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#hopefully that changes in season 3
all-too-unwell-13 · 3 months
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i know it's a while off, but ...
i wonder how they're going to do aphrodite in the show. like, her appearance is CONSTANTLY changing, right?? because she looks like each person's ideal beauty, basically.
so i wonder how they're going to make her face and hair and everything shift and change all the time.
because one second, to percy, she looks like annabeth. the next, like someone else.
i wonder how they're going to edit that and have it transition between each "look" that percy sees her as.
will it flicker between shots and she'll "change" