog's collar.

"peach?" caitlin worriedly questioned, as she watched you zone out of the conversation. "off with the fairies again this one." steph giggled as she poured you a glass of water. "yeah. yeah, of course i'm excited." you answered, although the hesitation in your voice was hardly convincing.

"it's okay peach. every footballer no matter how talented would be nervous to move to one of the most esteemed clubs in all of europe." she bragged, patting your shoulder, as your eyes widened further.

"not helping!" steph scolded, jabbing the side of her teammates arm, as she leant over to place a more comforting hand on your shoulder. "anything you want to tell us peach?" caitlin said, now with a more understanding tone as she spoke. "nothing its stupid." you responded quickly, shifting your eyes downwards nervously. "hey nothing you ever think is stupid, peach."

"we're your teammates, your caretakers and most importantly your friends. you can tell us anything that's bothering you, okay?" her gaze supporting, her hand moving comfortably up and down your arm.

caitlin nodded in agreement beside her teammate, genuine concern in her eyes, as they both waited patiently for your response. "no, don't worry about it." you quickly interjected, waving off their concern with a forced smile. "i can manage on my own. really, I appreciate the concern, though."

"alright, peach," steph said with a gentle nod, a silent look towards your other teammate that you would speak again whenever you were ready to share. "just remember, we're here for you. no pressure, no rush. when you're ready, we've got your back."

"you excited? you excited? you excited?" echoed the relentless voice of a young australian in your ear, each sentence coming with a jab to the side of your arm. talking in the back of your teammates car, you found yourself staring nervously out the window, a pointless attempt to quiet your thoughts as they raced rapidly through your head.

turning towards the blonde, you gave her a deadpan look, "kyra cooney cross, what do you mean, 'am i excited', of course i am!" you mocked, poking your finger into her chest with every word.

you tried desperately to put on your signature fearless persona, however your voice betrayed you as you trembled out the last few words.

kyra having already been signed for at least three weeks now, awfully tried to console your nerves even hitting you with, "hey, if they don't like you, you can always move countries." this only made you feel even worse, and you let yourself sink into your car seat.

"oi, peach, ky, we're here." caitlin said as she turned off the car engine. taking a deep breath, you released all your nerves. steph opened the door from beneath your elbow, causing your body to fall backwards, almost completely onto the ground. a sharp chill ran through you, as a gust of wind brushed past your skin.

the london weather was already making you want to book the first flight home back to sunny australia. you brushed down your clothes, feeling steph pat the top of your freshly washed hair.

"hey, watch the hair, i need everything to be perfect today!" you said in a a stern voice as caitlin and kyra exchanged a glance over your shoulder. "peach your gonna be just fine, i'm telling ya, no ones gonna care if a few pieces of your hair are sticking out." caitlin assured you.

"your going to be just perfect." ~

now dressed in your new kit, you made your way over to the gym. as today was the start of the season, you had been told that these strength and conditioning sessions would be a primary part of your program for the next couple of weeks. the anticipation of the waiting season filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

walking out the changing room, you felt as if you were living in a dream, although the high slightly out of your reach. the sound of your sneakers slid against the floor of the hallway, your body swirling with different emotions. "you ready peach?" kyra asked, lifting her arm over your shoulder as you walked.

"is katie a nice person?" you responded frantically, as you and kyra made your way through the building. you bit the side of your mouth anxiously, nervous that kyra would only further prove your thoughts. "yeah. i've only known her for a couple of weeks, but she's really funny!" kyra answered enthusiastically. nodding her head, as she fixed her sleeves.

the last time you had encountered the irish girl was back in august at the world cup, australia versus ireland. you could say this game left quite the impression on you, even if you spent majority of the match on the bench.

the intensity of the game, the clash with your close friend katrina gorry, had you painting a picture in your mind that was hard to shake no matter how hard you tried to move on. although, hearing your best friends words of her fellow teammate, painted a picture in your head that was at odds with your expectations.

but before you could ask more about kyra's experience with the brunette, steph suddenly appeared next to you, a bright smile on her face. "some of my best mates are headed over to meet you!" the defender exclaimed in an excited voice, grinning from ear to ear.

the introduction of several of her teammates did nothing to calm the turmoil of feeling racing through your body. if anything, it only made your heart race further, and your excitement heighten. a group of girls made their way over to you, dressed in the training kit, their faces smiling.

as they drew closer, you felt your nerves settle, as each player kindly introduced themselves to you. "hey, you must be the one and only peach!" says a loud blonde, as she wraps her arms tightly around your body, engulfing you in a hug. "beffy don't scare her away!" a tall brunette said, her scottish accent shining through her words.

"it's so great to finally meet you! we have heard so many amazing things about you." a girl spoke, the number thirteen in bold on her top. you felt your cheeks heat up, the tips of your ears burning at the attention you were receiving from your new teammates.

a couple more girls made there way over, many of them familiar with you over the course of your world cup journey as you properly met a series of players from the swedish national team. then came the english girls; leah, alessia and lotte, before viv and laura also came introducing themselves and sending you a small welcoming wave.

moving into the gym, you completed a series of intense exercises, the gym alive with the sound of chatter, weights clanking on the ground, shouts of encouragement, and the collective huff of your teammates pushing their limits.

it was in the middle of an exercise, one in which you were paired with a very irish girl for a partner drill. the realisation that you hadn't introduced yourself to her hit you like a pile of heavy bricks, your mind short - circuiting and delaying your thoughts. you hadn't spoken directly to her, and of course it was your fate that partnered you with the one person you'd hoped to avoid.

as she walked over to you, you attempted to greet her, "heyyy... so im uh, umm-" you stuttered awkwardly, your face flushed a deep pink. "peach?" she finished off, voice laced with amusement. using your nickname, sending you a wink as she lifted weights onto the bar.

"so, why do they all call you peach?" she asked, her eyes filled with genuine curiosity as she lifted the bar with such ease. you felt the blush creep further up you face, almost spreading over your whole body. "its a long story but-." you mumbled, fingers fiddling together. "she just can't help it. she always blushing, so the aussie girls named her peach." caitlin interrupted you, giggling as she watched you redden once again.

the rest of the training session was what could be described as pure discomfort for you both, as katie tried desperately to keep the conversation going to fill the awkward silence you had created. the both of you moving around each other with such difficulty that you'd wished you just stayed completely still.

finally it was as if the trainer had heard your prayers, he rung the bell to signal that the session was over.

quickly you rushed on over to the water station, swiftly grabbing a clear water with your name bolded on it. "-want to come with the girls tonight?" as you twisted open the cap, a distinctive accent caught your attention. turning around with your bottle in hand, you were faced with your earlier partner, a hopeful look on her face.

"care to join the girls tonights? beth's organised a small get together at a quiet bar downtown." she asked, her words accented with her signature cocky grin, as she lifted her shirt upwards to wipe her sweating face.

the brunette had invited you to go for dinner with her and the team. your face lit up brightly, as a smile took over your face. "of course, wouldn't miss it." you responded eagerly.

it was in that moment that you finally felt complete. as if all your hard work to get into the team of your dreams had finally paid off. a feeling of belonging fluttered in your chest. "perfect. see you there, peach," she grinned.

you felt like a gunner, you felt like you fit in and you couldn't wait to prove yourself to your team.

"hey y/n!" you heard a voice call out from the carpark. turning around, you saw your teammate alessia, quickly hurrying out the door to catch you before you left. although, before the the blonde could reach you, she stumbled clumsily over the curb, landing flat on her face, her bag falling freely out of her arms and onto the pavement.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, rushing to her side to lift her to her feet, as she picked up all her things. "never better. are you coming tonight?" she asked urgently, a sense of anticipation in her voice. "yes, katie asked me a while back. i'll be there." you answered. smiling up at the tall girl, as you watched her break out into a cheeky smile that you couldn't quite place.

"can i come over? see the new house... and maybe.. i don't know.. pick your outfit?" she requested, but you missed the mischievous glint in her eyes that came with it. "alright less," you giggled, brushing a strand of your hair back.

driving your way through the busy streets, you handed alessia your phone, the blonde responding with a smile as she entered her number. "so how do you like london?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "london? it's incredible." you replied, letting your eyes rake over the various tall city buildings.

"the clubs, the players, the city, the buildings, the people, - it's amazing. it's exactly what i dreamed of."

the striker nodded at your words, her eyes sparkling with her shared agreement. "i know what you mean, it's as if the city never sleeps. i just have to show you some of the special spots around here." you chuckled, nodding your head that you would have to go out sightseeing eventually.

pulling up to your apartment, you guided alessia up the elevator and into your living room, a series of unpacked boxes littering your floors. "steph and cait were meant to come over to help me unpack, but they just spent their time with whiskers." you explained to the blonde, as she explored your house.

"whiskers?" she questions, her brows furrowing, as she tried to understand you. "whiskers!" you yelled out, your voice bouncing off the walls. "oh." you said contentedly, gesturing to a small grey cat curled up in the corner. "he's friendly, you can go up and say hello if you want." but you weren't even halfway through your sentence as the english girl raced over to greet him.

"hm. what about this one?" alessia asked holding up a sparkly dress with a hopeful expression. the striker having poured the entirety of your freshly organised wardrobe all throughout your bedroom, clothing and shoes littering the once clean floor.

"it's just dinner, less. i hardly think a tight black dress is casual enough." you chuckled, body flopping backwards onto you bed. "oh cmon! i'll even wear something similar! all the girls will wear them."

she tried to convince you, waving the small dress around in front of you face. "less.." you mumbled, frowning up at the standing blonde as she faced you. "oh please!" she begged, her mouth forming an upset pout, as she clutched the dress close to her chest.

"oh fine" you agreed begrudgingly, sighing as the striker smiled at you. rolling your eyes, as her face lit up in excitement, a cheeky grin plastered on her lips. "you're going to look amazing! we're going to have so much fun, i promise!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"blush, less?" you asked, gesturing to the light palette in your hands. "if you don't mind!" she answered, taking it from your hands with a wink. sitting down at the vanity, you both began to get ready, although you're sure you spent more time talking rather than anything else.

giggling over the blondes stories of her england camps, and your own, you both bonded over each others individual stories. "you just started choking?" you breathed out, laughter stuck in your throat, as alessia told you stories of her younger self, from when she was first called up to the U15 teams.

"and you wouldn't believe the looks i got when my own coach had to help me spit the meatball out! it was so humiliating!" she chuckled, her face flushed in embarrassment as she recounted the story. "only you could manage that, less." you giggled, the sides of your mouth turned up in a cheeky grin.

"only you could manage that!" she said cockily, continuing to apply a light amount of makeup to her face. "what do you mean, less?" you responded, brows furrowing inwards as you tried to understand the blonde's words.

"i mean only the one and only y/n could receive a follow from the devil herself you know." she answered, waving your phone in your face. you could see a notification at the bottom of your screen, 'katie_mccabe11 started following you.' you frowned at the message, although you quickly went to follow her back.

"you got the devil part right." you sighed, switching off your phone to rest beside your elbow. "she's coming tonight ya know." the striker nods, again the mischievous glint in her eyes appeared, which only spurred you on further.

"i know. she invited me actually." you confirmed, body turning to face her, as you caught her smirk in the mirror. "really?" she grinned, shaking her head, whilst you sat there confused. "didn't think she'd have the guts to ask you out!" the blonde laughed, her hand falling against her chin, smiling at herself.

"what do you mean, less?" you said, pushing away your makeup, as you tried to pull the distracted girl's attention towards yourself. "oh nothing. just that she has the biggest crush on you, like ever!" she blurted out.

"oh my god! you didn't hear that!" she said worriedly, her hands coming up to slap against your ears, a look of true regret in her eyes, as she tried desperately to make you unhear her words. "uhh." she mumbled anxiously.

"that didn't happen! none of this ever happend! i- uhm! i was never here!" she shouted, racing around your room to pick up her belongings, as she raced out the front door. your chest tightened, a familiar feeling settling in your chest that you couldn't quite place.

you felt a slight tinge of a real blush coat your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning at the blonde's confession. "no way." you whispered dismissively. katie rarely ever talked to you, and there was doubt in your mind that your friend was just making things up.

surely katie didn't actually like you?

#woso #woso community #arsenal women #kyra cooney cross #caitlin foord #steph catley #alessia russo #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe

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outsideratheart · 11 months

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Decisions, decisions (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Chapter 2 in the Legacy series

You wish you could say you had been able to put your departure from Ajax to the back of your mind as you prepared for and played the World Cup with The Netherlands. The team had made base in Paris for the last two games of the tournament. It was a city you had always found peace in whenever you visited.

So far The Netherlands had reached the semi finals after beating Japan in the round of 16 games thanks to two penalties from you and then you beat Italy in the quarter finals with goals coming from you and Viv. Most of the world hadn’t seen you play with you playing in the Dutch league but this tournament it seemed that everyone had eyes on you.

The semi final was something that you found incredible difficult. Madgalena Erikkson did a very good job at marking you, in fact you had less touches in that game that you had in any other game throughout the tournament. It didn’t matter though because Jackie managed to score in the 99th minute, a goal which you somehow assisted. It was a goal that would send you to the World Cup final. As you embraced the woman that had been stuck to your side the entire game, she whispered something in your ear that you didn’t expect.

You’ll make my job hard next season if you go to arsenal.

It wasn’t public knowledge that you planned on leaving Ajax. The fans had doubts every summer transfer window because they knew you deserved to play at a higher level but you never gave then any reason to think you were planning on leaving them.

A few days later the team had a day off and whilst you did spend the day with them, you were ready for some time to relax so you and Viv went back to the hotel with the promise that you will meet back up with the team later for some food.

A couple of hours later you no longer want to be alone so you to go to Viv’s room

“Are you ready for the final?” Viv asked as the two of you took refuge in her room.

The national team were your family but they could be a bit much sometimes and Viv shared your need for peace when things got too hectic. She could also tell something had been bothering you but she wasn’t one to push when you weren’t ready to talk about it.

When Viv gets only a hum in response she notices that you have your attention on the phone in your hands. It was obvious that whatever you were reading made you feel uneasy because your eyebrows furrowed, something that happens when you’re thinking deeply.

“Y/N” Viv’s words fall on deaf ears. It is only when she throws Flip at you do you look up at her before going into the bathroom.

Something was definitely wrong. Your eyes were glassed over.

There on your phone was the headline that sent your thoughts running a hundred miles an hour and led you chest to feel like it was being weighed down by an anvil.

JOHAN CRUYFF’S DAUGHTER TO FOLLOW IN HER FATHER’S FOOTSTEPS. WILL SHE SHINE BRIGHT OR SETTLE IN HIS SHADOW?

Viv knew the struggles you had been facing and whilst Barcelona was a dream she knew you had been struggling with thought of being in a city that held such strong memories of your father.

There was a sense of betrayal in your gut. You wasn’t sure if it was someone within your management team, Barcelona or Arsenal but now the world was talking when you wanted this topic to remain silent.

When you re entered the bedroom it felt smaller than before. Viv didn’t know what to say and within seconds her decision to comfort you is taken away from her because Danielle and Lieke come barging in. Both of them, oblivious to what they were walking into, make it clear that you are to rejoin the team. Viv tries to tell them that you aren’t feeling it but you cut her off.

“Actually I have somewhere else to be but it’s on the way so I’ll walk with you”

The three Dutch women give you a shared look. You didn’t have any media or appearances because today was the mandatory day off so where could you possibly be going.

The four of you walk along the streets of Paris for twenty minutes before you bid your farewells. Viv and Danielle didn’t know the significance of the hotel you were stopping at but Lieke did.

“This is where some of the Spain girls are staying. Are you going to see anyone in particular?” Lieke knew this is where some of her friends are staying. Their World Cup journey may have been over but they were still football fans and they wanted to support their club team mate in what could be one the biggest games of her career. Lieke of course thought there could be other reasons but whenever she brought it up she got shut down very quickly.

“A friend” you reply was short and gave very little away.

It wasn’t a lie. You were going to see a friend, you just wasn’t stating which Spanish player you were going to see. Whilst Danielle had your attention, Viv told Lieke about the article that had changed your mood drastically. Your best friend has a feeling who you were going to see given that you had kept very close eyes on a certain Catalonian during the tournament and said woman had been pestering her for your phone number but she didn’t want to get involved. Lieke knew she would have to let this play out organically even if it would be painful to watch.

It’s save to say Lieke had to do a double take when she saw a group of familiar faces walk past her.

“Lieke!”

“Alexia”

She wasn’t who Lieke expected to see on the streets of Paris. If Alexia was here who had you gone to see at their hotel. It is pure coincidence that her club team mates were on their way to a restaurant close to hers so they walk together.

“I saw the article. How is she?”

Alexia had put herself in a difficult position. She wanted to be your team mate but given her own loss she wanted to make sure you were ok. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have strangers constantly remind you of the person you have lost.

“That depends on why you’re asking. Do you want to know because part of you cares or because you want to know her decision?”

The brunette regretted the way she interrogated you that night is Barcelona. Even though you offered her a fresh start, she hated to think that you saw her as Joan Laporta’s spy. Even if you didn’t sign for Barcelona she hoped that you could be friends.

“Lieke, I told you I’m sorry for what I did in barcelona and to answer your question, I’m asking because well, because I care about her. she—“

“Ale are you talking about Y/N again” Mapi comes out of nowhere “You know if you like her then you should ask her out. Don’t pry Lieke for information”

“That’s not what I’m doing” Flush floods Alexia’s cheeks.

“Y/N’s ok, I think” Lieke ignores Mapi’s teasing and answers Alexia’s question “She‘s actually at your hotel. I thought you might have been going to see you but you’re here”

Alexia wonders why your best friend thought you would be with her?

“Why would she have come to see me?”

“Alexia you are Barcelona and between you and me, I think she is leaning towards joining us. You also know the pain she feels on a daily basis”

Alexia rarely spoke about her father but the loss was known within the team.

“I would be there for her” she barely knew you but this much she was certain on.

“I know you would”

Meanwhile you sat in the lobby of a hotel you had no right to be in. You needed to speak to someone that knew you but that you didn’t have any responsibilities with, at least not yet. You had kept in contact throughout the competition, both been the outside perspective that the other one needed.

Now you had to remember which room she was in and pray that you don’t rub into any of her team mates. You wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.

401, 402, 404 and then 405, her room. You knock quietly hoping not to interrupt anything or risk waking her up if for some reason she is asleep. After knocking for the third time with no answer you take it as a sign that you showing up uninvited wasn’t a good idea. When you are half way down the hallway you hear the door opening.

“Y/N is that you?” The Spanish accent is thick but easily understandable.

“I was just leaving, sorry to bother you”

“Don’t be silly, come in”

“Thank you Tana”

It felt strange to be in her hotel room and you didn’t know where you should sit so you choose to stand against the TV unit.

Both of you wait for the other to speak which leads to silence. It’s not exactly comfortable but it’s not awkward either. A few seconds pass and both of you start laughing to fill the empty space.

“It got out”

“I saw. Are you going to say anything” Aitana asks and she gets a shake of a head in response.

“I just want to play football. It’s all i‘ve ever wanted and now I’m a story”

The small Catalonian hands you a bottle of water out of the mini fridge.

“Can I ask you a question as friend and not as a player?” You ask her.

“You mean a player who plays for Barca?” The look she receives gives her the answer “Right now I’m your friend”

“Before I start I want you to know that I haven’t made up my mind yet but if I were to sign for Barcelona would they be able to get over my last name?”

Your team mates up until now had always let you be your own person. Ajax and the National team meant a lot to your father but you were never compared to him within the team. One of the reasons why is because they met him. The got to know Johan the supportive father but in Barcelona they only knew or knew of Johan Cruyff the legend, the man who invented Barcelona football.

“Your last name means something to the club and the team. If you sign for Barcelona you will become a part of our family. Some of the girls may freak out at the beginning. They will ask you questions about him but they mean nothing by it”

“You didn’t. I’ve known you for a few years now and you never asked about him even though I know you are a huge fan. You wear his number for god’s sake”

“I am huge fan of your fathers but when Barcelona first asked me to work with the foundation and work with you, that is what really excited me. I am a Y/N Cruyff fan first and a Johan Cruyff fan second”

“That’s not true” you laugh at her effort to make you feel better.

“It’s an even tie. I guess what I’m trying to say is I got to you know you as a person. At the minute the girls don’t know you like I do but once they do I promise they won’t see you for your last name”

“Ok”

“Ok? So does that mean you’re coming to Barca?” The young midfielder couldn’t help herself. She wanted you to come to the team for more reasons than one.

“Nice try. I have a few weeks to make my decision”

Not wanting to overstay your welcome given that you weren’t invited in the first place, you thank Aitana for listening before bidding her farewell.

“We are going to Ibiza after the final. If you want to you could join us and get to know your my team mates you know just in case you join us. Feel free to invite some of your friends too”

“I just might take you up on that offer Aitana. Thank you again. I’ll see you in a few days, maybe”

“Good luck for the final”

If only her well wishes worked. The Netherlands end up losing 2-0 in the final against the United States. It was a heart breaking loss but you chose to focus on what you could learn from the game and be proud of the fact that you made the World Cup final in the first place. It would hurt for a while but you could think of worse places to wallow than in Ibiza with your closest friends and those that could soon be your new team mates.

#legacy series #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #Barcelona femeni one shot #Barcelona femeni imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

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orcelito · 1 year

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HELLO??? TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION???? BRO????

#speculation nation #trigun spoilers/#I GUESS???#im only on chapter 34 of trimax man i dont KNOW this shit #also blindsided by the fact that there are two more independent plants coming around #I MEAN i did rewatch ep 12 of tristamp today & at the end it mentions an 'independent' and i was like 'oh huh'#independent Chronica. geeze i really need to read more trimax huh #also MR VASH SIR. TELEPATHY??????????????#is this like the shit that happened with Legato??? i mean that was weird but i just figured it was Legato doing his shit #Vash has never shown telepathic abilities outside of that. besides like. plant shit ykno #head in my hands. this is actually pretty relevant to the next thing im writing. do i need to read more of trimax b4 i can continue???#god this is so unhelpful. what do you MEAN he has telepathy??? mr vash the stampede sir. what the fuck do you MEAN #djflsdkfj maybe i can make some more progress on trimax instead of reading the wiki and going '?!?!?!?!'. obviously i need it

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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fingerprints | 9 | todoroki x reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 3.9k of 38k words | 9th of 9 chapters

summary: When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.

tags/warnings: romance, soulmate au, fluff, pining, not actually unrequited love, aged up characters, eventual smut

fic masterlist

“Momo!” An enthusiastic cry went up from the Class A table.

You watched, a tiny thrill of anticipation zinging down your spine, as Momo smiled and approached your hightop. She was even prettier in person, her dark hair shiny and her features so prim and pert. Even her movements were charismatic and sure.

Mina shoved over to make room between herself and Jirou, and Momo gracefully perched on the stool, accepting the drink Jirou had apparently had waiting for her. Like Shouto, Momo was also treated to a round of fist-bumps which she returned with a soft smile and perfectly manicured hands.

Chatter quickly resumed all around you, Kaminari seizing your attention to show you a trick where he opened his beer with his forearm, looking pleased with himself. Then Shouto wanted to try, and your heart rate ticked up as he shrugged off his sweater in favor of the gray tee shirt beneath, his biceps cording with the movement.

You swallowed your own drink wrong, and Mina had to pat you on the back as you coughed, smirking knowingly. Your eyes briefly met Momo’s as you looked back, and she waved, a dainty little swoop of her fingers.

It took a few minutes for Shouto to learn the trick, as he didn’t seem to have enough fat on his forearm to manage it neatly, and had to push the bottle against the muscle a little more firmly. Once he had managed the cap twist perfectly, however, he presented you with the beer proudly, and you grinned at him.

Those mismatched eyes glittered in the dim light of the bar, dipping to your mouth as you took a sip. Heat pooled low in your stomach as he leaned in, watching you carefully.

You were somewhat startled to notice that his gaze was fixed solely on you, as though he had no thought for anyone else in the room. You realized, quite belatedly, that other than a nod at Momo as she approached, Shouto hadn’t shown any specific reaction.

In fact, come to think of it, no one had seemed to assume that Momo’s place would be by Shouto’s side when she came in. And Shouto had gone right back to opening a beer bottle for you, watching you drink it, looking like he wanted some reaction from you.

You again had the thought that he was unlike anyone else–so watchful, so kind, so unbelievably good down to his core. So unbelievably good to you, down to the smallest thing. He was your soulmate—yours, and he had tried so hard to keep you in his life ever since you had first met. Had dedicated so much of his time and attention to you since then, had made you feel so precious, special, cherished.

Despite all the shit people were saying on twitter, despite the fact that the entire world was on the verge of finding you out for sure. He had never cared. There was only one person he had ever made you feel like he cared for—

And suddenly, just like that, in a tiny, nothing moment, with Shouto’s eyes on you in a dimly lit dive bar–you realized.

Shouto had never been Momo’s.

Shouto had never been anyone else’s. Not in the permanent sense.

Shouto had chased after you. Shouto had been spending all his time with you. Shouto had bought you an entire animal rescue, and was even now sponsoring its refurbishment with miles and miles of security apparatus.

Todoroki Shouto had always, always been yours. And the reaction of his skin to your touch proved it, more definitively than anything.

And you had been so fucking stupid this whole time.

“Are you alright, love?” Shouto asked in his low, soft tone, and you blinked up at him, realizing you’d paused over your next sip.

His face was so stupidly perfect up close, his lashes so long and pretty, his mouth so soft and full. In the dim light, the edges of his scar were softened, a dusky pink against the rest of his skin. You’d always wondered if that part of him would react to your touch too. Before you even realized what you were doing, you reached up and gently pressed your thumb just under his eye.

Color bloomed under the pad of your finger, and Shouto blinked curiously, his fingers coming up to take your hand. Color blossomed under his touch too, staining your skin like watercolor.

You could have leaned in and kissed him right then, but something held you in place.

When you chose him, for the first time, you wanted it to be just between you two. Just for a few moments. Because the entire world would find out as soon as the Todoroki Agency made its statement, only a few days from now.

But you wanted this one thing to be just yours at first–the way Shouto was. No one else’s but yours.

You shot Shouto a grin and finished the beer he’d given you, telling him it tasted better for the cool factor his trick had put into it. You stifled a laugh as he tried not to look smug, and wondered how you could have ever, even for a minute, doubted Shouto’s feelings for you.

The rest of the evening was a blur, a haze of rowdy chatter and a rapidly escalating competition of drinking tricks. Pro heroes could apparently put away a ton of alcohol, and couldn’t resist showboating as they did so. You felt yourself grinning ear to ear, and then found those ears flushing with heat when Shouto’s hand found your hip as he watched his classmates get sillier alongside you.

Fetching your final drink of the evening–just regular soda water, considering you wanted to be clear headed enough to talk to Shouto when you got home–you ran into Momo at the bar.

She leaned in immediately, pulling you into a hug that felt like cashmere and smelled like some light, expensive perfume.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since Shouto first showed up at our agency looking for you,” she said, a little bit of a flush on her cheeks. “I know we haven’t met formally but I feel like I know so much about you already.”

You smiled up at her. “Same to you. Shouto’s told me a lot.” Then you paused, curious about what she’d just meant. “Wait, he showed up at your agency looking for me?”

Momo blinked, then looked embarrassed. “Oh! Yes. Um, I hope you don’t mind. Jirou and I run our own agency and her quirk has to do with sound, you know.”

You nodded, curious where this was going. “Well, she’s excellent at long-range intel gathering and we’ve shaped the agency largely around that. We have a lot of heroes with quirks useful for that kind of thing, and civilian employees who specialize in data-gathering techniques as well,” Momo said. She sounded a little proud. “Um, so when Shouto needed to find you…well…”

A smile crept across your mouth. You remembered all those months ago when Shouto had neatly dodged the question of how he’d found you. “A friend ran video footage,” he’d said evasively.

So Momo had been a friend–the friend–all along.

He must have gone straight to her after the rescue, considering he’d shown up in your animal shelter the very next day. And that itself was a dead giveaway.

God, how could you have ever believed he didn’t want you?

“I will never be able to convey how grateful I am that you helped him find me,” you told Momo sincerely. “But, um, I’d love to buy you a drink as a symbol of my thanks.”

She flushed prettily again, but accepted, and you managed to obtain her drink of choice–an unexpectedly no-frills whiskey on the rocks. You would have to remember that for future nights out. There would never be any amount of drinks that could truly give back to her what she’d helped give you, but you could at least try.

After a little more idle chatter, Jirou came looking for Momo, and you thought you understood things even more clearly when you saw Jirou’s tiny, fine-boned hand slide possessively around Momo’s waist. And then you felt a much larger hand touch yours, and you turned to find Shouto lingering over you, watching you carefully.

And you knew, right then, that you couldn’t wait to tell him any longer.

“Hey,” you said in greeting, feeling pleased and bold and shivery with nerves all at once. “Wanna get out of here? I have something I wanna tell you when we get back.”

Shouto blinked, clearly mystified, but murmured his assent. You collected your coats and bade goodbye to everyone and then started the trek back to Shouto’s place, the night air cool on your skin.

“I like your friends,” you told him as you walked. “They’re good people.”

Shouto’s smile was small and pleased and toe-curlingly charming. “I have no doubt they liked you as well.”

“They just like that I made an idiot of myself on national television,” you said. “They like that I gave you a hard time.”

Shouto politely did not mention how prolonged that hard time had been, given that you’d actually been misunderstanding him for months. He told you instead about all the times Class A had made idiots of themselves on national television too, murmuring stories about their first sports festival in his hypnotically low voice as if to calm and reassure you.

You liked him so much.

When you finally made it through Shouto’s door, and Shouto had replenished Princess’s food and water, you knew it was time to tell him for real.

You drew in a nervous breath, then stepped close to him. “I think…I have decided what I want the Todoroki Agency statement to be,” you said.

Shouto’s mismatched eyes went wide, and you watched as he schooled his features into that classically blank expression, as if he did not want to influence you.

He was so, so, so unbearably good.

You had planned to say more but all of it was lost in that moment as you watched him wait for you, watched him try not to push you. It was what he’d been doing this entire time, you realized. Making his intentions clear, giving you everything he possibly could of himself, but never, ever pushing you into something you did not think you were ready for. Like he’d waited for you that day outside your apartment, holding still, letting you make the final move.

You were finally feeling bold enough to do it.

You leaned up, and, heart in your throat, you pressed your mouth to his.

And it was like the entire world snapped into alignment.

You didn’t know how else to describe it. As soon as your mouth met his, it felt like everything was finally right, a wave of something like relief washing over you. Shouto shuddered like he felt it too, and then his hand came up to catch your chin, cradling your cheek.

He kissed you back fervently–scorching one moment and tender the next. He tasted like the sweet fruit and soft tang of his drinks, sugary and delicious. An electric warmth lit you up inside, roiling in your stomach, every single one of your nerves buzzing.

His other arm came around you, gathering you against him, pressing you tightly to him. You clung to him, desperate.

It was a long time before he let you go, and you clutched the collar of his jacket, feeling a little weak-kneed.

“I hope–” Shouto started, sounding a little dazed. He blinked down at you, then tried again. “I hope that was not a farewell…”

You shook your head, gripping his coat even tighter. “No. No–Shouto, I am in love with you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get my head out of my butt. I have had the most insane crush on you since the second I met you, and I’ve only fallen deeper the more I’ve gotten to know you. I could never, ever give you up for anything—not my privacy–nothing. I choose you.”

The most stunningly gorgeous smile you had ever seen broke out across Shouto’s mouth, luminous in its delight. “You choose me,” he echoed quietly, as if to himself.

Your heart did a weird flip in your chest at how utterly and insensibly handsome he was in his happiness.

You smiled back, feeling giddy. “Yeah. You’re my soulmate.”

Shouto’s fingers tightened on your chin, and then he was tilting your face back up to his and slotting his mouth against yours once more. It quieted every single word in your head, all the months of self-doubt, the stupid shit people had been saying about you online, the worry about what people would say in the future. All you knew, all you could think of, all you could feel was Shouto’s body pressed against yours, Shouto’s mouth over yours, Shouto’s breath filling your lungs–Shouto, Shouto, Shouto.

His thumb traced over your cheek, and Shouto pulled back, watching the motion of the pad across your skin, doubtlessly tracking the streak of color left behind. “Mine,” he said, more than a little smugly.

It startled a laugh out of you, the childish straightforwardness of it. You supposed he was allowed now, considering he’d behaved so carefully, so gentlemanly all throughout the previous months.

“All yours,” you promised.

Shouto seemed to like the sound of that very much. You heard your jacket being unzipped and suddenly it was being tugged off of you.

Shouto’s mouth found its way to your throat, and his fingers crept up under the hem of your shirt, sliding over the bare skin of your waist. “Y/N,” he breathed. “I almost thought I might never have this. I want to see you, all of you…” All of what’s mine, went unsaid.

You nodded, dizzy with the feeling of his mouth in the hollow of your neck. “Yes–I–me too—want to see you…”

You barely managed to scrape together enough brain cells to successfully pull your shirt off, and Shouto let out a low, appreciative groan, guiding you back to the wall with his hands. You watched as he stared at you, dragging his hands over you. Shivers wracked you at the sight of his dilated pupils following the streaks of color left by his fingers, like he could barely control himself over the thought that you were his.

He really, really wanted you.

Shouto’s mouth back on yours distracted you from thinking much more. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed himself against you, shuddering when you felt his hardness press against your stomach.

His hands came under your thighs, boosting you up against him, and then that hardness was slotting right between your thighs, exactly where you wanted him. Your head made a dull thud against the wall as you threw it back, Shouto’s hips hitching to grind himself harder against you. His breath came harsh in your mouth, and you realized you were no better, letting out little puffs of air, squirming against him.

“Shouto,” you managed between kissed, “Shouto, I want—I want—”

“Yes, love,” Shouto said, even as his hand pressed down against your hip, grinding you harder into him. He let out a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering closed.

“I want you, please—” You gasped, accidentally digging your nails into the meat of his shoulder as another cant of his hips pressed him firmly but indirectly to your clit through the fabric of your pants. “Shouto, Shouto, please—more—”

“Anything you want, love,” he said. “I will give you everything.” And then suddenly he was stepping back, and you mourned the loss of heat against you, frowning.

Before you could get a word in, however, he was dropping to his knees, in front of you, tugging down your pants. Your hands seized his shoulders as he took one of your calves in hand, gently helping you step out of them, pulling your leg over one broad shoulder. He pressed a fluttering kiss to your stomach, and then your hip, and then lower, and lower, and lower, until his fingers were pulling aside your panties, and his mouth pressed directly to you.

Your head made another dull thunk against the wall as you threw it back. This is not what you had meant—!

“Fuck–oh my god—Sho–!”

Shouto groaned deeply, then licked over you more firmly. “Yes, pet?” he murmured, before doing it again.

You produced an embarrassing little squealing noise in place of words. You could feel his mouth shift into a smile against you, which was so weirdly hot, and then he went back to work on you, murmuring his appreciation.

His grip on you was firm, holding you in place as you shook with each delicate suck, each curl and swipe of his tongue. When you finally managed to look down at him, those heterochromatic eyes were staring back, drinking you in carefully, sliding over every spot his fingerprints had left his mark on you. The sight of him so wrapped up in you pushed you right over the edge, and he licked you right through your first orgasm, looking so utterly wrecked himself.

You didn’t have a single second to recover before Shouto was surging up, covering your mouth with his again. He caught you by the waist, and herded you urgently towards the couch, his mouth never leaving yours for a second.

You spilled over the side of it, Shouto’s heavy weight bearing you down to the cushions. You practically tore your panties off and fumbled with his belt, desperate to get Shouto inside you. He seemed to know instinctively what you wanted, slotting himself between your thighs.

His cock was predictably just as gorgeous as the rest of him, long and full, and he slid inside you with a low groan, fisting the cushion beside your head.

“Fuck, love,” he uttered, those long, pretty eyelashes fluttering. The sight of him so instantly undone–the furrow of his brow, and the almost-pained twist to his mouth–almost sent you right over the edge again.

He bucked his hips again, burying himself deeper inside you, and launched into an almost desperate pace, like he couldn’t bear to slow down now that he had you. You didn’t know what it was–if it was the fact that he was your soulmate, or if it was just the fact that he was Shouto–but he fit so right within you that you thought you might be driven insane with the feeling.

He held himself up over you with one hand, and the other dragged over every part of you, cupping your face, thumb sliding across your mouth, then slipping down to circle a nipple. You could see the fingerprints left all across your skin, and Shouto’s eyes seemed torn between your face and those bold streaks of color.

Shouto’s mouth only added to things–he was keeping up a stream of praise in that low tone, rough with feeling. “Fuck, love—that’s it. So good, you’re so perfect. Made for me, like we were made for each other. Mine, you’re mine.”

You could only pant out his name in return, writhing underneath him with every expert twist of his hips. “Yes, Shouto, please–!”

“Wanted you–from the very first minute I saw you—” he groaned. “Want you forever—”

The praise, coupled with the slap of his hips against you, the slide of him inside you immediately became too much.

Something inside you seized up, and you were thrown straight back over the edge, biting off a shout into the muscle of Shouto’s shoulder. The clenching of you around him made him groan, and he picked up, his thrusts became faster and looser, like he was losing control. He reached up, pressing his hand high on your chest, leaving a full set of fingerprints on you like a brand over your heart.

And then he was cumming too, flooding your insides, his hips jerking against yours uncontrollably.

You clung to him, sweaty and flushed and so unbearably full of love for him. He smiled down at you, that charming, half-moon grin, looking so incredibly smug and deeply pleased all at once.

“Did you really want me from the first minute you saw me?” you asked curiously, unable to help yourself now that everything was finally, finally on the table.

Shouto nodded, his hair falling into his eyes as he adjusted himself over you, leaning back on his haunches, pulling himself out of you. “Even before you left your fingerprints on me,” he said. “When I saw you–even though you were less injured than the others, it was like all I could focus on was getting you out of there. I had to force myself to prioritize the way I was trained.”

You blinked, feeling strangely flustered. “Really?”

His smile went charmingly crooked. “Like that, do you, love?”

You could practically feel your face fill with heat thermometer-style, like a cartoon character. “I just–to think we could have had this sooner, if I hadn’t been so stupid.”

“Yes,” Shouto agreed, and you tried not to pout.

“In fairness, you never made any moves on me!” you said.

Shouto’s eyes flickered over you assessingly, and he smoothed back some of your hair away from your face. “I was waiting for you to choose me,” he said calmly. “I know what it is to be the family of a pro hero–what it is to not have a choice about being publicly known.”

You warmed at the mention of family. “I’d pick you whatever the circumstances, Shouto,” you said, giddy with the boldness of actually voicing it out loud.

He leaned back in and took your mouth again, a kiss which grew rapidly more interested as Shouto laid himself out over you once more, his fingers sliding into your hair.

Except, as he did, there was a slight rush of air over you, and a light patter along the top of the couch.

You peeked an eye open to see Princess looming over the two of you, looking extremely put out with the goings on in her domain. You sputtered out a laugh as Shouto looked up too, his expression embarrassed and fond at all once.

“We’ve disturbed her majesty,” you said.

Shouto huffed out a small laugh, then gathered you up his arms. You suppressed a squeal, watching as Princess suddenly grew much farther away.

“We will have to take this elsewhere,” Shouto said, carrying you into his bedroom and shouldering the door closed. “As I’m not finished with you yet, love. We have many months to make up for, as you’ve said.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you as he deposited you onto his sheets, climbing over you once again, looking so handsome and mischievous and perfectly yours.

“I’m going to leave my fingerprints all over you,” you promised, leaning up and kissing him again.

“I have wanted nothing more,” Shouto said, smiling into your mouth.

And then you did—you marked him so thoroughly as your soulmate, the way you should have done from that very first day.

And Shouto let you, looking pleased—yours, as he always had been.

#todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha x reader #shoto x you #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki x you #todoroki smut #todoroki x y/n #shoto x y/n #bnha x you

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scaredpigeons · 4 months

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Aqua Regia II: putting down the roses, picking up the sword.

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

You get settled into your new position, but are you really.. settled? You realize something a bit embarrassing about your new boss too, best keep that one to yourself.

Authors note: this is where we get the slightest bit suggestive. I just cant help myself. HES A DRAGON COME ONNNN

The first thing Neuvillette notices is that his office is startlingly tidy.

Now, he is not a slob by any means, and he prides himself in that fact— but since taking over Lady Furinas responsibilities, he’s found that keeping things as organized as he used to had become increasingly more difficult as the days went on.

He rounded his desk, sitting down with wide eyes as he looked around at the new organizational structure of his desk.

There is an incoming and outgoing bin on either side of his desk, filing folders clearly indicating which documents each folder holds, there's even a fresh pot of ink, and brand new pens placed neatly in an elegant holder. Across the room, against the wall in his direct line of sight is a very large calendar, Large print outlining each day's primary tasks.

As he’s gawking at the lack of clutter, you waltz in, just as lovely as before, and he finds himself staring at you a bit more openly, though your gaze is trained upon the tray holding his favorite tea set, and a few bottles of clear liquid that he knows is fresh water, straight from the cooler.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Neuvillette, I hope you had a pleasant evening.”

He nods as you set the tray down on his desk, carefully placing his teacup and saucer down in front of him.

“Honey lemon, for your tea this morning.” You set the bottles down to the left of him, removing the tray to a vacant table as you continue speaking. “You have two meetings this morning, firstly with Madame Petra Voleange, who wishes to discuss the accommodations you spoke of for her son who was sentenced to the fortress last week— the young man in the wheelchair who was picking pockets.”

You handed him a folder, which was clearly labeled and neatly sorted. “I spoke with the Duke, and this is all the information on what can be provided. Your second meeting is with Kemia, a researcher from Sumeru who wishes to gain your permission to gather information on local flora to aid in her botanical medicine research. The information she provided when booking should be in the top left hand drawer of your desk.”

He slid open the drawer, nodding at the folder placed on the top of the pile.

You handed him another folder, much thicker and darker in color.

“This is for today’s trial, which starts at 2:30pm. I’ve given you a mandatory two hour block starting at noon to take your lunch, and go over the information we have.”

You put a delicate hand on the backs of the two large bottles of water you placed on his desk, and he found himself staring at the way the condensation clung to your skin.

“These are from Mondstadt’s finest spring production. I puttered around last night and was able to sweet talk a distributor into sourcing bottles from all seven nations, and he’s willing to send a bi-weekly shipment for us. Sedene told me that you are fond of the different flavors from all over Teyvat, and I saw that you only get shipments from the different nations individually, so I thought that finding a sole distributor who could outsource them for us would be much more efficient.”

He blinked at you, processing your words carefully.

You stared right back, and as the silence grew, so did the pink on your cheeks. In the back of his mind, he thought it rather endearing that you seemed so flustered, so eager to please him.

“Please say something, If you don’t I'm going to continue to ramble to try and convince myself that I’m doing everything correctly.”

A soft breath escaped him, and then it fluttered into a chuckle, as much as he tried to stop it. Your gaze went wide, and you stood shock still, waiting.

“This is wonderful, much more than I ever would have asked for.” He said, softening his gaze. He saw you relax, and smile back at him— and something inside him twitched.

Since retaining his full dragonhood, he’s been struggling with new and confusing emotions, instincts, and for some reason every time he was in your presence he felt things he’d never experienced before.

But—He felt so incredibly grateful for your assistance, so he tampered these strange emotions down, not wanting to speak of them and scare you off when you had just begun to better his work life.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Thank you. I was so worried I had overdone it and you would be upset.”

“You seem to have a lot of anxieties when it comes to your work performance. Your heart rate spiked the moment you walked in, and only now has calmed to an adequate level.”

You gaped at him, and of course your heart rate returned to its accelerated speed.

“I mean no offense by this,” he floundered— albeit gracefully, softening his tone. “I just mean to say that I wish you would feel more at ease here. You’re doing exceptionally well.”

A strange smell permeated the air around you, sickly sweet and very enticing. He’d smelt something similar before, though much fainter, but he couldn’t remember when, and he knew for sure that he had never smelled anything so mouthwateringly divine as this.

Was it a new perfume? Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

You seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red, before you nodded, bowing slightly before scuttling out the door, stammering about paperwork and your other tasks— carrying that sweet aroma with you.

Strange, he thought. I’ll have to do more research into what this could be.

He’d been experiencing many new senses since regaining his full power, perhaps a heightened sense of smell? He was not sure. All he really knew for certain was that he was thoroughly enjoying your presence here at the Palais.

———————————————

The rain poured heavily this evening, casting everything in a deep gray filter, the dark clouds rolling over the city sky in thick droves.

The trial was terrible. A child murderer had been left unchecked for too long, killing two boys and a girl, leaving one victim alive yet traumatized beyond repair.

The young girl's mother had attended the trial, interrupting during the defense's deposition to scream at the accused, demanding retribution and revenge for her poor daughter, and the lives of the children that were lost before her.

In the end, the woman had to be escorted away, and the trial continued. Justice was indeed served. But the look of broken rage on that mothers face stuck with Neuvillette the entire time, though he pushed it to the back of his mind to remain impassive to anything but the facts.

The rain fell in thick sheets, soaking the streets and making everyone either run for an umbrella or to find shelter. He sat at his desk, back to the window as he listened to the sound of the water beating against the glass.

With his attention drawn toward his thoughts, he almost didn’t hear you enter. He glanced at you as you walked past his desk, placing one of your hands on the window as you looked outside at the mess.

“Wow,” you said. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

Neuvillette felt guilty.

“Ah, my apologies, the rain must put a damper on your mood.” He said before he could even think to filter himself.

He wasn’t exactly trying to hide what he was, but he didn’t think you’d quite figured it out yet.

“Why are you apologizing, silly?” You smiled. “I love the rain. It’s so peaceful and calming.”

His interest was piqued, and he turned towards you in his chair. “Oh?”

You nodded. “I’ve always loved the rain. Something about water being the lifeblood of the earth, you know? The cycle continuing, nourishing us— Washing away the old, bringing in the new.” You flushed a little then, looking down at your feet. “Ah, forgive me, I must sound a bit odd.”

“No,” Neuvillette said, seeing some clouds part ever so slightly outside, a ray of the sun peaking through to shine upon the Palais, upon you. “I quite enjoy the rain too, on more pleasant occasions.”

You grinned at him. “Perhaps we could take a walk then? It looks like it’s slowing down, so we shouldn’t get too many odd stares if we keep to the grounds of the Palais.”

“You wish to walk in the rain? I do not have an umbrella with me, unfortunately.”

You shook your head, walking quickly just outside the door, where you procured a navy blue raincoat with a large hood from some void outside his office where you kept your belongings.

“I never use umbrellas, I love the feeling of the rain directly, don’t you?”

Something in his chest pulled, and he cleared his throat.

“Ah, I do. I didn’t think many others felt the same.”

“It’s quite warm today, so I don’t think you’d run the risk of catching a cold— as long as you don’t mind getting your nice clothes wet, I think we should do it!”

You beamed at him, not knowing that he had never had to worry about catching the common cold before, yet you worried all the same.

You seemed to be unaware of just how you affected him, how brightly you shined to Neuvillette.

He’d not known you for long, but he genuinely hoped that you continued to stay here, working with him, because he was actually starting to look forward to coming to his office, coming to work.

The rain clouds cleared just a bit more.

—————————————

You’re going to lose your job.

If you cannot get a hold of yourself, of these childish, ridiculous, fantastical ideas you’ve managed to curate in your head— your boss is going to realize you’re insane and fire you.

At least, this is what goes through your head when you look in the mirror at the crack of dawn, preparing yourself for work.

Just over a month at this wonderful, enjoyable and well paying job, and your wonderful brain decides to throw you into a myriad of dreams in which your boss, the chief justice and newly reigning figurehead of the nation of Fontaine, was the main focus.

It started off innocent. Dreams about normal and mundane things that happen at work. This was perfectly normal and fine, it happened with nearly every job you had.

You reminisce on days where your dreams consisted of you bagging produce at a local fruit stand as a teenager— oh, such simple times.

But as the weeks carried on, your dreams tended to metastasise into something less than appropriate.

It started with his eyes.

One day at work you caught him observing you. Now— this was not unusual, Neuvillette was a very observant person, and when in a comfortable environment, such as his office, he was not very subtle. It did not bother you, especially when you were doing such mundane things as filling out reports. But this time, when you looked up to check on him, your eyes met— and for a moment you held his stare.

His eyes held such a depth of colour, so striking and vibrant, yet so pale and mystical. And the way he looked at you stirred some aching, foreign thing inside you. It was like he was looking into your very soul, at the blood running through your veins. You flushed, naturally, and hurried off to procure the fresh water for his lunch break.

You tried to pray away the heat that was quickly rushing south, antagonizing yourself thinking that somehow, someway, he was going to find out that just a singular look had you nearly swooning like a hormonal teenager.

This look then proceeded to haunt nearly every dream, and the most recent one was something straight out of one of those light novels from inazuma.

In the dream, you’d been arguing about something, which hadn’t happened in the waking world yet, so your brain just conjured some petty and random cause. You’d gotten frustrated, turning to stomp off. He’d caught your wrist as you were walking away from him, and had pulled you close, staring into your eyes like he was going to devour you.

You had awoken covered in sweat, desperately needing a cold shower.

It wasn’t even all that scandalous. You dreamed of his eyes, of light touches, familiarity, closeness. And like a fool, this still sent your heart into overdrive, barely being able to look at him throughout the day. Ever since he’d mentioned being able to hear your heart beating out of control, you tried to get a handle on your nerves around him, but this new issue only seemed to make things worse.

One day, around the two month mark, you thought you’d been caught.

It was just another day, you didn’t even remember what you’d said to make him laugh, but it was a short, slight wheeze that pulled almost involuntarily from his chest. It made you grin, it made you feel light.

“Oh,” he shook his head, chuckling out your name and smiling down at you from where he stood by the window. “Your sense of humor never fails to impress, you really are a joy to work with.”

Your heart jumped into your throat at his words, at his light and familiar tone, at his genuine smile. You felt your face heat up, and your thighs twitched with the urge to squirm, feeling some rather inappropriate things for your current setting.

You wanted to smack yourself. You were a professional person, someone who took their job extremely seriously. You were not some degenerate whose knees buckled whenever they received praise from a handsome man, a handsome man who just happened to be your boss.

Neuvillettes nose raised a bit, and he breathed deep, as if he was smelling the air. “See, there it is again.” He said, stepping closer to where you sat at his desk, working on the weekly reports. “That scent, I only ever smell it when you’re here. Are you wearing some kind of perfume?”

Your eyes widened. What smell? You thought back to your morning routine, deodorant, a light moisturizer on your skin, you wore your bulle fruit perfume this morning, loving the bright and citrusy scent it gave you, lasting throughout the day. You told him this, and he shook his head, brows furrowing in contemplation.

“No, it's not that,” he said. “It’s difficult to explain, it's sweet yet earthy, rich…and incredibly enticing.” He sort of mumbled that last part, though he seemed to be speaking more to himself than you anyways.

“Rather puzzling, and it tends to happen in conjunction with your fluster, though I haven’t quite pieced together why you’re still so anxious around the workplace, I've been quite diligent with reminding you how wonderful of a job you’re doing.”

You did squirm this time, feeling a visceral throb between your legs, and a sudden weight drop in your chest one after the other as a thought warmed its way into your head.

Could he…. Could Neuvillette really be smelling your arousal? And on top of that, not understanding that was what it was?

For lack of a better phrase, you would say that you’re incredibly screwed.

#neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x female reader #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 5 days

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Closed Position: Week 3 (Cha Cha Part 2)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 17.6k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Dieter being Dieter. Gratuitous use of the "f" word and talk about Dieter’s member. Cat and Plant dad Dieter cuteness. Brief mentions of intimate partner violence (more protective Dieter).

Chapter Quote: “I think I just became the bitch of a seven pound menace.”

Dieter’s POV

This week had been a fucking roller coaster. It started off with a bizarre production meeting with Stacia and Joe. I couldn’t believe they asked Kat and me to be flirty for the cameras, knowing she was engaged to someone else who is part of the cast. It was beyond inappropriate. Honestly, it pissed me off and I wasn’t OK with it. I didn’t like the position it would put her in.

They hadn’t been wrong about Kat standing out during the group performance. It was obvious to anyone who had eyes and I honestly felt proud of her. After the way Stacia had acted when I requested Kat as my partner, like she wasn’t that great of a dancer, it was almost like a big ‘fuck you’ to her. I loved every second of it and was feeling a little smug as they talked about putting Kat in the spotlight. It took everything in me not to rub it in.

The lunch with Kat that followed was an interesting experience. We really hadn’t got to spend a lot of time talking about things other than dancing up to this point. The lunch was a welcome break to have other conversations. I appreciated that she seemed interested in my hobbies. My plant hobby wasn’t something that I really got to discuss with people, so it was refreshing. I also got to learn about her plans for opening a dance studio after this season ends. I could tell she wasn’t looking forward to giving up competitions, but she seemed legitimately excited about her next steps. I was excited for her, and honestly, I couldn’t wait to see what she came up with. I knew whatever she did would be amazing.

During our first rehearsal for the Cha Cha, I found myself spiraling. Especially when we started putting the dance together. I knew the Latin dances had more of a flirty and sexual feel to them and I tried to mentally prepare myself for that ahead of time. However, I was not prepared for the way Kat was moving her hips, especially when she was doing it with her backside essentially rubbing up against my dick. When I told her I didn’t want to make an ass of myself, I was referring to the fact that it was taking everything in me to keep little bravo from standing at full attention and poking her from behind. I couldn’t focus and I couldn’t relax. It was literal torture. I was obviously going to have to figure out how to deal with that or we were going to have a problem going forward. I’m not even sure how I made it through rehearsals that day.

I was shocked when a text from Kat popped up on my phone later that evening. I was even more shocked when she said we were going to a Latin dance club. I tried to play it off with jokes, but internally I was falling apart. I spent the evening standing in my closet staring at my clothes. I had no fucking clue what to wear to a Latin dance club. I ended up texting my stylist around 10:30 PM, begging her to tell me what to wear. I was relieved when she said she would have a few things sent over the next day.

I had an appointment with my therapist very early the next morning. The first topic of the day was how things were going with Kat. I lied through my teeth, wanting to change the subject. I was not ready to unpack my feelings for Kat with Dr. Smith. Mostly because I was afraid of what she would have to say about it. I’m not sure Dr. Smith believed a word I said. She gave me a skeptical look when I changed the subject, but let me continue without coming back to that topic. I did notice her jotting down some notes though. I had a feeling it was going to come back to bite me later. I knew my feelings were wrong and that I shouldn’t be having them, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like it was out of my control at this point. I had tried so fucking hard to ignore it and I was still trying but failing. Some of it was physical, obviously, but the more time I spent with Kat the more I was drawn to her personality. I had never felt anything like this before and could not even begin to understand what it meant. I just wanted to pack it away and worry about it later.

I had a photo shoot with some fancy men’s fashion magazine after that. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure which one. It was the last thing I wanted to be doing, but I needed any job I could get. I still had to prove that I had my shit together and could show up and work without issue. It was also part of rehabilitating my image. The new and improved stylish Dieter Bravo. People in Hollywood talked, so it was important that I was present mentally and physically for this. I did my best to smile and be engaged with everyone, but it all felt forced. However, everyone seemed happy with the final product, so I took that as a win. At least it kept my mind distracted from what Kat and I were doing later.

When I got home, I found that my stylist had dropped off several items of clothing for our outing. I went with what looked the most comfortable. Luckily it was mostly light fabrics, so I wouldn’t burn up. I really only needed to change clothes since I had already showered, and my hair was styled from the shoot. That left me with an hour to do absolutely nothing except get myself worked up into a frenzy. The minutes were dragging on agonizingly slow, and my mind was already going to places that it shouldn’t be. I wondered what Kat would be wearing and if she was going to be moving the way she had been during rehearsals the day before. The thought of her rubbing up against me again was already making me hard.

I paced around my bedroom, begging my dick to calm the fuck down. Nothing was working. The only resolution I could come up with was to take care of it. I had been avoiding doing this because every time, my thoughts would wander to Kat. I didn’t want to think about her that way, worried that it would open up a door that I was frantically trying to hold closed.

I huffed out a quiet “fuck it” under my breath before quickly undressing and grabbing a t-shirt off the floor that I had slept in and crawled onto the bed. I found a bottle of lube in the nightstand drawer and went for it. I didn’t even try to keep the thoughts of Kat away this time - the way she would bite her lip and look at me through her lashes, the way it felt when she touched me while we were dancing, the way her hips moved. I imagined how she would look moving her hips like that on top of me and how fucking amazing she would feel wrapped around me. That was all it took to send me over the edge. I felt like a fucking teenager who was unable to control his load with how fast I came into my dirty t-shirt over the mental image of her writhing on top of me.

I laid there with my eyes closed for a few minutes, trying to come down from the high I was still riding, but the images and thoughts kept coming. I couldn’t stop them now. I wondered how she was when it came to sex. Would she prefer it to be slow and sensual or did she have a wild side? Something told me it was a little bit of both, and I was one hundred fucking percent on board with that. Within minutes, I was hard again. Jesus fucking Christ what is wrong with me? It had to be a new record because it never happened that quickly. Was it because I had been denying myself? Or was it because of Kat? Maybe both?

I looked at the clock, realizing I had to leave in 30 minutes. I sighed loudly, aware that this little problem wasn’t going away on its own. It was already almost painful. So, I went for round two and hoped that it got whatever the fuck this was out of my system.

Twenty minutes later I was a sweaty mess, standing in front of a fan trying to cool off after having one of the most intense orgasms I can recall having from masturbating. Then again, I had probably been too high in the past to remember the majority of them, so that didn’t say much. Once my heart rate calmed down, I moved to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to dry myself off some. I didn’t have time for a shower, so I threw on some more deodorant and cologne and hoped for the best. At least my hair still looked decent.

I somehow made it to the dance studio a few minutes early. I sat in the car waiting for Kat. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, feeling strangely calm and focused. I hoped I could maintain this mood for the rest of the evening - the rest of the week even. I just needed time to desensitize myself to the intimacy and close proximity that we were being forced into this week. Once I did that, I would be able to handle anything. I had to.

I was startled from my thoughts by Kat opening the passenger side door. She laughed loudly over my reaction and it was the most beautiful sound. I could listen to her laugh all day. Then I took in what she was wearing, a simple knee length black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, and she wasn’t even showing that much skin.

I appreciated that she thought to warn me about the bar during the drive to the club. Most people wouldn’t have considered that. I figured there would be alcohol and other substances floating around, but oddly enough, those things were not even on my radar. I wasn’t lying to her when I said it was a non-issue because I would be distracted. I just fibbed about what my distraction would be. My thoughts were only of her, and I knew they would be for the rest of the night.

The club was as expected, the same as any other. Kat wasted no time pulling me onto the dance floor. I was hesitant at first, worried about the possible involuntary reactions my dick might decide to have. Any hesitation I had dissipated when Kat grabbed my face and forced me to focus on her. There was something familiar about the way she was looking at me that I couldn’t place as she urged me to become one with her and the music - to relax and trust her. It drew me in, igniting that connection that we shared. The connection that I had been fighting so hard this week. After that, I was surprised to find that my worries ended up being a non-issue. I had to laugh to myself, realizing the only thing I had been needing to do was beat little Bravo into submission, for tonight at least.

The longer we danced, the more at ease I became. It felt like we were just two friends having a good time together. It seemed a little flirty, but that was the general atmosphere, and it came with this type of dancing. I knew that and tried not to dwell on it much. When Kat broke away and suggested a water break, I noticed she had an odd look on her face. I wanted to ask if something was wrong, but decided not to, figuring she was probably just tired. She had been going all day after all. She offered to go grab us some bottles of water. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew she was making an effort to keep me away from the bar, which I appreciated. The last thing I needed was to be photographed near one.

I was surprised when a few fans approached and asked for pictures while I waited for Kat to return. In the past, I had been kind of an asshole to fans, and I knew it. So, I tried to make it a good experience for them. They seemed just excited to see Kat when she joined us. They had actually been fun to talk to and it ended up being a humbling reminder that they were the reason I had the life that I did. It made me appreciate my choice to get sober even more.

Once Kat and I got back on the dance floor, I could feel something shifting between us. She had that familiar look on her face again and it was stirring something inside of me. After a few songs, it finally hit me. It was the same look she had in the video I had watched of her and Alec dancing. She never had it with any of her other partners from what I had seen.

This realization sent my mind spiraling. Now that I had picked up on it, I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. There was fire blazing in them as she looked back at me, but there was something else there too. Conflict? Confusion? The intensity of it only seemed to increase the longer we went on. I could feel the air crackling between us so strongly that it was making me dizzy. I was almost afraid to think about it, but my gut told me that she was feeling something for me too.

When I playfully dipped her backward, I couldn’t help admiring her neck as her hair slid off it. For the first time, I dared to wonder what it would be like to kiss her there. As I pulled her upward, our eyes locked. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. She rested her forehead against mine as her hand gently caressed my cheek. I could feel her hot breath blowing over my lips as we lingered there. I really thought she was going to kiss me, until she suddenly turned to walk away. I didn’t want to let go, allowing my hands to trail down her body as she moved toward the edge of the dance floor. What the fuck just happened?

And just like that, the spell was broken. When she turned back toward me, she was smiling, but her eyes were guarded, and the fire was nearly extinguished. It wasn’t completely gone though, I could still see it simmering under whatever composure she thought she had gained. I gave her a big smile, relishing my new discovery.

I wasn’t surprised when she suggested we leave after that. The atmosphere of this place was chipping away at the thin wall that both of us had put up. If we stayed, that wall was going to crumble, fast.

I didn’t hesitate to take her hand as she led us out of the club. I was having sort of a “fuck it” moment and throwing caution to the wind when it came to touching her. I wasn’t even sure if I could stop myself at this point. We took a minute to take some selfies with fans on our way out. I kept at least one hand on her throughout that. The whole ride back to the studio I did manage to restrain myself since I had no reason to touch her while I was driving. I wanted more than anything to take her hand or rest mine on her thigh. I was dumbfounded by this sudden urge. It wasn’t one that I had before. I usually shied away from any type of physical touch unless I was having sex with someone. Even then, it wasn’t affectionate. It was for pleasure. Affection just wasn’t something I had had a lot of in my life and it wasn’t something I ever wanted. Until now.

When we got back to the studio and found Alec waiting outside, my stomach dropped. I had a really bad feeling about leaving Kat alone with him because he looked angry and a little inebriated. When she told me to go inside, I hesitated, but felt like I couldn’t just stand there. So, I went inside and got changed, realizing that I had left my sneakers in the car when I didn’t find them in my gym bag. At least I had a good excuse to go outside and make sure she was OK.

As I walked out the front entrance, my eyes immediately sought Kat out. My gaze found her just as Alec shoved her against the wall, causing her head to smack against the brick. I didn’t hesitate to go to her and shove him out of the way. I had never wanted to cause harm to someone so much in my life. It was taking everything in me not to crush his fucking face in with my bare hands, but Kat came first, and I needed to make sure she was unharmed. I’m sure my attentiveness to her only pissed Alec off further, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to bow down to his ego anymore.

I decided to try and diffuse the situation, for Kat’s sake, but that didn’t go as planned. I couldn’t say I was really surprised that Alec tried to hit me. I saw the look in his eyes and the way his hand balled up before he threw the punch. I was surprised by my reaction to it though. I’m pretty sure I closed my eyes as I flinched away from his fist, but somehow still managed to hit him pretty damn hard right in the nose. Hard enough that my hand was burning afterward. The satisfaction that I got from seeing his busted up face was well worth it.

When Alec called out for Kat to leave with him, I could feel every muscle in my body tense. There was no way I was letting her go. I couldn’t. I would hit him again before I let that happen. I was relieved when he didn’t try to fight it and left without further issue. As soon as he was safely out of our vicinity, I pulled Kat into a tight hug. I needed to check her over again - make sure she was really OK. Of course, she brushed away my concern in place of her own as she looked over my hand.

I realized she needed something else to focus on so that she didn’t fall apart. So, I let her take care of me. It didn’t stop me from looking her over again as she dug through the first aid kit. I could see her hands trembling as she rummaged around for supplies. Physically she seemed fine, but I knew her emotions were all over the place. I could tell she was in a fragile state, and it was breaking my heart. For the first time I noticed that this sweet and beautiful person was so fucking broken on the inside. She had done well to hide it, but the cracks were there, and I was finally seeing them. I wanted nothing more than to make her feel better and keep her safe. I wanted her to be mine and I wanted to take care of her the way she deserved.

I knew it was a bad idea to put my feelings out into the world right now, so I didn’t. I did, however, want her to know that I was here for her and that I was willing to help in any way she needed. It was all I could offer, but it seemed to be enough. For now. Even though I didn’t tell her how I felt about her, I did share what I thought about Alec. I could only hope she would consider my words and make the right choice for her own well being. I had already decided that I would be there for her through it, no matter what, I just hoped she would let me.

I spent all night tossing and turning, worried about whether Kat was safe. She had texted that she got home safely and was locked in, but that didn’t do anything to relieve my anxiety. I was up before my alarm went off the next morning, in a rush to get to the studio just so I could lay eyes on her. Then I realized me getting there sooner didn’t mean she would get there sooner. I grabbed my phone, found her name in my contacts, and typed out a quick text.

Me: Want me to pick you up some breakfast with your coffee? Muffin? Cheese Danish? Kit Kat? 😏 (smirk emoji).

It was my sneaky ass way of making sure she was OK without asking.

Kat: Again, I will never turn down food. Surprise me. No Kit Kats though. I’m banning them from the studio.

I chuckled. It seemed like she was back to her normal snarky self.

Me: ☹️☹️☹️ (three frowny face emojis)

Kat: OK. Fine. Just don’t let me SEE you eating them.

Kat: And Dieter…

Me: Yeah?

Kat: I’m OK. You could have just asked. Thank you though. 💜 (heart emoji)

Well, damn. She was onto me. Not that I minded. I kind of loved that she knew me well enough to know what I was up to.

Me: I didn’t want to be annoying about it. I’m happy you’re OK though. I was worried. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep tonight…I’ll see you soon.

I hesitated before I hit send on that reply, but I wanted her to know how concerned I was and that I actually cared. At this point, I felt like I was mentally getting out a hammer and chisel, chipping away tiny pieces of wall between us. I wasn’t going to be able to keep all this in forever. Hell, before it’s over, I may end up busting through, Kool-Aid man style.

Once I gathered everything I needed for the day, I headed to the coffee shop, getting there in record time. I got Kat’s usual coffee order and added a blueberry scone. I was antsy, wanting to get the studio as soon as possible. I still needed to see her, to be sure. I knew the tightness in my chest wasn’t going to go away until I did.

I arrived at the studio twenty minutes early. I was surprised when I spotted Kat’s car in its usual spot. The space beside it was open, so I pulled in. Knowing it would be easier for me to keep an eye on things as we left later. My arms were full causing me to struggle to get inside the main entrance, but I managed without dropping anything. Kat laughed at my exasperated face once she noticed me trying to open the heavy studio doors. She ran over to help, giving me a warm smile as she took the drinks and food from my hands.

Kat sat everything down on a few chairs at the back of the room. I followed behind, eyeing her. I was relieved to see that she did seem to be OK, that was until she reached up to tie her hair back. After she finished, the wide neck of her top slid off of her shoulder, revealing bruises. I could feel my jaw tightening as I reached out to touch them.

Kat’s brow furrowed at my expression before looking down to where my fingertips softly grazed her discolored skin. She sighed, taking my hand in hers as she peered up at me, “I told you, I’m fine. I didn’t even notice it.”

I shook my head, feeling the rage simmering, then pulled her into a tight hug. “Please tell me you’re done with him,” I said into the top of her hair.

She hugged me around the waist, burying her face in my chest for a moment before she pulled back, inhaling a deep breath, “I had a ton of messages and missed calls from him when I got home last night. All full of apologies…he knows he fucked up.”

I tensed, not liking how this sounded.

“I texted him back…not ending things, but I did ask for space. I have a lot to think about and I can’t do that with him talking at me.”

I was hopeful that she would see what an asshole he was. She had to. She couldn’t continue like this.

“How are you feeling about things this morning?” I asked.

She gave me an apprehensive look.

“You know what, it’s not my business. I shouldn’t be asking.” I said before she could respond, suddenly feeling like I was prying. I didn’t want to do that. I moved to turn away from her, but then I felt her hand on my arm, “No, really…it’s OK. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. Nobody knows about that side of him.”

She sighed, sat down, then ran her hands down her face. “Honestly, I’m just kind of numb. I really don’t feel anything. I should at least be angry, right? Is that bad?”

I sat down beside her. She reached for my injured hand and started rubbing her fingers over the knuckles with a lost look in her eyes. I watched her for a moment before I responded.

“Honestly, I think maybe you feel that way because you're avoiding dealing with it. Compartmentalizing it maybe? But I get the feeling it’s reaching a point where you can’t do that anymore.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “I think maybe you might be right.”

Her eyes met mine with a sad smile on her lips, “The film crew will be here soon. I should try to cover this up. I don’t wanna give them gossip on a silver platter.”

She turned and reached for her gym bag, pulling out a smaller pouch full of makeup. I watched as she dabbed green, yellow, and purple color correctors on my knuckles then covered it with concealer, finishing with a setting spray. The discoloration and bruising were hardly noticeable now.

“Hopefully that will last long enough to get us through filming today. I’ll try to be careful and not rub it off while we’re dancing,” she said. Now turning her attention to the noticeable bruise on her shoulder. She started working to cover that as well, but struggled, not really able to see what she was doing. I reached out my hand, “Here, let me do that for you.” She sighed, but relented and handed me the color corrector palette she was holding.

I could feel her eyes on my face as I worked. My cheeks heated under her gaze as my heart pounded away in my chest. The static was crackling between us again, causing a few more chips to fall away from the wall between us. The moment felt incredibly intimate, and it only made me crave more. Once I was finished, she quietly thanked me and packed everything away out of sight.

We sat enjoying our coffee and breakfast as the camera crew started filing in with their equipment. A couple of the crew members got us mic'd up and started the interview right away while everything else was set up. Of course, they had questions about the sightings of us at the Latin club. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. Luckily, Kat handled those questions perfectly. I know I would have stumbled my way through them in a way that probably would have raised some eyebrows.

Overall, we were more relaxed during filming this week - actually laughing and having fun as we rehearsed. We had a moment where Kat accidentally kicked me in the shin while transitioning to a lift. I turned on the dramatics for it, whining and rubbing at the spot as if it had hurt badly. It really hadn’t, but I did enjoy getting her worked up over it. Once she realized I was messing with her, she lightly smacked my shoulder and called me a jerk before breaking into laughter. The crew got a good chuckle out of it, quickly catching onto my antics before Kat did. We pretty much had the routine down by the end of the day, which put us a little ahead of schedule. That took a lot of stress off us for the week, which I think helped with the playfulness between us.

The day was over before we knew it. Kat seemed to be in better spirits as she got into her car, smiling at me over the roof of it as she waved. Once she was safely on her way, I pulled out of the parking lot to head to the pet store…again. I had gone through several different brands of cat food over the last week. The Little Dude wasn’t having any of it. He only wanted Tuna. I found myself in the cat food aisle, staring at a wall of packages. They all looked the same to me. I sighed, feeling overwhelmed by the options and not knowing anything about cats. I finally settled on some meaty looking wet food and hoped for the best.

As soon as I got home, I found Little Dude waiting outside the sliding glass door in the kitchen. He was on a schedule now and wasn’t going to let me forget about it. I opened the door, allowing him to come sashaying into the kitchen to sit next to the island. Waiting and watching as I scooped some of the new canned food out onto a plate and presented it to him. He stood and tentatively sniffed the chunks, then took a few nibbles but decided against it. He sat back down and looked up at me, whipping his tail around.

“Still a no, huh?” I said to him. He meowed loudly back at me. I sighed heavily, “You know, considering you were on the streets not long ago, you’ve gotten awfully picky. I feel taken advantage of here…”

He meowed again. I rolled my eyes as I moved toward the pantry for another pouch of tuna. I tried mixing some of the juice in with the food and gave it back to him. He still wouldn’t touch it. So, I added a few chunks of tuna as a topping. He ate the tuna and left the rest of it, before plopping himself down on his haunches and staring at me for more.

I chuckled to myself, “I think I just became the bitch of a seven pound menace. Fine, Dude. You win. Here’s your damn tuna. We need to get this figured out though. I’m sure you're not getting all your nutrients from that.”

He meowed up at me happily as I added more tuna to the plate. Once he had his fill, he walked over and jumped up on the couch making himself at home. I scoffed, “Dude, come on. You smell like something out of Pet Semetary.” He had the audacity to start wallowing around on his back. I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the linen closet, pulling out a spare blanket. After moving back to the couch, I opened up the blanket and fluffed it out next to him. He wasted no time settling in, purring and making biscuits with his paws. I gave him some scratches behind the ears as he dozed off. It was clear to me now, this cat was obviously trying to move in. With a heavy sigh, I realized that I needed to get some cat stuff for the house if this was going to be a thing, but I wasn’t even sure where to start with that. It was just another thing to worry about, but I sort of didn’t mind. He was definitely growing on me, making the house feel less empty and me less alone.

Friday rehearsals went by in a blur. I arrived a few minutes early, finding Kat in the studio, ready to go. She seemed in good spirits as we joked through our morning coffee. Her twinkling laugh continued as we went through our stretch routine. I moaned and groaned through the torture while she bent my body to its limits, and I loved every fucking minute of it. I noticed that our new found comfort with each other had her leaning into me more. Her touches were more casual and relaxed. I couldn’t get enough of the feeling of her warmth against me or the brilliant smile on her face as she laughed at my ridiculousness. The hint of sadness that I noticed hidden in her eyes the last couple of days was nowhere in sight.

Once we moved into the routine, the air between us felt like it was crackling again. Heated glances and small smiles passed between us as we made it through the entirety of the dance several times without error. We were so in tune with each other now, dancing in silence as one. Moving effortlessly through the steps without any thought or hesitation from either of us. The world fell away at that moment. We could have been in the midst of a war zone, and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I saw was her. There was no question about it now, I definitely had feelings for her that were more than just physical attraction. I couldn’t keep denying it to myself.

Of course, Alec was technically still in the picture. Kat made a point to say that she hadn’t ended things with him. She had only asked for space. I was still determined not to put her in any type of compromising position. I had too much respect for her to do that, my own feelings be damned. I really needed to watch myself.

After a few hours, we finally took a break. I lay sprawled out on the floor, staring up at her as she drank from her water bottle. I could see the sweat running down her neck, disappearing in the hidden space between her breasts. I had to force my eyes upward to her face before little Bravo decided to wake up against my wishes.

When she finished, she turned to me, catching me staring. I didn’t even bother to look away. She gave me a shy smile as she sat down on the floor next to me.

“So, what are you up to this evening? More plant daddy responsibilities?”

I snorted, “Plant daddy? That’s one I haven’t heard before.”

Kat snickered before taking another sip of water.

“No, actually I need to go to the pet store…hey, do you know anything about cats?”

Her brow furrowed, “Is this some kind of weird joke that I’m about to walk into?”

I chuckled, “No, I’m serious. I’m talking about the feline kind. I’ve had this stray show up at my house and he won’t fucking leave. Somehow that’s turned into him becoming a roommate. I’m having issues finding food he’ll eat though. I also don’t know what sort of cat stuff I need if I bring him inside like he seems to want to do.”

She chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye as she said, “So, you’re a cat daddy now, too?”

I shrugged with a smirk, “Yeah, I guess I’m trying to be.”

She had a look on her face that I couldn’t decipher before breaking into a smile.

“Yeah, I had cats growing up. They can be finicky and dramatic when it comes to food.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ve picked up on that...What should I do? Can you give me a list of stuff I need to get? I’ve never had a pet, so I have no idea where to start.”

Her face softened, “You’re going to the pet store after you leave here?”

I nodded, curious what her tone meant. She paused before answering, seeming somewhat hesitant at first, “I could go with you if you want?”

I felt one side of my lips tug upward, “That would be amazing, actually.”

Kat was true to her word. Once we finished rehearsal, she followed me to the pet store. Parking in the space next to mine and smiling as she exited her car. As she walked toward me, I realized it made me feel strangely giddy to be doing something like this with her.

She hooked her arm with mine as we walked toward the entrance. I could feel warmth spreading in my chest at her casual touches. I had to fight the smile tugging at my lips.

“So, what is your fur child actually eating?” She asked.

I grimaced, “Well, up until like a week or so ago, I assume whatever he could catch and kill. Honestly, he smells like something out of that Pet Semetary movie…which reminds me…have you ever given a cat a bath?”

It was her turn to grimace, “Are you insane? Cats usually don’t like water. There are professionals that will do that for you, ya know?”

I shook my head, “This kid is not used to people. I fear he wouldn’t be able to handle a grooming salon. At least not yet…”

She sighed, giving me a serious wide-eyed stare, “Fine, I’ll help you give the cat a bath…but if I die…I’m haunting your ass.”

I belly laughed at her response as we entered the store, which seemed to draw some eyes toward us. I dropped my head and moved toward the first aisle as Kat got a shopping cart.

“A cart, huh? How much of my money are you about to spend?”

She chuckled, “Hey, I’m just making recommendations. You do what you will with them.”

She pointed things out as we moved down the aisles, some of it just for fun, some of it was needed. I ended up splurging on a couple of robotic litter boxes and cat cave beds, bathing supplies, toys, a ridiculously massive cat tree, and a collar all before getting to the food. She was relentless with her teasing about my need to buy the most expensive thing on the shelf. I loved it when she teased me like this. It caused her eyes to light up in a way that made my heart race.

Once we got to the food aisle, she again asked what the cat was currently eating.

“The only thing I’ve been successful with so far is Tuna. I’ve gotten several different kinds of cat food, and he just turns his nose up to them.”

She stood staring down the aisle with too many options, scrunching up her nose before speaking again. “OK, so he likes fishy stuff. Have you tried dry food or wet food?”

She is too fucking adorable when she makes that face. My brows arched at her, “Both.”

Her lips set into a line, “Did you try salmon flavored?”

I scoffed, “I’m pretty sure I tried every flavor they have. They were all a no.”

Her brow furrowed as she looked up and down the aisle, thinking. Her eyes finally settled on a freezer at the far end, “Maybe he would prefer something a little fresher since he’s a hunter?”

My eyes widened, “I hope you don’t mean like…live rats or something. I’m not doing that.”

She snorted, “Noooo. Ugh, no. I would never suggest that. I meant raw food.”

My eyes widened, “Ohhh. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe…I’m willing to give it a try.”

We made our way down to the freezer and she picked out a raw salmon food. It was small scoopable frozen nuggets full of organic ingredients. It honestly sounded better than the other stuff I had bought. At least I could pronounce everything on the label. I felt confident this might do the trick. It figures I would end up with a cat that had a taste for the fancy stuff.

As we walked down the last couple of aisles, I circled back to the bath conversation, “Sooo, were you serious about helping give the Little Dude a bath?”

She nodded with a smirk, “Yes, I meant every word I said.”

I chuckled, “You wanna come over tomorrow evening for that? I can get everything set up for him tonight. I’ll let him formally move in after he’s bathed.”

She made an annoyed face, “Tomorrow is spray tan day.”

I puffed air out through my cheeks. “I could get some of those long dish washing gloves, then we won’t get wet…and maybe protect us from being clawed to death too.”

She snorted, “That sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll make dinner. I have a feeling I’ll owe you by the time this is over...”

One of her brows ticked upward, “I know I said I would never say no to food, but…you’re gonna cook?”

I placed my hand on my chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me? I happen to be a very good cook. It’s another new hobby I’ve picked up since rehab. My stuff is better than any five star restaurant.”

The sound of her twinkling laugh filled my ears. “Riiiight. I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said between laughs.

I rolled my eyes and gave her a playful smile, “Fine. Be prepared to stick your foot in your mouth.”

Kat chuckled as we approached the checkout counter. We were surprised when the young lady behind the counter nervously asked if she could take a picture with us. We of course agreed and snapped a quick group selfie with the girl. We made small talk with her as she rang up my items. I explained how I had a new visitor show up and Kat was kind enough to show me what all I needed to buy, suddenly worried the girl might get the wrong idea about why we were there together. I had a feeling this would show up on social media at some point.

Kat helped me load everything into the back of my car before giving me a small smile and asking to let her know how the new food goes over with the Little Dude. I thanked her again with a cheesy grin before we both got into our vehicles and headed to our respective homes.

It was a little after 9PM and I was deep into cat tree assembly when I received a text from Kat asking how dinner went. I pursed my lips as my fingers hovered over the keypad. Instead of typing out a message, I hit the video call button. I almost thought she was going to send me to voicemail, but she finally answered, her eyes wide as they jumped around the screen. It looked like she was lying in bed in a dimly lit room. Her hair fell around her face in damp waves, like maybe she had just showered. She looked beautiful. It took me a few seconds too long to find my voice.

“Hey, sorry, are you in bed?” I finally managed to sputter out.

She smiled, “I’m in bed, but not sleeping. Just watching trashy TV and doom scrolling. How did the new food go?”

I smiled at the screen, “Amazing. He devoured it…didn’t even hesitate.”

She smiled back at me, “Good. Happy to hear it. What is he up to now?”

I huffed out a laugh, “Laying at the end of the sectional, silently judging me over my struggles to put this damn cat tree together. I swear you have to be a fucking engineer to figure it out.”

I turned on the front camera of my phone to show her the cat, stretched out on his stinky blanket at the end of the couch as he gave me that judgy stare. She laughed loudly.

“Oooh he’s pretty! He does look very judgy right now though.”

I switched the camera back to me, “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. Why are there so many parts?”

“Hey, you’re the one that had to get the biggest one they had in the store. Deal with the consequences. I told you that you should’ve just asked for the floor model that was already put together.”

“Ummm, no. I wasn’t about to buy something that’s had a million grubby little hands on it and who knows what else. Dude only gets the best…brand new out of the box.”

She rolled her eyes at me, “Did you try looking at the instructions? I know that’s hard for guys to do.”

I scoffed and rattled the paper in front of the camera, “Umm…excuse me? I have been looking at the instructions and they’re garbage. Do you SEE this? It’s literally really bad drawings with no words. I can’t tell the pieces apart. It’s bullshit.”

She let out a loud laugh at my dramatics, covering her mouth with her hand to try and hold it back. I loved seeing her like this. A small part of me wondered what it would be like to lay in bed with her, laughing at trashy TV shows while we were wrapped up in each other under the covers. I shook my head slightly to clear that thought.

“Is this your way of asking me to help you, without actually asking…out of fear of further judgment?”

I furrowed my brows and snorted, “I’m not afraid to ask. Judge me, I don’t care. I have no shame…but if you’re offering…”

“Send me a picture of the instructions. I’ll hold your hand through it.”

I rolled my eyes, “Oh yeah, thanks. You had to go and say it like that.”

I did send her the instructions and we spent the next hour and a half on facetime putting the cat tree together. She had my full attention every time she would pull up the drawings to look at them. Her face would scrunch up in the most adorable way as she tried to figure out the next steps. The only thing that could have made the day more perfect is if she had been here with me in person.

Once the tree was put together, we said goodnight. I noticed Kat lingered on the call for a moment before finally ending it. It caused my stomach to flip. I wished I knew what she was thinking. Is she feeling this too? Or am I just being delusional?

After getting Dude settled in the garage for the evening, I finally crawled into bed. I laid there thinking about what I should cook for dinner. I didn’t want to do anything too over the top, but I did want to impress her. Then I moved on to picturing her in my house, in my space. Us in my space together. It was almost overwhelming. Realizing how badly I wanted that almost scared me.

Sunday rehearsals flew by. We did the last of our fine tuning to the routine, running through it several times with the music track. We nailed it each time. The flirty aspect of the dance seemed to come to us easily now. There was no longer any lingering awkwardness between us. We were both comfortable and trusting of each other and having fun.

We ended up leaving rehearsals a little early to get over to Television City Studios for the cast spray tanning session. We were hoping to get finished quicker by getting there before everyone else. I also felt like Kat was trying to avoid Alec too, which gave me a surge of excitement. It gave me hope that she was possibly thinking about ending things with him for good.

After heading to our respective dressing rooms to get changed into our robes, we found each other again outside the large room used for the spray tan setup. To our surprise they were able to get us in quickly. Kat went in first, then they called me in several minutes later. After I was finished, I wandered back to my dressing room and changed into my gym shorts. I took a minute to dig around in my duffel bag for a t-shirt that I didn’t care for in case the spray tan rubbed off on it. There was no sense in ruining all of my shirts for this shit.

There was a quiet knock on the door, I moved to unlock and open it, assuming it was Kat. She stood there, eyes racking over me with a smirk on her face. I gave her a quick smile as I turned my attention back to my bag, “I’m almost ready…just trying to find a shirt that I don’t care to mess up.”

She came in and leaned against the countertop of the vanity, “No problem, take your time.” She sounded amused. I glanced up at her, she had her arms crossed over her chest as she watched me with one brow raised. “Is something funny?” I asked.

“Every time I come in here, you're half naked.”

I found the shirt I was looking for and pulled it out, standing to my full height to face her, “If that’s the case, why do you keep coming in here then?”

Her face reddened, “Touché. You got me there.”

I laughed, “Yeah, see how that works? I mean…it’s a dressing room. There’s bound to be various stages of undress happening. Don’t act so shocked. At least I have pants on this time.”

She rolled her eyes before looking away. I moved to put my shirt on, purposely taking my time to pull it down over my head. Just as I yanked it down over my face, I caught her eyes shifting away from me. She was definitely checking me out. I could see it in the flush of her cheeks. Well, that's interesting. Maybe she was feeling the spark between us just as much as I am. It doesn’t matter, Bravo. She’s technically still taken.

I turned to pile all of my junk back into my bag, pretending I hadn’t noticed her staring. She finally broke the silence, “So, what are you making me for dinner? I need to start preparing myself now if I’m to survive it.”

I scoffed, “Come on. Give me some credit. You should know by now that I excel in all my extracurricular activities.”

Her eyes widened briefly, a small smirk playing on her lips, “I won’t believe it until I have firsthand experience as proof.”

Are we still talking about cooking? I felt like this conversation had a double meaning. I gave her a cocky grin, “Then prepare yourself for the most…pleasurable…food experience of your life.”

She snorted out a laugh as she moved toward the door, “Right. We’ll see.” I grabbed my bag and followed behind her. Within minutes, I was in my car, driving toward my house with Kat following behind me. I tried not to think of what the evening held, but I knew I needed to behave myself. I had to keep reminding myself that I couldn’t cross any lines with her, no matter how badly I now realized I wanted to.

A short time later, I was keying into my front door with Kat standing close behind me, taking in her surroundings. I was suddenly nervous for her to see my home. It made me feel naked in a different kind of way that I wasn’t prepared for. She would be seeing pieces of me that no one outside of my very small inner circle had. I would be opening myself up to her in a very raw and unfiltered way and I worried she wouldn’t like what she found.

We were both quiet as she entered the living room. There was a small smile playing on her lips as she slowly walked around the space, running her hands over things as she went. Stopping to look at books and little knick-knacks I had sitting around from my travels. My stomach quickly rose to my throat when she focused on the paintings hanging on the walls. There were several duotone abstract pieces I had painted throughout my early days of recovery - visual representations of where I was emotionally at the time I painted them. I had hung them to remind myself of my progress. She spent a lot more time looking at these than anything else, raising her hand to touch the one closest to her.

“These are amazing,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I watched her fingers drop down to the rounded DB initials in the bottom right corner. Her eyes suddenly widening as realization set in. She turned to me, her face now lit up in a way I had never seen. Her eyes were sparkling with wonder as she peered up at me. “Dieter…d-did you paint these?”

I nodded shyly. I couldn’t speak, afraid that my emotions would reveal themselves to her. It meant more to me than I expected that she liked them. Now realizing that her opinion was the only one that ever really mattered to me.

She smiled, “Well…I guess you do seem to excel in your extracurriculars. I can’t wait to see what else you have up your sleeve.”

I smirked at her, swiping my thumb across my lip before speaking. “Hmm, well…I’ll have your mouth watering within the hour. You wanna help me get started?”

One of her brows twitched upward, “I’d be happy to.”

I led her to the kitchen and began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator and pantry. She stood nearby, taking everything in.

“I’m actually a little jealous of your kitchen. This is nice and so are all your gadgets.”

I chuckled, “I do spend a lot of time in here. A fancy kitchen was one of my requirements when I moved.”

She nodded, then pointed at the speaker on the counter. “Do you usually play music while you cook?”

“Yeah, you wanna turn something on?”

“Sure, it’s almost too quiet in here. I like a little background noise.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up the music streaming app - hitting play on whatever playlist was already queued up. A soulful blues song started emitting from the speaker. Kat smiled and nodded in approval. I went back to pulling out the rest of the ingredients, piling everything that needed chopping near the cutting board on the island then grabbed two knives from the drawer.

“Can you handle chopping the veggies? It’ll make this go a lot faster.”

She nodded, then took one of the knives and got to work chopping the mushrooms that I sat in front of her. We worked side-by-side in silence for a few minutes. My mind wandered to thoughts of how domesticated this felt. I liked it…too much.

My attention was suddenly drawn back to Kat as her hips started moving to the rhythm of the music. Fuck, that’s distracting. I placed my hand on the small of her back, causing her to pause and look up at me, “You’re gonna chop a finger off moving around like that.”

The side of her lip tugged upward as she peered at me through her lashes, “Don’t worry…I’m a pro at my extracurriculars too. I can do a lotta things with my hands while my hips are moving.”

I sucked in a sharp breath at her words, my mind started running through all the possibilities behind them and none of it was wholesome. I finally managed to choke out a laugh, before going back to chopping the celery I had started on. Kat continued moving to the music beside me, humming along with the chorus. Fucking hell, I’m gonna chop my own finger off if I don’t watch it. The next song started playing. I was too distracted by Kat’s rolling hips and my thoughts that I didn’t realize what it was until the chorus hit.

Fuck me like you mean it / Make me believe it / Walk the wire, it's alright / Love me like you need it / 'Cause I can feel it / Take it higher, show me why

The knife in my hand clattered down onto the cutting board, I was slightly mortified.

Kat’s movements paused, “Well, I didn’t see that coming…that's a little dirty...” She snickered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what song this was…. I’ll change it.”

Kat placed her hand on my forearm as I turned to grab my phone, “No, I actually kind of like his sound. Leave it.”

Her hip movements continued as I switched to chopping the carrots and her the tomatoes. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. I stood there willing my dick not to get hard. Luckily, I got through the carrots quickly, and took the opportunity to turn my back to her. Moving on to peel and cut an onion under the cold water from the faucet. Which is probably just as well, because another song by the same artist came on that was sending my mind straight to the gutter. It felt like a playlist straight from my debauched thoughts.

Hypnotic lover taking over my mind / Your spell is binding, makes it so hard to fight / She twists her hips and keeps it coming all night / I can't control myself, that girl is so fine

Thankfully we finished with all the vegetable cutting soon after that. I moved on to preparing the pork and getting the frying pan and oil up to temperature. I was happy to have something that required my focus. Kat appeared, leaning against the counter next to the stove, watching me intently.

“So, are you ever gonna tell me what you’re cooking?”

I smirked, “Pork cacciatore.”

She gave me a deadpan stare, “You do know I’m a vegetarian, right?”

I was briefly hit with a streak of panic, before I realized she was messing with me. She had eaten a steak burrito in front of me, twice. I let out a dramatic sigh then smiled, “I guess I’ll be eating alone then. Oh well, more for me.”

She laughed as she playfully smacked my shoulder. I moved in front of her, placing my hand on her hip to scoot her out of the way as I reached above her head to get into the cabinet that housed all the spices. I muttered a quiet “excuse me” as I glanced down at her eyes that were looking up at me through her lashes. She didn’t really move. Instead, she stayed pinned between me and the counter. I could hear the faint sound of her breath hitching at my proximity. I smirked, then turned my attention back to the cabinet, pulling out the dried rosemary, oregano, and basil before finally removing my hand from her hip and stepping back to the stove. I could feel her eyes on me the entire time.

As I started mixing in all the ingredients to simmer, she leaned down on her elbows and inhaled deeply, “Mmm…you were right. My mouth is watering. This smells amazing.”

I gave her a cocky smile, “I told you….and it tastes better than it smells. It’s like an orgasm for your taste buds.”

Shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that. My mouth got ahead of my brain. Her tinkling laugh filled my ears, “That’s a lot of confidence you’ve got in your cooking skills, Bravo.”

I shrugged, “I promised you a pleasurable experience. I’m just delivering on my word.”

Fucking hell, I’m being ridiculous and getting out of line. Reel it in, Bravo!

She didn’t seem phased by my comments, if anything it felt like she was enjoying the banter.

We soon sat down at the dinner table, which I couldn’t recall ever actually sitting at to eat. Kat proceeded to moan through several bites and gush about how delicious it was. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. It made me feel almost giddy that she enjoyed it. Our conversation flowed easily, as we talked about different things. Getting to know each other a little more and slowly chipping away at that imaginary wall that separated us.

“I’m just gonna start coming over here for dinner every night. My cooking can’t compete with this,” she finally said with a joking tone as she scooped that last bite off her plate.

I gave her a toothy grin, “I’ll cook for you anytime you want me to.”

She laughed, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

I laughed it off, but she had no idea how fucking serious I was. I would cook for her every night of forever if she’d let me.

After several minutes of Kat fussing over helping with the dishes, I finally convinced her to let it be. I had a housekeeper that would take care of it in the morning, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal. We decided to take our chances by giving the Little Dude a bath after that. I led her out to the garage which was still a mess with boxes, but Dude didn’t seem to mind it. He had turned it into his own personal playground.

I had set up everything we would need for a bath next to the utility sink so we could get right to it. Kat grabbed one of the towels and laid it out on the counter and got the brushes ready, saying we should brush out all the mats first. As she was explaining the steps we should take, Little Dude decided to make his presence known. He came strutting out from somewhere in his box fort to meow out me. He then proceeded to rub up against Kat’s legs. She giggled at him, bending down to pick him up.

“Ooof, he is rank,” she said through a chuckle.

“I told you. I swear he rolled in something dead.”

She grimaced, moving him away from her body to sit him on the counter.

“He’s really pretty though. He seems young. Have you taken him to the vet yet?”

“Not yet. I’m working up to it. I didn’t wanna stress him out too much all at once…though…he seems strangely fine with everything. He’s the one that wants to move in,” I said - laughing quietly to myself over the absurdity of it.

Kat began to look him over, “He has some pretty bad mats under his arms, we may have to cut those. Do you have scissors? They aren’t too close to the skin, so I think I can cut them easily enough.”

“Uhh, yeah. I have a whole clipper kit with scissors. I’ll go get it.”

I ran to get the kit and was back within minutes to find Little Dude sprawled out on his back while Kat brushed at the hair on his stomach. He seemed to love the attention. I stood next to Kat, keeping him distracted with pets while she worked. She ended up cutting a lot of the mats out just to save time. After several minutes had passed, she turned to me, a concerned look on her face.

“What? Is something wrong?” I asked.

“I would say so. We have a major problem here.”

My stomach was suddenly in my throat. My mind now conjuring up the worst things, “What is it?”

She fought to hold back a laugh, “Dude is not a dude.”

My brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

She snorted, “There is no twig and berries down there. Dude is a Dudette.”

“Seriously? You’re joking?”

“Nope. Did you even check?”

“Do you see how much hair she has? I was just guessing. I couldn’t tell. It makes sense why she wouldn’t leave though…chics do love me.”

Kat snorted again, “Staaap. You’re so ridiculous.”

I chuckled, “At least now I know why I was getting the judgy looks.”

“Well, now you need to give her a proper name. Something cute…that is not Dudette.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to think about it. Damn.”

After a brief pause to laugh about our discovery. We continued. Luckily the cat’s top half wasn’t as bad, so Kat made quick work of it. Then we took a minute to prepare ourselves for the chaos of the bath. Strategizing on the best way to handle it if she freaked out. It turns out, we didn’t even need to do that. The cat apparently loved water, which blew our minds. She sat still, enjoying the massage we gave her as we worked the shampoo into her fur. She nearly fell asleep as I used the spray head to rinse her, occasionally pointing the stream in Kat’s direction just to be obnoxious. After reminding me that we had just gotten a spray tan, I stopped. She said I wouldn’t be able to endure her wrath if I made her streaky.

Once we got the Little Dudette clean and dry, I picked her up and brought her inside. I took a minute to show her where the litter boxes were, her beds, and her new cat tree. I sat her at the top of the cat tree, and she immediately began exploring it. Kat and I watched her for a few minutes, before Kat looked around the room.

“Hmmm…the plants could be an issue. I know some are poisonous to cats.”

My eyes widened. I hadn’t even thought about that. Damn I already suck at this cat dad stuff.

Kat pulled out her phone and found a list of toxic plants and let me look over it. I sucked air through my teeth, then moved to pick up the Aloe plant sitting on the end table, “Sorry Barb. Looks like you’re gonna be banished to the art studio.” I handed it to Kat, “Please hold Barb for a moment.”

She started laughing at me. I turned to grab the Cutleaf Philodendron that was sitting in the dining room. “You’re out too, Cutlet,” I said as I picked up the medium sized tropical plant.

“Follow me. We’ll put these away in another room.”

As we made our way through the house, I grabbed another Aloe plant that was sitting on a bookshelf. “Sorry, you’re out too, Spike.”

I could hear Kat snickering behind me as we ascended the stairs. Once we reached the door to my studio, I juggled the plants in my arms to turn the knob. I suddenly felt nervous for Kat to be in the space, but tried not to dwell on it as I pushed the door open with my foot. She followed me inside and set Barb down on the window sill next to Spike. I set Cutlet down on the desk. I’d have to find a spot for him later.

I could tell Kat wanted to explore the room, but she held back, shyly looking down at the ground instead. I was sure she could sense this was an extremely personal space for me and didn’t want to intrude.

“You can look around if you want.” I finally mustered up the courage to say. I trusted her enough to share this side of myself. Not many people got to see it.

Her eyes lit up with excitement, “Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

I nodded and gave her a small smile. Standing back to watch as she walked around the room looking at the various paintings leaned against the walls. Her eyes roamed over every surface, pausing to spend extra time on the sketches spread out on the tables and desk.

I hadn’t spent any time in this room since rehearsals started. I hadn’t had the time, and when I did, I was too tired. However, I suddenly had that nagging need to. There were images swirling in my head that I needed to get out onto a canvas. I was shocked to find they were colorful shades of purple and blue with hints of magenta. There was no black in sight. I knew the cause of the shift, it was Kat. She was my new muse. Replacing the self-hatred and unhappiness with her light. I wanted to paint her dancing with the fire in her eyes. I wanted to sketch all of my favorite parts of her - her lips, her eyes, the curve of her hips.

Seeing her in my home and how easily she could fit into my life was making me want things I never thought I would. I wanted her to be part of everything. My other half. I wanted to share my existence with her. Then reality set in. She still belongs to someone else, Bravo. Stop thinking like this.

I shook my head to clear it as she looked my way with a smile. I tried to return it, but it didn’t reach my eyes. She walked toward me, “Dieter, all of this is amazing. I-I don’t have any words. You’re so talented.”

My brow furrowed, I was suddenly feeling emotional. I murmured a quiet “thanks” to her as she turned to look around the room one last time before turning back to me, “Would you paint something…for me? I would love to have one.”

I gave her a genuine smile now, “Of course. I think I already have an idea for something.”

Our gazes locked for a moment, something unsaid lingering between us, but it passed. I motioned toward the door, “Well, would you like a tour of the rest of the place? I have a feeling you might enjoy my other sanctuary.”

She gave me a quizzical look, “Lead the way. You have me intrigued now.”

I snickered as we walked into the hallway and closed the door behind us. I led Kat down the hall to the room where I did everything else - music, reading, writing. It really was my other sanctuary. It was a large open room with glass doors that opened to the balcony overlooking the ocean. The espresso colored hardwood was covered by a deep navy and maroon Persian area rug. Floor to ceiling shelves lined one cream colored wall, full of books and scripts. Two leather chairs sat in one corner with two acoustic guitars perched on stands between them. Several other guitars hung on the wall nearby. Another wall of shelves housed my record collection. The old record player stood next to it, connected to vintage floor speakers. An espresso colored wicker hanging chair with a white cushion hung from the ceiling in the corner near the record player. An extra large white furry beanbag sat nearby, with a few deep yellow throw pillows on it. There were plants everywhere - large potted ones sitting on the floor, vines hanging from the ceiling, small succulents scattered throughout the shelves. A small writing desk sat against the wall next to the balcony doors. The few open spaces on the wall were home to more of my paintings. The center of the room was completely open. Aside from my studio, it was my favorite place to be.

When I opened the door and motioned for Kat to enter, her face shifted. A hint of a smile ghosted her lips as her eyes rounded and sparkled. She stood in the center of the room turning in a slow circle, taking in the space.

“Dieter…you’re right. I love this. Everything about it is perfect.”

She walked over to one of the paintings, an abstract sunset of black, deep blue, red, and yellow. It was a more recent one, not as dark as the ones downstairs. Her fingers grazed over the DB scrawled in the bottom corner. One side of her lip turned upward once she realized it was another one of my paintings. She turned, moving back toward the center of the room and spun around with her arms out.

“This room is huge…big enough we could rehearse in here.”

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip, biting back a smile. I loved that the thought had crossed her mind. That she wanted to be in this space with me.

“We could. There’s a lot of open space. I left it like that so I could come in here and paint if I wanted. Depending on the time of day, the lighting can be better here than in the studio. Plus, I can open the doors and hear the ocean. It’s soothing.”

She nodded, a pensive look on her face as she continued looking around the room.

“I take it you probably didn’t expect all this, huh?”

She shook her head as her brows pinched together, “No, honestly. I’m not sure what I expected, but strangely enough, I’m not surprised. I know you're not shallow and emotionless like the tabloids often make you out to be.”

She was standing in front of me now, her eyes roaming my face. “I see you, Dieter. I know you feel things deeply…even if you don’t always admit to it. So, it doesn’t surprise me that this is how you spend your time. Us tortured souls have to get the feelings out somehow.”

I couldn’t breathe. The way she was looking at me literally took my breath away. I knew without a doubt that she meant what she said. She did understand me better than anyone ever had because we were the same in a lot of ways, but complete opposites in others. We balanced each other out and fit together in a way that filled in each other's gaps to make a whole. We were meant to find each other, I could feel it in my bones. If only she could see that and finally get rid of the disease in her life that was Alec.

Kat’s face turned almost wistful as she stared at me for a beat. Finally turning away and moving toward the leather chairs in the corner and sitting down. She turned, eyeing the acoustic guitars sitting next to her.

She pointed, “Are these for decoration or do you actually play?”

I shrugged, “I guess you can call it that…I had to learn for a role many years ago. It kind of stayed with me after that.”

She raised a brow in my direction as her hand slid around the neck of the nearest instrument, “Do you mind…” she asked, pausing for my response.

Curious where this was going, I shook my head. “No, I don’t. Have at it.”

The way she handled it told me this was something she was familiar with. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears from excitement at the thought that she might play something. I shuffled over to sit in the seat next to her and picked up the other instrument as her fingers slid over the strings, like she was getting a feel for it. I bit back the anxious feeling that was forming in my chest and started plucking at the strings on the guitar I had just picked up. Playing chords for the first song that came to mind.

Kat watched me for a moment. Her eyes narrowed at my hands, “I know this song…”

I smiled up at her as she hummed along for a few seconds, trying to place it. She surprised me when she started to sing along.

She's the place I go / When there's nowhere left to run to / She's the one I hold / When there's no one to hold on to

I was awed by her. Her voice was amazing - soulful, velvety, and pure. She was so fucking beautiful it hurt. The moment caused something to swell inside of me, making me emotional. I had to take a deep breath to fight it back as I watched her place her fingers on the frets and start strumming along with me. She continued singing the chorus. Without thinking, I joined in, which elicited a brilliant smile from her.

She's been with me late at night / When I was drowning in the dark / She heard my every word / When I was pouring out my heart / So I thank my lucky stars / For every crack, scratch, and scar on this guitar

Our voices harmonized together perfectly, causing goosebumps to break out across my body. I suddenly felt connected to her in a way that I hadn’t before. I picked up the next verse as she continued playing with me.

She's given me her best / When I am at my worst / When I can't find the pieces / Fingers scratching in the dirt / She offers no forgiveness / 'Cause she likes to make it hurt

Her eyes stayed on mine. I could see the fire blazing in them again. I couldn’t help smiling as the words passed through my lips. She returned it as she joined back in for the chorus. We finished the reminder of the song with a flourish, breaking into laughter when it was done.

Once the laughter settled, I finally asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you played? And can sing for that matter?”

She shrugged, “It’s not really something I do a lot of anymore…Not since my dad passed. He taught me to play when I was younger…before things got bad with him. We picked it up again after he was sober.”

A sad smile formed on her lips, “He had a few friends he would play with on the weekends…pickin' and grinnin' is what they called it. Just a bunch of friends and their families hanging out in someone's backyard, having fun. I learned a lot from them.”

I had a sudden urge to hug her, but then the sparkle from that damn engagement ring on her finger caught my attention for the first time that evening. It was a stark contrast against the black bout of the guitar, silently screaming a reminder that she was still with the asshole. It broke through the delusional thoughts that had started to swirl around in my head the last few minutes.

I cleared my throat, “Well, you’re really good. I didn’t see that coming.”

She gave me a genuine smile now, “You’re not so bad yourself. Still excelling in all areas apparently.”

I had the sudden need to be away from her. I was feeling overwhelmed by my conflicting feelings. I glanced down at my watch, “Hmm…it’s getting late. We should probably call it a night. I don’t wanna be your excuse for being tired tomorrow.” I let out a nervous laugh.

She looked at her watch, “Oh damn. Yeah, it is…and I still have a 30 minute drive home.”

An awkward tension settled in the air as I placed the guitars back on their stands. We walked in silence down the stairs. Kat took a minute to give the kitty some scratches before collecting her purse and phone to leave. I asked her to let me know when she made it home as she leaned in for a side hug.

“I will…and thanks for dinner. It was amazing.”

When she pulled away, her hand lingered at my waist. She smiled before finally turning to walk toward her car. I kept an eye on her until she was locked inside and backing out of the driveway. This was getting to be too fucking hard.

I sighed, walking through the house to turn everything off and lock up for the night. The cat followed behind me every step of the way. Once I got settled in the bed, I felt her jump onto the mattress. She tentatively walked over and climbed up on my chest, purring into my hand as I scratched behind her ears.

“Maybe you're meant to be the only woman in my life. I should probably accept that and move on.”

Her eyes drooped under my touch. A quiet meow squeaked out in response. “I guess I should give you a proper name now, because Dude is not gonna cut it.”

I thought for a minute. A plant name might be cute, right? “How about poppy? Ehh, no. That might raise some eyebrows given who your dad is. Let’s avoid drug references…”

I laughed to myself. It was so ridiculous that I had to think about stuff like that.

“Hmm, how about Rosie? Na…that’s too girly. You’re kind of a bad ass critter catcher.”

She meowed loudly, almost like she was agreeing with me. I chuckled. “I’ve got it. Zinnia. Zee for short. That’s cool, right?”

She was asleep now. She could have cared less. “Zee it is. Zee my little warrior queen.”

I got a text from Kat a few minutes later, letting me know she got home. I sent her a thumbs up emoji then set the phone on its docking station for the night. I somehow managed to drift off to sleep.

I was woken up about ten minutes before my alarm went off by Zee, making biscuits in the crook of my arm and purring. I couldn’t even be upset about it because it was too fucking cute. This cat was already making me melt and had me wrapped around her paw. I nuzzled my face into her fur, she smelled so much better. It was nice to finally have her properly clean so I could cuddle her without being grossed out. I don’t know why I fought against having her for so long. It felt nice to have another living being in the house with me.

I finally rolled out of bed and took a quick shower. It was show day, so I couldn’t be dicking around this morning. I threw on clean shorts and a t-shirt, then headed out. I stopped to get our usual cups of coffee before heading to Television City Studios. Kat and I were one of the first groups there, determined to get the rough run through out of the way.

Kat was already chatting with the band when I walked in and handed her coffee over. We went through the routine a few times to get the camera blocking out of the way and gave feedback on the music. The other couples had started to filter in by the time we were on our last run through. I could see Alec sitting, waiting for his and Lana’s turn. I hadn’t seen him since the incident, so I wasn’t sure what the damage was. His face was pretty bruised up around the nose and under the eyes. I had to hold back the satisfied smile that was tugging at my lips as we walked by him.

Kat did take a minute to add some makeup to my knuckles. They were still a little bruised. We didn’t want the cast to see it if we could help it. After she finished, we headed into hair and makeup to get slathered in more makeup and hair gel.

Kat and I were seated next to each other again. We chatted with each other while they worked on us. I told her what I decided to name the cat. She laughed at first but wasn’t at all surprised that it was the name of a plant. She finally relented, admitting that it was cute and giving her seal of approval.

About 30 minutes after sitting down in the makeup chair, Anika approached me. She had a shy, but flirty smile on her face as she leaned against the vanity in front of my seat and purred out a “good morning.”

I smiled at her awkwardly, unsure of what was happening. Anika glanced toward Kat, then turned so that her back was toward her.

“What are you doing after the show tonight?” she finally asked.

I shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I suppose it depends on how tired I am.”

She laughed like I had just told the most hilarious joke. I now realized what was happening. Fucking hell. Please don’t do it.

Her hand rested on my knee, “How about we go out for drinks after? Maybe we can hang out for a bit.” She gave a suggestive squeeze with her fingers as she spoke.

I could tell from my reflection that I had the deer in headlights look. My brain completely shut down. I was not interested in the least. “Umm, I dunno. I really need to get home…and feed my cat.”

“Oh, come on, just one drink. You can do that after.”

It was Kat who responded with an agitated tone, “You do realize he’s sober, right?”

Anika looked surprised, then laughed nervously. “Well in that case, you can just watch me drink. You don’t have to have anything with alcohol.”

I sat there with my mouth agape, not really sure how to respond to that. I couldn’t stop anyone from drinking around me, but damn. If she was trying to win me over, that was not the way to do it.

“Are you a fucking idiot? He’s sober. He doesn’t wanna be around alcohol.” Kat was having none of this from her.

Anika huffed, “I don’t think I asked you, Katarina. Mind your business. Shouldn’t you be worried about what your own man is up to?”

I realized the ladies that had been doing our hair and makeup had stepped back. Kat looked like she was about to come up out of her seat after this girl. I cleared my throat, “Ummm thanks for the offer, Anika…but I think I’ll pass. Maybe another time?” I said nervously.

She gave me a disappointed look before flipping Kat off and walking out of the room.

Kat puffed air out of her cheeks, “Ugh, I fucking hate that girl.”

The ladies who were working on us snickered before continuing with their task.

I glanced over at Kat, “Thank you for that. I wasn’t really sure how to handle it.”

“Well, you better figure it out, because I’m sure she’s not done asking. Unless you wanna go out with her, of course.” Her tone was very clipped, and I wasn’t sure why. It surprised me. Did I do something wrong?

Kat was quieter after that, seemingly lost in her thoughts. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. It was making me feel off. I was happy when hair and makeup had finished with me. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I made a beeline for my dressing room to get changed into my costume. I didn’t hear from Kat for a while, assuming they had dress rehearsals for the group performances.

While I waited, I texted my assistant and asked him to bring me some brunch to pass the time. It was a little early for lunch, but I was already starving. A few minutes after he dropped off the food, I got a text from Kat, asking where I was.

Me: In my dressing room. I have 🌯🌯🌯. (three burrito emojis)

It wasn’t even a full minute before there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I managed to garble out through a mouth full of steak goodness. Kat pushed the door open, standing there with a disapproving look and her hands on her hips.

“You're hiding away to eat burritos? Really?”

My ability to speak left me as soon as I laid eyes on her. The only response I could muster was to hold out the extra burrito I had gotten for her. She looked fucking amazing in her costume. The hem was asymmetrical, showing off her toned legs. The shorter side revealed her entire right thigh. The front was lower cut than I had expected, showing the curve of her breast. From the sketches, I knew the back was non-existent. There was only enough of the fringy fabric to cover her ass. They had left her chestnut hair half down this time. The front of it was pinned back leaving the soft curls cascading down around her bare shoulders. The red shade of the dress, if you could even call it that, looked amazing against her golden skin and made her red lips pop. All of the exposed flesh definitely had little Bravo’s attention. It took everything in me to refocus my thoughts and get him under control.

She raised a questioning brow at me, a smirk forming on her lips as she took the burrito, “You OK, Bravo?”

I nodded as I swallowed down the food I had been chewing even though I wasn’t ready, nearly getting choked in the process. I coughed uncontrollably for a moment, then reached for my drink. I ended up dropping burrito juices on the robe I had put on over my costume.

Kat laughed, “Good thing you put the robe on. I wouldn’t want to explain that mess to the costumers or producers.”

After taking a long drink through the straw, I managed to get myself together enough to respond, “No kidding. I have an extra one hanging over there if you wanna use it while you eat. I know these are messy.”

“Why yes, I think I will. Thank you.”

Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to have passed. She was back to her normal smiley self as we rushed through our meal. It helped me feel a little more at ease and out of my head. Once I was finished with my burrito, I pulled the robe off, checking to make sure I hadn’t gotten anything on the costume. I turned to ask Kat if she saw any evidence left behind. I didn’t miss how her eyes looked me up and down before focusing on my shirt.

I couldn’t help teasing her, “You see something you like, Kit Kat?”

She narrowed her eyes at me, “I was just getting a look at your costume. I hadn’t seen it on you yet.”

I stood back, pulled the blazer open, and did a little spin for her, “You like?”

“Oddly enough…yes. The 70’s vibe suits you. I can’t believe you have it buttoned all the way up though. I was beginning to think you had a button allergy.”

I gave her a cocky grin, “If you wanna see a little more skin, just ask honey. I guess I probably should show a little more, in solidarity with you.”

She rolled her eyes before taking her last bite. I turned to the mirror and undid the top few buttons. I could see her watching me in the reflection, shaking her head with a smirk on her face. A few minutes later, we headed toward the ballroom for our final dress rehearsal. As we stood on the outer perimeter of the dance floor, Alec and Lana came to stand behind us to wait their turn. Kat seemed to be ignoring them, which was surprising. I couldn’t help glancing over at Alec. My mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as I took in his appearance.

“It looks like hair and makeup did a knockout job on you today, Alec. Can’t even tell that your face is fucked up.”

Kat snorted next to me, covering her mouth with her hand to hold back the laugh. I was surprised to see that Lana also had a hint of a smile on her lips.

Alec sneered, “Don’t get too excited, Bravo. You didn’t hit me that hard…nothing is broken.”

I gave him a toothy smile, “Nothing but your pride, right?”

“Fuck you, Bravo.”

Kat turned to me, placing her hand on my chest, “That’s enough, you two. Shut up or I’ll throat punch both of you.”

I was still smiling when I muttered a quick “sorry” her way.

She gave me a playful wink that Alec couldn’t see before looping her arm with mine, forcing me to turn away from him. We were called to go through our routine soon after that. We nailed it the first time through. The lightning, music, and camera angles fell into place perfectly for us. We went through it two more times just to be sure.

I don’t really know what came over me, I assumed it was because Alec was glaring at me the entire time, but I made sure to turn the flirtiness of our routine up a few notches. Kat didn’t seem to mind, meeting me where I was. Not that it was all an act. The way the fringy dress accentuated her hip movements really did almost have me on my knees. The woman’s body moved in ways that my brain could not handle.

I have to admit, I was getting a small thrill out of knowing Alec was seeing how good Kat and I were together. I didn’t want to make things harder on her, but he really did need to be put in his place. He needed to know that Kat was desirable.

I could feel the static crackling in the air between me and Kat as we walked off the dance floor, hand in hand. She had that look in her eyes again while we waited for final feedback. We were given the all clear to head to our final fitting after that. Kat kept hold of my hand the entire time. Only dropping it as soon as we ran into Stacia and Joe in the hallway. We moved to walk around them, but Stacia stopped us. I noticed she looked both of us over before she spoke to Kat, “Care to share what happened to Alec’s face?”

Kat’s eyes widened slightly, “What did Alec say happened to his face?”

Stacia’s eyes narrowed, “He didn’t…just said he’s clumsy.”

I worked to keep my face neutral, but I really wanted to laugh at the absurdity of everything.

Kat gave her a tight lipped smile, “Well, I won’t argue with that. He is clumsy.”

“So, you’re not gonna spill the details?” Stacia prodded.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the details. He was fine the last time I saw him…so I can’t help you there.”

I could tell by the way Stacia was looking at Kat that she didn’t believe her. It was almost like they were having some sort of standoff now, eyes locked in an intense gaze. Stacia’s eyes finally shifted over to me, her head tilting slightly. “How about you, Dieter? Do you know what happened to his face?”

I shrugged, “What makes you think I would know anything? I hardly see the guy.”

Stacia studied my face for a moment, almost like she was trying to read if I was lying. Her lips eventually turned upward into a smirk, “Well, good luck you two. Your dress rehearsal looked perfect. You’ve really turned up the heat this week. I’m sure the viewers are gonna love it.”

Joe stood by smiling like the Cheshire Cat through this entire interaction. Only mumbling a quiet “Good luck” as they walked away. Kat and I gave each other wide-eyed looks as we turned to head toward the wardrobe department for our final fitting. Once the fitting was done, we stopped in for hair and makeup touch ups. Kat had to go change for the opening performance while I went to the staging area to wait.

Since I skipped out on watching the group dress rehearsals, this was my first time seeing it. I remembered Stacia saying that they were going to put more attention on Kat, but I didn’t realize how much. She was the performance. Everyone else might as well have been background dancers. She worked the room and the cameras like no other and had the audience going crazy. She was magnetic and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

I lost interest once she was off the dance floor, opting to scroll through social media on my phone instead. I went down a rabbit hole of hashtags for the show, curious what people were saying. Kat was indeed a hot topic, and it was mostly positive. They fucking loved her and that made me happier than it probably should have. I definitely felt like Stacia was getting a heavy dose of karma after insinuating that Kat wasn’t that good in the beginning.

I eventually came across a Dieter and Kat hashtag. I thought twice about clicking it but did so anyway. There were apparently a lot of shippers for us out there. It now made more sense why Stacia and Joe were pushing that narrative. I was honestly surprised at the support for it. Usually, my fans flipped the fuck out anytime I was linked to any sort of serious romantic partner, but they seemed ok with this. I saw Kat coming in my periphery, so I hit the hashtag ‘follow’ button then locked my phone just as she made it over to me.

We were buzzing with anticipation as we awaited our turn. Kat hooked up her earbuds to her phone, “You ready for some hype music?”

I nodded, “What’s it gonna be today? Eye of the Tiger?”

She chuckled, “Oh no. I only pull out the big guns when it’s serious.”

She handed me one bud and my ear was immediately filled with the familiar guitar riffs of Walk this Way by Aerosmith and Run DMC. “Yaaaaaas! I approve!” I said with a wide grin. She laughed, bobbing her head to the beat while my fingers played the chords on my air guitar. It was exactly what we needed to get hyped up.

Before we knew it, it was our turn. I was strangely calm as we stepped out onto the dance floor and took our places. Kat’s confidence and sparkling eyes seemed to keep me grounded in the moment as the spotlight dropped down on her. I stood off to the side in the darkness, waiting until it was time to join her. She opened with the flirty strut and hip shaking thing she does so effortlessly before I came into the light, playing the lovesick puppy matching her every move while she shimmed and gyrated around me. There were a couple of instances where there was no space between us as our bodies moved as one to the beat. Kat’s cheek rested against mine, our fronts pressed together, our bodies twisting downward before popping back up for me to dip her backwards. She pushed me away dramatically before we transitioned into a lock step sequence followed by cross over breaks and a chase with full turns. We ended with a flourish as I spun Kat around and dipped her backward again, this time pulling her leg upward into our ending pose.

When the lights dimmed, I pulled Kat upward and hugged her against me as she bounced up and down. Her arms wrapped around my neck as her cheek pressed firmly against mine. “I swear, that was fucking perfect. We killed it,” she said loud enough for me to hear it. I could feel her hot breath against my ear as she spoke. I couldn’t help burying my face in her neck for a brief moment. I inhaled her scent quickly, it was sweet like berries and a spring day. I didn’t want to let go, but I had to. The producers were finally getting what they wanted, our whole interaction since stepping foot on the dance floor was over the top flirty and sexy. More so than it had been during rehearsals as we continued matching each other’s energy, not holding anything back. If the connection between us continued to grow like this every week, it was only a matter of time before something happened between us. Having this much chemistry was unsustainable in its current form.

While I did my interview and waited for the scores, Kat stood hugging me around the middle with both arms. I wrapped one of mine around her and pulled her tightly into my side.

The judges didn’t really have any feedback for us. They mostly gushed about the sexiness of the performance and how in sync we were with each other. Noting that we probably had a stronger connection than any other couple on the show this season. My head was spinning from the adrenaline of it all before we even got our scores. My knees felt like they were going to give out as they started calling out the numbers. They gave us two 8’s and two 9’s. Kat and I were both in shock as we stood with our mouths agape. She had to give me a little shake to bring me back down to earth as the host asked how I was feeling about having the highest score of the night.

Afterwards, we walked back to the staging area with smiles on our faces. Several cast members congratulated us as we passed by. We found a spot in the back corner, away from the others. Kat pulled me in for another hug, “That is the highest score I have ever gotten. I think I’m in shock.”

I chuckled, “I know, I’m in shock. That was…wow. I have no words.”

“We should celebrate with a big greasy burger after this,” she said with a toothy grin.

I nodded, my hand still resting on Kat’s hip after she pulled away from the hug. Her hand sat on the back of my shoulder as she leaned into my side. We stayed like that while watching the next couple’s performance. The energy was still buzzing between us when we were interrupted by Alec. I noticed his eyes drop down to where my hand was on Kat, anger briefly flashed across his face, but he managed to compose himself.

“Kat, can we talk for a minute?” he finally asked.

Her lips set into a tight line before she finally nodded and pulled away from me. He’s not really gonna do this now, is he?

They moved further away into the back corner, but I could still hear him begging her for another chance. I rolled my eyes, trying not to listen, but I honestly couldn’t help it.

“Baby, please, I swear. I’m not gonna fuck up again. I’m really gonna try to do better. I went to an AA meeting yesterday. I haven’t drank at all since that night. I feel terrible and I realize I can’t keep acting like this. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m still going to anger management, I’ll do therapy too if that’s what you really want. Please, I’ll do anything.”

I chanced a glance in their direction, Kat looked like her resolve was breaking. Fucking asshole. He was saying all the right things and I bet he didn’t mean a word of it.

“Alec, I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know baby, I don’t blame you. Just one more chance, please.”

Kat sighed, “OK. This is the LAST time though. You fuck up again and I’m done. It’s on you. You hear me?”

I didn’t even hear Alec’s response. I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. I had gotten my hopes up - let my fantasies of her being mine run wild and infect my senses. I felt dizzy for a different reason now, realizing my breathing was turning shallow.

My attention was drawn back to Kat when I heard my name.

“You need to get over whatever your issue is with Dieter. He’s done nothing wrong and doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. I’m not gonna put up with it. I want you to apologize for trying to hit him. That was on you.”

I don’t want his fucking apology.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just let me come home with you tonight. Please? So, we can talk, and I can show you how sorry I am. Let me make it up to you.”

She puffed air through her cheeks before nodding, “Fine. Whatever.”

I felt sick. I needed to leave. It felt like the walls were closing in on me and everything was suddenly too loud. Sweat was beading at the nape of my neck and running down my back. I felt like I was gonna have a fucking panic attack.

I turned to leave, nearly bumping into Kat who was now holding Alec’s hand at her side. I just stared at them wide-eyed. I could see the concern on Kat’s face, but I didn’t care.

“Dieter man, listen…I’m sor…” Alec started to say.

“Save it. I don’t want your fucking apology.”

I glanced down at Kat, “Enjoy your evening. I’m not feeling well, I need to go.”

I could hear Kat calling after me as I left the staging area and moved toward my dressing room. I quickly changed out of my costume and stuffed it into the dry cleaning bag, sitting it outside my door for pickup. I closed the door behind me and locked it. I sat down in the chair, my head in my hands as I fought to control my breathing. The tears pooled in my eyes as I tried to reason through why I was reacting like this. It wasn’t normal. The hurt was too much.

I was startled from my thoughts by a loud knock on the door.

“Dieter, are you in there?” It was Kat. I didn’t answer her.

My phone buzzed with several incoming text messages. They were from her, but I didn’t bother to look at them. I couldn’t.

I exhaled slowly, running my hands down my face. What is my fucking problem? It was then that the realization finally hit me. I was in love with her. “Fuck.”

Next: Week 4

A/N: Y'all ready to come at me with pitchforks? Don't worry, it won't last long. Alec is a class A fuck up. You know it's only a matter of time. So, there was a lot that went down in this chapter. Now that you've read Dieter's side, who do you think is down worse, Dieter or Kat? There was a lot of flirty banter in this chapter and I am here for it. Do we think Kat was intentionally flirting? What do we think about them singing together? I can confirm, this will not be the only time that happens... We got a small glimpse of plant dad and cat dad Dieter in this part. Are we swooning yet? How much did we love Dieter being a smart ass to Alec during dress rehearsals? I feel like we need more snarky Dieter. What about Dieter's revelation at the end? How do you think that is going to affect his interactions with Kat going forward? Now for some fun stuff... a big shout out to @readingiskeepingmegoing for introducing me to one of the music artist featured in this chapter. I. AM. OBSESSED. The three songs referenced in this chapter are linked below as well as their performance song. I have also included another fun Cha Cha video that I took inspo from.

youtube

CP Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept

@survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love

@readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981

@guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty

@rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte

@timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime

@copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75

@bunniboo0015 @quicax3 jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @pedrostories

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @senorabond

👉 If your name is marked out, it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter #soft dieter #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo x ofc #closed position series #Spotify

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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 7

Warnings: oh boy okay so Angst! profanity! Violence! Mentions of blood! Injury! Abusive-ish behavior!!! MARTIN!!!!!! Ferran! Blackmail!! Just shitty behavior!!!! pls don't read if you're not comfortable!

Word Count: 14.1k (fun fact! If you've read all 7 parts, you've read 87 pages single space!)

A/N: Guys this is one of the chapters I had planned out from the beginning. I really have poured a lot of my own soul into this, so I hope y'all enjoy! I'm actually so ready to read the reactions to this one lol. GIF by @rubendiasatl

You thought you had met the love of your life in college. He appeared to be perfect. He was the captain of the swim team, rumored to get a national championship that year in the 100m freestyle. He was the secretary of Phi Pi Delta, the largest business fraternity in the region, set to work on Wall Street making $200k right after graduation. You two were the perfect couple: Ryan, with his perfect hair and perfect smile, the sexy, sporty Spanish girl on his arm. You were conquering medicine as he ruled the world of finance. Sometimes on your walk to class, you would daydream about what your wedding would look like.

You did everything that was required of you as "Ryan's girl". You were an academic badass, but in a completely different field, so he could have a smart girl that would never be his competition. You worked as a sports manager, showing that "Ryan's girl" was a powerhouse on her own that commanded respect, but turned into a shy little lamb around her man. You worked hard and played harder, going to every PPD event and mixer. You always drank to show people that you weren't a prude, but you were never the girl hunched over the toilet losing her innards. You were good at beer pong, but only when Ryan was your partner. You played 7 minutes in heaven, but were so cold and intimidating that everyone left with blue balls and a muttering of "what a bitch". For 8 months of your senior year, you were "Ryan's girl", and you were the absolute best at playing the part.

It was a tiring job, but one you balanced with all your other actions. You learned how to get him and his friends basketball tickets mere hours before tipoff. You were an expert at covering hickies, but also enhancing them when he wanted to prove to the guys at a rival frat that he wasn’t soft. You killed your complaints and your gag reflex, knees growing used to the rough carpet of the frat house. You never asked for his location, and never made a face when other girls talked about how much they wanted your man. You never bored him with talks of your futures after graduation. You were perfect.

You looked perfect the day you walked into the frat house, hair pulled back in a slick ponytail to show off the piercings in your ear and the tightness of your polo shirt. Your khakis hugged your thighs, Jordan’s pristine as you slipped them off before heading upstairs. The basketball team had offered you a full time position; you could stay for the next several years if you so chose. Everything was perfect. The sky was the perfect shade of blue. The air was the perfect temperature with a perfect breeze. And as you opened the door to your boyfriend’s room, you saw a bare figure on top of him, connected at their cores, with her mouth shaped in a perfect “O”. And one perfect tear ran down your cheek as you silently walked back down the stairs, ignoring the yells about it not being what it looked like, and left Ryan behind forever.

You hadn’t thought about Ryan in years. But his memory came back to you as you pulled up to Martin’s house and found his car parked out in front of his door instead of it’s usual place in the garage. The Benz stared back at you, looking so different from that first date. It had been bright and welcoming and joyous that very first time it rolled up in front of your building. Now it was different, the blue taking on a more hue, feeling ominous and serious. It was the color of midnight - the color of fear. Why was the precious Benz parked out front? Martin wouldn't even let some valets park his car for fear of it getting scratched. His tires were still turned. The Benz was crooked in the driveway.

You walked up to the door, and you thought about Ryan again. You thought about the countless texts he sent you afterwards, telling you how much he loved you and how he would never do it again. And you read every single one, waiting with baited breath for him to say what you needed to hear: that he regretted it. That he had made a terrible mistake when he was out of his mind and he hated every second. But it never came. He wanted you, but he never regretted that moment with her. He never felt remorse about the moment he decided she was more important than you were. It didn't make you sad or angry - just empty. It was like a hold had been carved out, and it was another reminder that it would never be filled. You would never be the first choice. You would never be that girl that was above it all. You would always be a pretty good girl that needed to be supplemented by someone else.

The hole within you had not been filled, but it started to be covered by some good people in your lives. Your friends at your physiology program made you always feel competent and capable in what you were doing in school. Angelika and your other university friends gave you comfort, covering the emptiness with warm feelings. And now, you had the boys at Barca had worked to cover that hole with positive affirmations, reminding you that you were just as much a part of the team and how much you were valued. And there was a bit of the hole that started to close, one centimeter at a time, every time you looked at your phone and saw that Gavi was checking up on you.

You felt that hole fill with butterflies as you wrote out your Christmas card to him. You hadn't wanted it to come across as cheesy or desperate, despite you reassuring yourself that you couldn't be desperate if you were in a relationship. You had begged the media team for any photo of you and Gavi, knowing how much the sentiment would mean to him. One thing you had noticed during your two brief appearances in Pablo's home was his appreciation for the few pictures he had. They were taped to the wall beside the door: photos from his youth at his La Masia matches, his family on vacation, and a polaroid with a few of the Barca boys. A part of you hoped you would make it onto the wall.

But with each knock on Martin's door that went unanswered, the butterflies disintegrated, filling you with smoke and ash and bile, the hole in your very soul aching. As you turned the doorknob, you felt it give way easily - the door was unlocked. He had come home, car parked haphazardly, with the door remaining unlocked. You braced yourself, not exactly sure for what, and entered the house.

You should have seen it coming. You should have known from his demeanor and the way he spoke to you when you were with him versus when you were away. You should have listened to the whispers on the internet and in the locker room. But you ignored it all, believing that people were inherently good and caring. And now your naivety had all culminated and led to this moment: you standing in Martin's entryway, staring at his hideous brown couch, a trail of clothes leading from your feet to the naked girl perched on the dark fabric. The two of you locked eyes, and her mouth dropped agape. She grabbed the closest piece of fabric to cover her bare form, her pale cheeks turning scarlet from embarrassment.

"Bonita, hurry up so I can call my girl-"

Martin's eyes locked with yours, stopping dead in his tracks and freezing as his girl on the couch did. You waited for either of them to speak. With baited breath you waited for the feminine screams of "you have a girlfriend?" and the begs to provide an explanation. But the air was heavy with nothing but guilt and the disappointment of being caught. As your breath grew heavier, the nausea settled into your stomach. You tried to muster a tear, deciding it would be less embarrassing to cry than to throw up on the tile.

"Bonita, it's not what it looks like. If we could just talk-"

"How are you going to use the same pet name for the both of us?" You asked, patience finally snapping. The emotions from the last four months came flooding through, boiling the blood in your veins. You had cut yourself up and torn your very being apart to please this man. The things you wore and said and did and ate and enjoyed were all altered to fit his impossible standard. You were playing a part again. You had sacrificed so much of yourself for one crumb of affection and security, and once again you weren't enough.

"Just calm down an let me explain."

You tried with every fiber of your being to keep the tears at bay - you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt you.

"All I ever did was try and be a good girlfriend. Do you realize that? Through the stupid dinner dates and your rants about football, I tried to be patient and fun and understanding. I never complained, not once, about your lack of support or how everything you did made it clear you didn't like me. I dealt with all of your cold fronts, your unfounded jealous, your below mediocre sex - all of it, because that's what you do when you're in a fucking relationship until someone finally cuts the cord and frees you both. But you didn't have the decency to pretend." You spat the words out at him, no longer caring about if you cried.

"The least you could do was not fuck anyone else in the house that you asked me to move in to."

Everyone on the room had gone silent, from Martin to his mistress. How could he retaliate? Where could he start? The flood gates had been opened, and the realization of how much this man made you hate your life was flowing freely.

"Goodbye Martin." You turned and walked out the door, your keys in hand, ready to go home and lose consciousness. Tomorrow you would wake up and be as you were - single and free of the burden this relationship placed on you.

"Come back here." You heard Martin's voice shout behind you, before a hand reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, ripping your keys from your hands, cutting your palm in the process. As the red fluid pooled in your palm, you looked up at Martin in shock and fear. He looked back at you, then at your outstretched hand still pooling with blood.

"Shit, I'm- I didn't mean to do that. But you can't just drive away until you let me speak. I won't let you."

"As if you're allowed to decide what I can and can't do. Give me back my keys before I call the police."

"You're not calling anyone or doing anything until I speak to you." Martin said, lunging at you and grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. You cried out and struggled against him as he tried to pull you towards the house, hoping to prevent a scene in front of the neighbors. Martin's side piece stood at the door, now fully clothed, watching silently as the two of you struggled by the entryway.

"Get off of me you cheating sack of shit! I don't want to hear anything you have to say, let me go!" His grip loosened as you pulled away, unable to restrain you with both hands for fear you would take your car keys back.

"Bonita, I'm not trying to hurt you, I love you and I-"

"Bullshit! And stop calling me fucking bonita." You tried to reach for your keys again, but Martin's hand came and wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt.

"No. You don't get to abandon me without hearing what I have to say. All I have ever done is try and look past how difficult you are to love and be around," his grip tightened on your collar, the fabric now bunching to restrict your airway slightly. "And now that I've made one mistake you think you get to just run? You're not going anywhere until I say you can. If you know what's good for you, you'll just listen."

The bile started to rise in your throat as your heart beat faster. For the first time in your life, you really felt like you were in danger. The sting of your palm was hard to ignore now, the blood nestling into the lines on your palm, dots littered across your pant leg. Once you felt Martin's grip loosen lightly, you put all your weight behind you and shoved him as hard as you could, causing him to fall backwards. You bolted for the door, keys forgotten as you ran at a speed you didn't know you were capable of.

The fall did not deter him for long, as you heard your name in Martin's deep, agitated voice carry to your ears on the night air, accompanied by heavy, fast footsteps. You were being chased. Heart racing, your feet slammed against the pavement, trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Your throat started to tighten with anxiety, fight or flight now in full control. You didn't even know where you were going. You took whatever turn felt natural, willing yourself not to turn around.

Martin realized with every step he took that it was too late to turn back. There was now street camera of him chasing you shirtless through the streets of a Barcelona neighborhood. He wasn't even sure why he had done it. By it he meant the chasing - not the sleeping with other women. That part was quite simple. He was 24 now, and it was time he was photographed with the same girl more than once. His club going days had become the topic of every family dinner and every call with his mother.

"Martin, when are you going to stop going to the club every night and actually bring us a nice girl? You're ruining your reputation by taking all these different girls home."

He was nothing if not a boy that wanted to make his mother happy. When he say Angelika in the club that day, he sensed he had been getting close. She was funny and outgoing and actually had a job that didn't involve her sponsoring Bang energy on the internet. But she was still at the club on a Tuesday night, and had flirted her way into the VIP section. Too high maintenance. But then as he left the club, pretty young drunk thing slung over his arm, he got to see you.

Initially, you didn't make a huge impression. Boring looking and kind of loud - not the girl he would usually go for. He was still a little hazy from the club air, sweat and tequila still lingering in his lungs. He had just handed Angelika off to you, before he took a look at the back of your car. A few stickers were there, displaying the name of your universities, and a bright blue one that read 'ask me about ACL tears!'. It sparked his interest - not only that you could afford the car, but that you were obviously decently intelligent to be touting all these universities. It prompted Martin to ask for your number, just as a backup in case finding a "good girl" was harder than he thought.

It was, in fact, much harder than he thought to find a girl to bring home to his mother. All the smart girls tended not to give him the time of day, either taken or too busy. Pretty girl were too expensive and high strung - not what he needed. And those sweet girls that he found at the supermarket and the park? Most of them were ready to live the football WAG life, wanting to go public with him immediately. If there's one thing Martin was sure of, it was that he wasn't ready too commit to just one screw for any period of time. He had a rotation of girls in and out of his bed, shower, car - he couldn't just cut all of them off.

That's exactly what was on his mind when he saw Angelika in line for the club again. She was cute enough to take home that night, but girls usually didn't open up without some conversation. He can't remember how the topic turned to you, but Angelika gushed about how much she adored you.

"But she's just so busy. She's always so focused on work that she doesn't have much time to even process what's going on around her."

Getting you was quite easy after that. He had listened to girls long enough to understand how to keep them happy. It was the lack of instant sex that really hurt his pride. This was not the 1940s - he was not going to wait 3 months, taking a girl out and showering her with love, just to get some pussy. He would just supplement with other women. Ferran was often the person that would help him get girls, as they usually recognized the young Barca bench boy before they realized who Martin was. So they worked as a team: Martin supplying money and alcohol, and Ferran supplying girls.

It was when Gavi started to enter the picture that he, for the first time in his life, felt the angry weeds of jealousy take root in his throat. No matter what he did behind closed doors, you were his, not Gavi's, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let a love-sick teenager take his girl. Now he was chasing you down the street, 10 days before he planned to introduce you to his mother at Christmas, willing all the neighbors to stay away from the windows and ignore the eventual screams they heard from the street.

Your eyes focused, the adrenaline fog leaving your brain as you wildly scanned the street: this was Gavi's neighborhood. Identifying the houses, you made a sharp right turn and ran towards his house at end of the street. You prayed that he was still awake as you got to the door, banging as hard as you could, and yelling out his name.

"Pablo! Let me in! Get the fuck away from me!"

You watched as Martin slowed down, walking towards you cautiously with his hands in the air. He moved his lips to say something, but your heartbeat was in your ears, tears streaming down your face as you kept banging on the door. The slit across your palm seared with pain, and every pang circulated more fear through you. Martin was capable and willing to hurt you.

The door opened, and you caught a glimpse of Gavi's face. That was enough reassurance for your legs to give out from the effort, sobs still shaking your entire being as you fell into his chest. Your palms grabbed at his shirt, needing anything to ground you in reality. Gavi was not a large boy; Martin had 5 inches and 6 years on Gavi, which would make any betting man wary of the outcome if a fight were to break out. But none of that mattered to you. Gavi's arms were around you, holding you up and against him, and you felt safe.

Gavi tore his eyes away from Martin, who was shirtless and frozen in his walkway, to look at you. As he pulled you away from his chest slowly, he felt a warm wet spot spread across his shirt. It was too large to be tears. He wished he hadn't looked down to see the red spot darkening his t-shirt. Grabbing your wrists, he looked at the jagged cut on the skin there, still bleeding freely. Gavi hugged you closer into his chest, one hand around your waist and one by your head, hiding you in his shoulder as you continued to cry.

"What did he do?" He asked, voice tight and strained. You shook your head, crying harder, trying to gulp down any air to stop the light-headedness. You could not see or think straight, the questions too overwhelming.

"Pablito, just let me talk to my girl, and go back inside." Martin instructed, walking towards the two of you slowly, as a hunter would approach a deer. You clung onto Gavi tighter, a shrill 'No!' yelped against his skin, sobs coming back in full force. Gavi couldn't stand it. The blood in his veins grew hotter the longer he held your fragile form. He was quick to anger, but this was different. You had run to his house crying and bleeding because of the vile man you had been dating. On an average day, he was ready to go to blows because of a stray leg in a football match. This was more serious - more sinister. He had hurt you in ways Gavi couldn't fathom a man hurting any woman, let alone you. He turned over the idea of manslaughter in his head as he tried again.

"Please, y/n. Please tell me what he did. Because at this rate, I'm going to kill him. Y/n, please."

Gulping down breath after desperate breath, you muttered out what had happened to Gavi in the best way you could. You knew there was nothing you could say to get Gavi to just walk away, but you couldn't stand the idea of Pablo doing irreparable damage to his future on your behalf.

"Found him... cheating... took my... k-keys.. that's why m-my hand. But I'm-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're okay." Gavi put you down on the ground, resting your back against the wall before he stood. The edges of his vision were dark and red, and in that moment he swore he could have killed Martin with his bare hands. When would this man have taken enough? Martin had snatched you off the market, keeping you hostage in a crumbling, decaying relationship while Gavi fawned over you. Martin chipped away at you soul, dimming the once radiant light that enamored those you encountered. Martin made you insecure and self-hating, all while keeping a line of girls wrapped around his bedroom to fool around with as you chased your dreams. Martin had taken everything Gavi had loved about you and poisoned it, leaving the ashes of a bright young woman in his path. Now he would pay for it.

"Martin, give me her keys and get the fuck away from my property before I make your mother regret the day she lost her virginity." Gavi was seething, You looked up at his squared shoulders and tight face, and couldn't tell if the wisps of smoke emanating from him were real or not. You wanted to stand, block the warpath Pablo was on, and prevent the violence you knew was about to ensue, but your head and eyes felt heavy, keeping you firmly planted to the ground.

"Ay, Pablito, no need to be vulgar. Don't you think it's silly for you to be involving yourself in a little lover's quarrel at this time? Go inside and let me take care of my girlfriend." Martin took a step with every word he said, now less than a meter from Gavi, whose fists were curled and strained.

"Lover's quarrel? She's bleeding and had to run from you screaming. You've stolen her keys and now you want me to let you harass her further? Give me her keys and fuck off, before my patience runs out. Because I've been eager to bash your skull for weeks now."

Martin took another step forward, now on the same plane as you and Gavi. He locked Pablo's vision as he pulled your keys from his pocket, tossing them at your feet. You flinched at the noise scared to look up at Martin. Just the sound of his voice sent ripples through you.

"There, bonita. You have your keys back. Now enough of this nonsense and come with me." A fist curled into your hair and pulled you upwards, causing a scream to release from your throat. Gavi watched all of this happen in slow motion. He took two steps towards Martin, vision now fully red, and connected his closed fist with Martin's lower jaw. The accompanying CRACK could probably have been heard all the way in Madrid. The grip had disappeared from your head, and you used your last bit of strength to push yourself from the floor and run into Gavi's house, keys firmly in your grasp for protection. You peered through the window, catching Martin spit out a large glob of blood, more crimson dripping from his mouth like a dog drooling.

Martin wasn't provided much more time to recover as Gavi grabbed his collar, pulling him in once again, and again cracking him hard right beneath his eye socket. The delicate skin there split, and more blood oozed from Martin. It didn't bring Gavi disgust or joy. There was no space in his entire being to feel anything other than the need to protect you. Moving his grasp from Martin's collar to his hair, he hit him one final time, a bone split and a scream polluting the otherwise silent air of the Barcelona night. You thought to yourself, rather ironically, if the naked girl in his living room knew how to set a broken nose. Pablo pushed Martin to the ground, the older landing on his face sprawled across the concrete of the pavement.

"If you get up and you're not running, I'll break another bone."

Martin struggled to breath, the blood running away from his body in rivers, dripping onto the street.

"You little piece of shit! Just wait till I call the police! You'll be in jail until you're 70. You little cunt." Martin wailed, on his knees gripping his throbbing fractured nose. Gavi approached Martin, picking him up by the collar once again. It was quite a sight to behold: the younger and smaller boy lifting Martin off the ground, blood dripping from a broken nose on to Gavi's tensed forearm, as his hazel eyes conveyed murderous intent.

"In case the blood has already left your brain, allow me to remind you: the cameras saw you chasing a woman through the street. There is a decent amount of her blood on you and at your house. Everything from that moment on is self defense. And I can absolutely afford a better lawyer than you can, little boy. So best run and put some ice on that nose before you become more permanently deformed than you were originally." Martin was thrown to the pavement once again, cries of pain bouncing between the stone of the buildings. He picked himself off the ground, not daring to glance over his shoulder, as he hobbled back home.

Gavi took a deep breath, looking down at his hands in the light of the street lamp. It had been a long time since his anger was allowed to run wild. Usually there was a player (or 6) holding him back from blows. But that was football. Nothing was ever that serious in football. This was different. It was you. And as he entered his home, locking eyes with your huddled form by his couch, the thought appeared in his mind clear as crystal: you were someone he would kill for, and someone he would die for.

But now wasn't the time for such a confession. It was the time for Gavi to step up as your friend and provide you with comfort and support. He walked into the house and started to head for the bathroom before you called out to him.

"Pablo? Where are you going?" Your voice was small and fragile, like that of a scared child when the thunder got too loud. Keys still gripped tightly in shaky hands, you pushed yourself off the floor, and Gavi rushed to meet your stride, helping stabilize you as you stood. You were not close to fainting anymore, but the fear still pumped through you, making it harder to walk at more than a snail's pace. Eyes locking with Gavi's, you brought a hand up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it lightly to provide him with some reassurance that you were okay. Hand trailing down, you wrapped your fingers gently around his wrists, turning his hands over to look at his knuckles. The skin had cracked and burst from the impact against Martin's skull. Bruises bloomed on the high points, droplets of blood - owner unknown - littered his fingers and hand, the scarlet a contrast against his warm tan. As you ran a thumb over one of the open cuts, Gavi hissed, trying to pull away from your touch. You looked back up at him with tears welling in your eyes anew.

"You're hurt." You croaked out, not wanting to continue crying in front of him. He grabbed your hand, holding it against his as he rubbed over the drying cut through your palm.

"So are you. But we'll be okay." He smiled at you, and you could have sworn that there was an actual fist squeezing your heart in your chest. He pulled you towards the staircase with him.

"Come on, we need to wash our hands. You've taught me enough about infections to know we shouldn't wait much longer."

"I obviously haven't taught you enough, because for open cuts like this we need rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, not water."

Gavi stopped on the stairs, still gripping your wrist as his smile broke out, returning warmth to his face. Even when he had hit Martin, you hadn't feared Pablo. You knew the anger was residual, and he would never turn this harbored rage your direction. It had brought a few baby butterflies to your stomach, knowing that Gavi had thrown his tranquility and caution to the wind just to defend you. But this was the Pablo you liked the most: the one that smiled for you in a way that seemed to appear only when you were around.

"There you go, doctora. Putting that degree to use. I think I have a first aid kit in my room. The medics gave me one to keep after I got my second black eye." The statement, not meant as a joke, allowed a laugh to run through you, cutting through some of the lingering heaviness. You wondered if this experience would forever trauma-bond you to Gavi forever. But you knew subconsciously that Pablo was already bonded to you. You would never be able to look at the Barca crest or the dew on the grass or the chocolate milk in the store without thinking of Pablo. You would never be able to choose anyone else's contact at 2am to send a random text to, because you need Pablo to be the one to send the response. You knew in that moment that Pablo was going to be in your life forever.

Walking into his bedroom, Pablo peeled his blood-stained shirt off, tossing it onto the bed.

"You should..." Your sentence trailed off as Pablo faced you, shirtless with sweats hanging low on his hips, waistband of his boxers tight against the V of his torso. You had seen attractive men shirtless before, but something about it being Pablo, and the two of you being alone in his bedroom, made everything seem more charged and, for lack of a better term, sinful. He tiled his head in questioning, prompting you to finish your sentence. Clearing your throat, you looked at the shirt instead of Pablo and continued.

"You should put peroxide on that shirt now to get the blood out so it doesn't stain."

"I think getting some peroxide on your open wound is more important right now." He said, returning to his dresses to rummage around for his first aid kit. You stood awkwardly against the wall, unsure how to proceed. You didn't feel comfortable enough to sit on his bed, and though it would be weird to seat yourself on Gavi's floor. He turned back around, watching you scan the room and calculate if you should sit or stand.

"You're covered in blood." He said. You looked down at your shirt. You definitely had some splotches, but you wouldn't use the word covered.

"It's fine, I'll change when i get home..." You trailed off again. Your car was outside Martin's house, and there was no way you could possibly bring yourself to go back there tonight. Maybe Gavi would be kind enough to walk over with you in the dark.

"You're spending the night here. There's no way I'm going to let you be by yourself tonight. Let me get you something to change into." He said, moving past you towards the closet.

"Oh no, Pablo, it's fine. I should really go back to my place-"

"Why?" He asked, abruptly turning to face you. He walked towards you, and your heart rate picked up as he stood within your air space.

"Why do you need to go home? We are on international break for the season. I don't start training until next week. You just finished your finals, so you don't need to do anything tomorrow. And, more importantly, the only way to get to your house is to either go get your car from your psycho abusive ex and drive home at this time of night, which is not happening. Or for you to take a taxi home, which is also not happening. I'm not letting you out of my sight." He turned back to the closet, rummaging through his clothes before pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a La Masia t-shirt. Placing them in your hands, he turned back to his mission to find the first aid kit.

"The bathroom is through there. You can go and get changed and wash up. What's mine is yours."

Nodding, you shuffled towards the bathroom. The door was quickly shut and locked behind you, and you stared at yourself in the mirror. You definitely looked worse for wear, mascara smudged under your eyes, which were red and puffy from sobbing. You washed your face with your non-injured hand, thanking Pablo silently for owning a decent face wash. As you stripped off your dirty clothes, you couldn't help the images that flashed in your mind, and the thoughts that seeped through your subconscious. You remembered the daydreams you had for several weeks, bursts of his eyes and lips and hands, and thoughts of all the ways they could touch you. Your cheeks burned as you grabbed a washcloth, running cool water onto your skin to remove the sweat and grime lingering. You thought of that day on the couch, when you had finally entertained the idea of seeing Pablo in a sexually attractive light. Bumps raised onto your skin as you fully wrapped your head around the situation. You were in your underwear in Gavi's bedroom, only a bathroom door separating the two of you.

A part of you wanted to open the door - to present yourself to Pablo, physically and emotionally bare, and tell him your feelings. But what were your feelings? You felt safe with Pablo, supported, and able to be your authentic self. Was this a friendship that you had over committed to? Was Pablo treating you any differently to how he would treat Pedri or one of the boys? You pushed those feelings aside, slipping on his clothes, breathing the scent of his detergent in deeply. You took one last glance in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had a tendency to spontaneously combust when it came to relationships, and you wouldn't allow yourself to do that with Pablo. He was going to be in your life for a long time - you wouldn't accept anything otherwise - but maybe the role he was meant to fill was that of a close friend and never more.

You walked out and saw Pablo rubbing his bare chest with an alcohol pad, cleaning the excess blood from his chest. He had changed into some clean shorts, and turned to face you when he heard the door. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in the sight. His shirt hung off your shoulders slightly, draped over your frame and covering your form in worn cotton fabric. His sweats hugged your hips, sliding precariously low on your torso and lose in the thighs, just small enough for them to not pool at your ankles. Gavi's mouth went dry as he stared at you. You crossed your arms over your chest, covering yourself with your folded dirty clothes. Gavi caught a glimpse of your bra in the pile. He had no moisture in his mouth whatsoever.

"What are you staring at, Gavi? Close your mouth you'll catch a fly." You said, trying to come across cool and unbothered despite the situation. He swallowed hard, trying to form a single sentence.

"They fit. I'm surprised." That was all he could muster.

"Me too. I thought everything would be too short on me." You teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"Low blow, doctora. come help me with these bandages."

He sat on the floor with the first aid kit, and you joined him on the soft rug, protecting from the chill of the tile in December. You grabbed the different solutions and began cleaning his hands. His hands were rough and calloused to the touch, and you made a mental note to get him some lotion as a late Christmas gift. You moved slowly over each knuckle, cleaning the blood and bruises, gently moving your fingers across Pablo's skin. You heard gentle hisses at the burning sensation from the alcohol, but he kept his protests to a minimum as you worked.

It was easy for Gavi to distract himself from the pain when you were the one sitting in front of him. The burn of his hands was basically forgotten as he traced the curves of your face with his eyes. That familiar look of concentration settled into your features, warming Gavi's heart. You were coming back, in short bursts and fleeting moments, but everything he loved about you was still there. Try as he did, he could not prevent his eyes from moving lower, settling on his shirt draped over you. It was one of his most well-loved shirts - the one that he had gotten when he began playing for La Masia's senior team. This is when he started to bulk up, biceps and pecs stretching out the shirt, creating the baggy look he currently saw on you. The colors had faded from dozens of washes, and it was now pilling and threadbare - really something that should never see the light of day.

But here you were wearing it, and suddenly there was no article of clothing that had ever made a woman look sexier. The baggy fabric moved with you, and when you turned behind you to gram more gauze, it tightened against your bare chest, and Gavi willed himself not to focus on it. He couldn't - not right now. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't describe what about it made the shirt look so good on you. It was just the fact that it was his shirt. You were in his house, in his bedroom, wearing his shirt. You were merging with his space, and in a way, becoming a part of his home. It was the closest you had ever been to being his.

You finished bandaging his hands, looking at your work, and making sure that everything was secure so he wouldn't lose the dressings in his sleep. Engrossed in the moment, you leaned down and kissed the top of Gavi's knuckles, pulling back before realizing what you did. You both stared at each other, mutually deciding it was best not to comment on what just occurred. You quickly cleaned and dressed your own cut, with Gavi's assistance, and once the bandage was secured, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. All the boxes were finally ticked - you and Gavi were safe and clean and dressed, and now your body felt relaxed enough to crash from the exhaustion of the day. Pablo noticed your eyes drooping, and moved off the floor, helping you stand as well.

"Let me go get an extra blanket." He said, moving towards the door. You followed him out of the room, and he turned to you, confused.

"Where are you going?" He asked, arm against the wall and blocking your path.

"The other room?" You said, phrasing it as a question.

"The guest room doesn't have a bed in it yet. My sister is helping me pick one out since she visits the most often."

"To the couch, then." You said, and Pablo's eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.

"You're not sleeping on the couch. You've had a stressful day to say the least. You're going to sleep on the ridiculously expensive mattress and get a good night's rest."

"Then where are you going to sleep?" You asked, heart skipping a beat at some of the possible answers.

"The couch. I want to give you your space. Let me go get that extra blanket - the top floor gets cold in the winter."

You grabbed his arm stopping him from continuing down the staircase.

"You're not going to destroy your back by sleeping on the couch again. You're about to get called up for the national team, and their physios suck. They will replace you with a 3rd tier player before they help you fix a dorsal muscle strain. You have to sleep on the bed Pablo."

"I don't actually have to do anything. This is my house."

You both stared at each other, the two of you unmoving on your position, and both ignoring the obviously solution to your argument. After a minute, it was Pablo who was brave enough to make the suggestion.

"We could always just... both sleep on the bed. If you're comfortable with that. We can made a divider in the middle and everything."

Blushing, you looked at the floor before responding.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Gavi got into bed, shirtless in a pair of shorts, and beckoned you to join. You walked slowly to the other side of the bed, crawling in and pulling up the covers, body stiff and muscles tense.

"I forgot to get the lights." You whispered quietly, making a move to get up. Suddenly the lights switched off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness, a weak ray of light filtering in from the half-moon.

"Expensive houses have a lot of pointless features, but this one is actually useful." Pablo said quietly, mentally kicking himself for making small talk about a light switch. He curled on his side away from you, uncomfortable but wanting to give you your own space, and let out a deep breath. You peered at Gavi, and then curled the other way, also in discomfort, but too scared to face him while conscious. It was too much. He was so close: enough to hold in your arms, to exchange body heat, to listen to his heartbeat and be lulled to sleep. But it was too much of a leap to take. It was too far out of your comfort zone, and you couldn't risk the delicate relationship with a desperate and ill-timed proclamation of... whatever it was you were feeling.

Pablo's heart hammered in his chest. Though it had been his idea, he had never actually thought it through. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder before, and he had survived, so he figured this experience wouldn't be that much harder. He was so sorely mistaken. The fact that you were laying an arm's length away from him kept his nerves on fire, and he couldn't even keep his eyes closed for more than a minute as the time. Despite the winter chill, his body was on fire, and the lack of clothing didn't help. You had just been attacked by your ex boyfriend, and Gavi wanted to hold you in his arms and protect you from the entire world. Patience wasn't his best trait, but he knew that it wasn't the time to ask you to be his. He needed to wait. He needed to be there for you right now

"Pablo?"

An hour after the two of you had settled, lights off and room quiet, you called out for him. Sleep escaped the two of you, and he turned over almost instantly when he heard you whisper his name. Turning to face each other, your eyes adjusted so that you could look at his features in the dark. He was beautiful. There was no denying how conventionally attractive Pablo was. But there were so many little things that enhanced his beauty, only visible from this close. You wished the moon would shine a little brighter so that you could look at the flecks in his eyes, and count the lashes fluttering above them. His features were relaxed, lids drooping and lips slightly puffed out. The scars and moles on his face were the only markings on the smooth skin, and you longer to run your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

"Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything."

You sat up in bed, moving quickly before your confidence evaporated completely. You moved in to the center of the bed, prompting Gavi to do the same. He moved slowly and warily, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the middle of the King-sized island.

"Lay down," You said, voice shaking slightly. You were terrified, but you knew that was the only way you would ever find rest before the sun came up. Pablo laid down, stiff as a board, half expecting you to make a desperate dash for the couch. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes before you laid down beside him. You turned on your side, resting a hand on Gavi's chest. Pablo's eyes widened as he finally processed what your request was. He raised his arm, draping it over your shoulders, allowing you to cuddle even closer into his side. Your head now laid on his bare chest, his hammering heart loud in your ear. He brought his other arm around you as well, resting his hand over yours on his chest. The two of you held each other close, seemingly for dear life, and finally sighed out in belief.

There was no way to describe this feeling. The feeling of you resting against Pablo, arms and legs tangled together, with his head rested above yours. Your hands together, occupying each others' air. There was no way to describe it except for right. There was no awkwardness or strained breathing anymore. There was relaxation and comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. The rest of the world faded away, and in that moment, Pablo could have sworn that he had ascended to heaven.

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

Gavi tensed so hard it set off a headache. He couldn't cry, not while you were in his arms. He had always been seen as an asset because of his skill, always being told how valuable he was in that respect. But you saw him as a person, and not only did you tolerate it, but you cherished it. You made him proud to be himself.

"You too, in ways you can't even imagine. Good night, y/n."

Despite the way it started, the international and Christmas break was rather uneventful. Your little "sleepover" with Gavi saw the two of you sleeping in until 1pm, a rare occurrence for the both of you. Usually you both had too much going on, both on the schedule and in your minds, to sleep for such prolonged times. Wiser minds might have stopped and questioned why being in each others' arms brought a wash of such immense peace, but alas. There was no such reflection. Only waking up in the middle of the day, exchanging awkward smiled before getting up to change. Gavi had awoken with your leg draped across him and half an erection, causing him to bolt for the bathroom when you turned to check your phone. He wanted to say something - anything - about the night before. But he had promised to "forget", sealing his lips until further notice.

He turned the shower to the coldest setting, trying to stay silent as he killed his hard-on in the least loving way possible. You took the opportunity to slip into your sweats from the night before, and putting Gavi's t-shirt back on. Yours still had bubbled blood from the events and peroxide of the previous night. As you sorted out your hair, Gavi emerged from the bathroom, towel slung around his hips, showing off his toned chest and deep V once again. You lifted yourself and turned to face the wall, looking up at the Lord through the ceiling and asking why you were being faced with such temptation.

"Don't look." Pablo instructed, and you heard the towel thud to the floor. It make your cheeks burn and you crossed your legs tightly. You tried to think of anything else to stop yourself from taking your medical history with Gavi and constructing a complete mental image.

"Pedri is going to ... do you want a clean shirt?" Gavi asked, now in a clean sweatshirt and jeans. There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him borderline insane. He couldn't tell if he needed you to stop, or needed you to do it every day.

"Oh, no, this one is fine. Thanks again - I'll wash it and return it as soon as I can."

"You can keep it." Gavi replied, turning back to his closet. The last thing he needed was to become aroused whenever he saw the folded shirt in his house. He grabbed a sweatshirt and tossed it to you as well.

"Are you donating clothes to me now? My salary isn't that bad, Pablo." You laughed out as you caught it.

"It's December, doctora. You should know that it's not great to go out in the cold. Your hoodie is still in your car, so wear this for now. Speaking of - Pedri is on his way over. He's gonna drive your car back to your place, and we'll take his. That way you never need to go near that dick's house again."

You slipped the green sweatshirt over your head, and were instantly attacked with the smell of body wash and cologne. Gavi had worn this recently. You brought the sleeves up and took a deep breath again before rushing downstairs to follow Gavi. It was a one time occurrence - you wouldn't allow yourself to get close to Pablo like this again. You were coworkers, first and foremost.

The two of you climbed into Pedri's car, you in the driver's seat and Gavi in the passenger, fingers trembling as you took the familiar turns. You stopped about a block away, dropping Pedri off, and driving off to the café the three of you had agreed to meet at to avoid any chance of being followed. You made idle conversation with Gavi, the two of you feeling the obvious tension. Pedri brought you your car, and you left the boys, giving them both a quick hug goodbye before going home to process the insane 24 hours you just had.

The boys were headed back to Gavi's to pack before heading to Madrid for national team training. On the way home, Pablo bounced his leg, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows more than usual.

"Hermano," Pedri started, "whatever you need to say, please just say it."

"But I'm not supposed to."

"Then stop with the fucking anxious ticks! Either speak or stay silent, but don't drive me crazy. It's a long day." Pedri ended his scolding with a light laugh. He knew Pablo better than anyone, and could tell it was only a matter of time before the younger boy started to spill his guts. Gavi wanted to stay strong, holding the promise he made to you extra close to his heart and his honor, and picked up his phone to pass the time. He opened up his twitter, refreshing the feed.

"Oh fuck. I'm in trouble."

Yes, the break was rather uneventful. You filled your time with studying, revising medical plans, and watching the international matches on TV. You tried your best to stay inside to avoid seeing anybody. You were still mourning the end of your relationship with Martin. Despite the confirmation that Martin was borderline clinically insane, it still weighed heavily on you, day by day, that you had once again been cheated on. That you had once again molded yourself into the absolutely closest thing to perfection, and had again fallen short. The winter weather also made you more lethargic, less keen to go outside and interact with others. And finally, you were terrified of anyone on the street recognizing you.

In hindsight, you should have made Pedri just walk and get your car. Or you should have waited until you knew Martin wasn't home and done it yourself. Because the thing about Pedri's lush green mini Cooper was that is was one of the most recognized cars in Spain, and so girls would flock to every single one they saw. His car had been posted enough for the most dedicated to have the license plate committed to memory. So driving around in such a recognizable car with the most sought-after footballer in Spain might not have been the best idea - especially during the day when the window tints weren't as effective. It took less than an hour for you and Gavi's pictures to be circulated around fan accounts, with people commenting on everything. The fact that you were driving, the hoodie you were wearing, the way that Gavi looked at you- the list was endless.

It took another 4 hours for people to figure out who you were. @gaviraconcubine on twitter had thankfully recognized you as one of the physios from game clips, and informed the rest of the rabid mob. Some had been satisfied with the answer, while others believed this an even more damning piece of information.

@gaviraconcubine: ok so the girl Gavi was with in the car is one of the barca physios - all the squad follows her + some shots of her on the field ! Gavi nation we're safe ;P

4,788 Likes 2,003 Retweets 834 Replies

@barcabarcabarca : guys shes literally a staff member???? gavi cant talk to female staff now wtf

@mrspgavira : if he ignored all of us to fall in love with the first ugly ass girl he bumped into at work ill take a swim with a toaster

@88rizzing : so she just started w barca this szn and got gavi? alexa play mastermind

@loonastansbrazil : more drivers for gavi!! she too old to be his girl

Barca staff were on public record, and so by the end of the day, your social media, school, and entire life history had been published on social media for people to scrutinize. It had sent you spiraling, suddenly being at the center of extreme amounts of attention from teen girls and 45-year old Barca stans alike.

[Pablo]: hey

[Pablo]: im rlly sorry about all the stuff online

[Pablo]: it should all die down soon. will be done at 9pm and I can call you

So that's what you did. Cook, clean, study, watch football, and get in disguise if you ever needed to go out. You spent your evenings chatting with Gavi. First it was about the media circus that you two were going through.

"It'll die down eventually. I'll stand too close to another girl and then everybody will leave you alone."

"Or accuse you of being a cheater."

"Has enough time passed for us to make cheating jokes?"

But as your fears started to ease an your mentions dried up, the conversations went back to the casual, playful tone that always filled the air whenever you and Gavi conversed. It was easier to talk to Gavi than it was with anyone else. You still spoke to your other friends, checking in on Angelika periodically over text, but no one could fill an hour FaceTime call like Gavi could, making it feel like mere minutes. Often, the two of you were both lounging, you on your couch and him in whatever hotel bed the national team had provided. As the days went on, you grew more comfortable answering the phone sans makeup, showing the most natural parts of yourself to who was shaping up quickly to be your closest friend.

Returning to work after the break may have been harder than the break itself. The office was abuzz with the rumors about you and Gavi. For the first few days, you ignored all the chatter. You had seen enough online to know that not knowing was always better. You didn't care what anyone said about you, as long as you proved you were an asset to the team. That is until Antonio came into your office one day with a sealed envelope. He was finishing up with some loose ends in Barcelona, before making his way to the UK to start in Manchester after the January transfer window had closed. He walked into your office, a large manila envelope in hand, and placed it on your desk.

"What's this?" You asked, peering at it from behind your glasses. Antonio was not one to make jokes or pull pranks, so it confused you to see him now, giggling in your office like a school girl.

"Oh this? Nothing important. Just a backup plan. Now it's my turn to ask the questions." He said, coming around and sitting atop your desk.

"Is it true that you're sleeping with Gavi?"

It had been a long time since you had seethed with this much rage. First, shock and embarrassment flooded your veins, freezing you in place, leaving you like a deer in headlights before the question. Antonio's ringing laugh is what pulled you out of your trance. You quickly denied the rumor, stating that you and Gavi were friends, but everything remained strictly professional.

"We heard you went to his house after the last home game before the break, and didn't leave until the following day, and wearing his clothes as well! You don't have to lie to me, I won't tell Dr. G or Xavi. So how was he?"

You promptly instructed Antonio to get the hell out of your office, and you made a move to head to the practice field. How dare Gavi: tell people you slept together when you did nothing of the sort. Well, you did something of the sort, but not in that way! Your job was already in jeopardy as it was, and it didn't help your case to be allegedly sleeping with one of the players. Talk about acts that increase favoritism. As you turned to corner to head to the field, you were met with a hard chest instead. Looking up, you saw the one face you had been trying to avoid all week: Ferran.

"My favorite little nurse. I haven't seen you since before the break. How have you been?" His arms were crossed over his chest, smirk and arrogance across his face. He blocked your path, and you sighed before responding.

"I don't have time to chat, Ferran. I was headed to the practice field to speak to-"

"Gavi? Yeah, I don't think so. My hamstrings need work. You're coming with me."

You followed closely behind, annoyance bubbling in your throat as you followed Ferran to your office. He laid on the examination bed as you closed the door, using the small sink to wash your hands, and donning a pair of clean gloves as he rolled up his shorts and laid on his stomach.

"So sad to hear about you and Martin, y/n. You two really did make a cute couple. I saw him at the end of the break - he's really looking quite worse for wear."

Uncapping your athletic salve, you started working the mixture between your fingers before moving to Ferran's thigh.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're a cheater. Usually quite a deal-breaker in a relationship."

You had resolved no to speak to the striker on your table, knowing that everything he said would only egg you on further, creating more opportunities for you to slip up and be unemployed. But there was something in you that Martin had broken, no, stolen, that made staying silent astronomically more difficult than it had been. So your tongue release from your cheek quicker than you could process, and you steeled yourself once again to work on his legs. What were his legs even tired from? It's not like he was playing regularly.

"You know that there's more than one way to cheat on a person, right?" Ferran questioned, folding his arms to get more comfortable on the table. You shifted your eyes to look at him, one brow raised in confusion. Your lip curled up in disgust, and again your found yourself speaking without intention.

"I don't want to hear about all the different ways he cheated on me. I know you two are friends or whatever, but I'm not interested in the rest of his dirty laundry."

"I'm not talking about Martin. The other cheater in question is you."

Movements slowing, you locked eyes with Ferran, who held your gaze with confidence - like he was holding all the cards, and you were none the wiser.

"I didn't go around sleeping with other people while I was in a committed relationship." You deadpanned, not enjoying how the morning was progressing.

"Right, that was Martin - how unoriginal if you both did the same thing. He went around and slept with a couple other girls to satisfy his base desires. It's bad, but what you did is much worse, little nurse."

You tore your gaze away from Ferran, working his legs with new vigor, restraining yourself from just grabbing onto the flesh and squeezing until he screamed out in pain.

"This is not a professional topic of conversation and you shouldn't bring it into the workplace." You replied, but your voice had started to waiver.

"Oh yes it is, because it revolves around one of your coworkers. While Martin was out working and training an doing other things - or other people - you were also being unfaithful. Sure you didn't sleep with someone, but you were in a 'committed relationship', as you put it, when you started to fall for Pablito."

You pulled your hands away from Ferran like he had spontaneously combust, running from the flames. The look of bewilderment was not one you could suppress in that moment. Your throat had gone completely dry, but you knew the longer you remained silent, the more Ferran would interpret it as a confirmation of his theory.

"That's - it's not true. Gavi and I are coworkers, friends if you really want to push it. It's highly inappropriate for you to assume otherwise. Look I know you want me to lose-"

"Lose your job?" Ferran laughed callously. "Oh no, hermosa. I love seeing you run around here in those tight scrubs, hair pulled back - you're like my own personal masseuse. I just hate when some people get special treatment. And you and Pablito haven't exactly been subtle."

"There's nothing going on between-"

"Bullshit. What kind of employee is willing to come in early and work unpaid hours for just another member of the squad? He's the only one with your personal number. You drive him home after practice. Everyone knows that those hours he spends locked away after national team training, he's talking to you. For fuck's sake, you hadn't even been broken up with Martin for a day before you spent the night at his place!"

Eyes locked with the floor, your breathing quickened as Ferran's words too root in you. Did everyone think this way? Was it a common assumption that you harbored "special feelings" for Gavi? He continued without allowing you to recover.

"So you can get on your high horse and spew your woes about how your boyfriend slept with someone else. But you let little Pablito get access to the deepest, most intimate parts of your soul, and despite having a boyfriend, you let yourself love him. You let yourself love Gavi the night you watched him throw up outside the club, young and stupid and delirious, and yet you let Martin think he had a chance to be your man, your one, your soulmate. That's what most people would call emotional cheating. And it still makes you a shit person."

Your temples pounded, headache coming on from the lack of air in your system. You couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't process the information being thrown at your brain. Had Ferran been present that first night at the club half a year ago? Had someone else remembered you, recounting the details to everyone involved? Did Gavi know that you were there, and had seen him in that state? Antonio's question from earlier flashed in your mind, and though you had assumed Gavi's lips had gotten loose, the real culprit was sitting in front of you buttered like a turkey. Everything else would have to wait - because you might lose your job if you didn't get this question answered.

"Have you been telling people I slept with Gavi?" You asked, the pain in your voice clinging to every word.

"I haven't been telling people anything that isn't true. I may have mentioned to a couple of the second-team players that you and Martin had broken up. I may have also mentioned that when I went to console my physically and emotionally battered friend, I watched you and Gavi leave his house, together, and you were in his clothes. Well, I didn't really need to provide that one, did I? The pictures are everywhere. And maybe there was a thing or two about how Martin has always been wary of Pablito, who seemed to always go out of his way to be at your beck and call. People connected their own dots."

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You asked, voice desperate as you ripped of your gloves, coming around the table to face the slippery eel that was Ferran Torres directly.

"Why can you not stand the sight of me so much that you need me to lose everything I've worked for my whole life?"

The smirk was glued to his face, and the mal intent in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

"Just because I like watching you squirm. And if they fire you, it's no worry to me at all. The team managers are already embracing this 'diversity' thing, so another bubbly, bouncy little thing in scrubs will be in swiftly to take your place."

Ferran got up, readjusting his training uniform and making his way to the door. You couldn't speak. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball behind your desk. The entire staff thought you were sleeping with Gavi, and the thoughts spiraled onward. Did they think that's why you hadn't gotten fired after Ferran's complaint? Did anyone think you were qualified beyond just a toy for one of the players?

"I would steer clear of Gavi, hermosa. No more late drives, no more sleepovers. Rumor has it, word's gotten all the way up to Xavi. Would hate to have to give him confirmation that you two are more than friends. Because then you'd be looking for physio jobs in the village football teams."

"But we're not." You replied, voice strained and broken.

"Then keep it that way."

Since Pedri's nonexistent project with Adidas had ended, he was back to giving Gavi rides. It's not that he minded - the younger boy was always talkative and good company. But It was the waiting around that made Pedri want to scream. For the entire time they had been on international leave, you were the only thing Pablo thought about and spoke of, filling any silent moments sending messages to as a precursor for your nightly calls. Pedri was mistaken in thinking this teenage lovesick behavior would cease once they returned to Cam Nou.

Every day after practice, Gavi would move at the most glacial, snail-like pace just to time his exit with yours, accompanying you on the walk to your car. Today was no different. As Gavi took his time in the locker room doing Lord knows what, Pedri caught a glimpse of you speeding down the corridor. He wanted to greet you, to ask if you were okay, but he couldn't get the words out before you rushed past him. He turned into the locker room and yelled at his passanger.

"Hurry up hermano! She already left!"

[6 Missed Calls]: Gavi

You ignored the buzz of your phone on your table as you curled into yourself, tears streaming down your face. It was beyond what you could bear. You had sacrificed so much throughout your life to get the "dream" you were supposed to be living now: perfect life in a perfect city, with your perfect job and perfect friends. But all of it had been set ablaze. Your apartment had never felt lonelier or colder, as you looked at the chairs that had never been used, the floor that only you walked on. Since leaving America you found yourself with few to no friends. You never went out or saw anyone, dedicating yourself to excelling in your program. The only friend you ever had over was Angelika, and even she had not graced your home for weeks upon weeks. You had isolated yourself from everyone to make sure you were perfect at work - never tired or hungover, never a thread or hair out of place. Now you were friendless and single, curled up on your couch, cursing every decision you had ever made.

The last person you wanted to see or speak to was Pablo. Pablo, who had entered your life so suddenly, and taken up residence in your brain and heart, was the sole common thread between everything crumbling around you. You willed yourself to be angry with him. You tried your hardest to blame him for every misfortune that had come your way. Your lack of friends, many of whom distanced themselves when you started working for Barca under a perception that you were "too good for them". Your waning relationship with Angelika, which began when Pablo started to tunnel his way into your life, consuming more and more of your time. Your failed relationship with Martin, which was perfectly stale and stable before Gavi showed you what it was really like to be made a priority. The current precarious state of your job, it was his fault, because of his consistent fighting with Ferran, which provoked him to file his empty complaint.

You wanted to curse Gavi and the day you had met him, but you couldn't do it. You couldn't bring yourself to even have an ill thought about Pablo. All you could do was curse yourself. You had known deep down for so long how you really felt. From that night you spoke to him in the club, identity yet unknown, but all his vulnerability on display, you had known that there was something pulling you into his orbit. You had known that the hoops you jumped through for him were special, and not inconveniences you would shoulder for anyone else. You had known when you searched for him on the field, in your contacts, in your subconscious that no one would ever bring you this much peace. His eyes, his words, the energy that radiated from him were rarities, seen once in a lifetime, and often squandered by those to late to grab them. And so you sat on your couch, tears pouring down your face as the realization enveloped you, too great to hide any longer: Pablo Paez Gavira was your best friend, and you were heart-achingly, soul-crushingly in love with him, but you would never be able to do anything about it.

Gavi had given up after 6 missed calls and 18 unanswered text messages. He knew that you would call him when you were ready to do so, but the anxiety gnawed at him nonetheless. He couldn't stand the thought of you upset, and would move heaven and earth just to make sure you were doing fine. He was currently checking his phone for notifications ever 30-45 seconds, leg once again bouncing - much to Pedri's dismay. The two of them, accompanied by Alejandro and Eric, were at a restaurant catching up with some friends. Gavi paid no mind to anyone. He was too preoccupied to engage in idle conversation. Rather, he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice -no , your breathing even, to calm his worries.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the screen. A short blond stood before him - one of Eric's friends - and she spoke directly to him, asking questions about his age and if he also played for the club. Unhappy with the interruption, Gavi gave quick and curt responses, trying to avoid a prolonged conversation. This did not deter the girl, who introduced herself as Jacinta, from getting Gavi's undivided attention, as she sat beside him, legs pressed against each other, and rested a hand on his thigh. Before he could react, he heard the gasp of his name, swiveling around to find several teenage girls huddled by the front of the restaurant, phones out and whispering to each other. Gavi had lost his appetite, excusing himself and taking a taxi back to his, checking his phone frequently as he prayed for you to give him any indication that you were alive.

Your phone rang once again, and the tone echoing through your apartment was one you welcomed eagerly: Angelika's. You had not heard from her in the last month, trying to give her enough space to do her work, while still reminding her you were there for support.

"Angelika! It's so good to hear from you."

"I'm moving to Paris."

Your face fell as you turned the words over in your mind.

"You're...what?"

You sat up on the phone, listening to Angelika explain how she had impressed her colleagues, being promoted to their Paris office to work on more couture and avant-garde looks. She gushed about what an amazing opportunity it was as you tried to stop yourself from throwing up. How was it that you were losing everything in your life all at once.

"That's so amazing, Ange."

That was all you could muster, deciding to be a good friend and leave your worries and fears to the side, letting her bask in the triumph of her accomplishment. You responded with how proud you were, how much she deserved this, and how you knew she would do amazing things.

"Does Gavi have a girlfriend?"

The sudden mention of Gavi's name alone was enough to knock the wind out of you, but the context of the question really threatened to have you spill your guts on the rug.

"Not that I know of." You said, the feeling of dread dripping into your gut like tar.

"One of the Barca fan pages just posted a pic of him with some girl at dinner. Look I just sent it. I didn't know he was old enough to be getting girls like that. You two are friends, right?"

Your eyes were instantly drawn to the blonde girl's hand on Gavi's thigh. She wasn't his girlfriend. If anyone were to know that Gavi were in a committed relationship, it would be you. But this knowledge didn't help the wounded feeling that settled into you. You were home, pining after this little footballer, as he effortlessly flirted with other women. You were once again in pieces over a man that did not think of you the way you thought of him.

"Yeah, we're friends, I guess."

You would never be more than Gavi's physiotherapist and someone he occasionally sent Tiktoks to. Gavi was a deity in his field, a name that struck fear and respect in the hearts of the opposition. He was a symbol of the next generation of football royalty, and a man that could have any woman at his feet with a lick of his lips and a wave of his hand. This is what he was destined for: days in the spotlight, photographs with mysterious beauties, and a loyal fanbase that worshipped his every move. None of that involved you: an employee. Why would he want you? There was nothing you could give him that didn't come in a prettier package. He would never look at you as more than a friend, because you walked with the common crowd, and he was among the elite. Gavi could have any girl that he wants, and it was obvious he didn't want you.

You moved from the couch and walked to your table, waking up the computer that sat upon it. You glanced at the envelope Antonio had slid to you earlier, and thought about his offer. What did you have left? You typed a quick email to Xavi requesting a brief meeting the following morning, before heading to bed, trying to sleep away the suffocating feeling that clung to you.

Gavi was at your office door when you walked in the following morning, despite you arriving 20 minutes earlier than usual. His arms were crossed, face scrunched in worry, but his features relaxed when you walked to the door. He tried to help you with your belongings, but you refused. You exchanged a dry good morning before entering your office, avoiding his gaze. He asked how you were feeling, and if anything had happened the previous day. Eyes glued to your computer, you responded shortly, informing him that everything was fine and that you had a meeting with Xavi you needed to prepare for.

"Doctora, did I do something?"

You finally looked at Gavi, taking in his pained expression. It hurt in ways medicine understand for you to be freezing him out like this, and yet, all you could do was think about the image of Gavi coupled with Ferran's words. Was it worth it to risk everything for someone who would never be yours? You shook you head, informing him again that everything was fine. Everything was far from fine: you felt like you had been thrown off a cliff, your sense of purpose and direction and meaning in life shattered. But you didn't want to burden Gavi with this knowledge. So you stood and collected your folders, lips pursed tightly. You would just have to pretend that you weren't desperate to confess to Pablo that he was the reason that you breathed air, and that you were focused on your meeting and nothing else.

He was not satisfied with your answer. Gavi searched for your eyes, trying to understand what he could have possibly done wrong to get you to change on him so quickly - to become so cold. But you refused to meet his gaze, and he was left to his own theories. Had the rumors of you two together repulsed you from him? Were you unable to look him in the eye now that someone had put the thought in your head that you two could be more than friends? Had you finally decided you were too mature and good for him? He had chewed his lips and inner cheek all night pondering these possibilities.

"Please, y/n, if I did something, let me make it right."

"Gavi." Bad sign. You never called him Gavi when you were happy with him. Gavi was his official name in the team, the professional term you addressed him by. His stomach sank, and everything in him screamed to take you into his arms, not letting you go until he once again heard the sweet sound of "Pablo" drip from your lips like honey.

You wanted to grab him and shake him, scream at him, and cry into his shoulder. You wanted to tell him that there was no way for him to make it right, unless he was ready to have you, wholly and completely, never letting you go no matter the consequences. You wanted to tell him the only thing that could fix it was the one thing you could never ask for: his love.

"I need you... to stay away from me for a while."

Gavi could swear e felt his heart crack in two. What could he have possibly done? What heinous crime had he committed that made you need such a high degree of separation. He had been right there: he had you in his arms, laid on his chest, and heartbeat synching with his own. Now, everything was slipping through his fingers like fine sand, and he was watching you disappear before his very eyes.

"Not because I'm angry with you, but I just... need space."

Gavi could do nothing but stare, mouth agape, begging every power that be for this to be a cruel joke. But you continued to shuffle your papers, and the punchline never came. Before he could form a response, a knock resounded from the door, and Xavi walked into the office.

"Gavi, you're here early." He said, eyebrow raised at you in suspicion. The young footballer swallowed this hurt and his pride, clearing his throat to speak.

"Yeah, just came to get some more medical tape. Doctora y/l/n told me we have some in the locker room. I'll be going now."

Gave left your office, shutting the door behind him, but he could not move. He leaned against the wall, trying to fill his lungs with air, but the breaths he took didn't feel like enough. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he was reminded of his childhood, when the other boys would bully him and push him around the field. That was the last time he properly cried of pain. It was happening now, for the first time in 11 years, but this was a different kind of pain. There were needles pricking every inch of his skin, and he could do nothing except let the pain overtake him. What could he have possibly done to push you away?

He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of Xavi's voice through the door. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he needed to hear you. He needed to listen to you speak, hear the normalcy in your voice, if he ever wanted to move from that God forsaken spot in front of your door.

"-a little late notice. You should try and schedule further in advance for coming meetings." Xavi said. It was unusual for Gavi to hear you be scolded. When had you asked to meet him?

"I apologize, mister, but it was all some very late occurrences, and I didn't want to delay."

"Alright then, go ahead."

"As you know, we are about 10 days into the January transfer window, and while players are getting offers from all over, this is also the time when clubs try and change staff."

Pablo put a hand over his mouth to cover any sounds he made and prevent himself from vomiting. He didn't like where this was going.

"Yes, I'm aware." Xavi responded. "Antonio is leaving us during this window."

"Exactly. That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. Antonio, as we all know, is a very talented physiotherapist and sports medic, meaning he got offers from a number of clubs. He received a position as head of physiotherapy at Chelsea, which he had to reject obviously to join Man City. Yesterday, he graciously got the offer forwarded to me."

"Miss y/n, please clarify your intentions. I am not very good at understanding subtext." Xavi laughed out.

"Yes sir. I'll be direct then: I am considering leaving F.C. Barcelona at the end of the transfer window."

~~~~~~~

A/N: guys pls don't kill me I'm sorry for the end (not rlly lol). I hope you all enjoyed what is officially the longest part of the series to date!! Got close to my 15k goal, but not there yet - maybe in the next part. My hands are actually cramping from all the writing this is borderline self-inflicted torture lol. Did y'all catch the subtle title/ lyric references? As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! Esp watching the way people think the story is going to progress because sometimes y'all are spot on and sometimes y'all are wayyyy off and I'm like "wait that would actually be a great plot for another series". Anyways love you all and hope you enjoy!! Part 8??? She's gonna be intense y'all.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

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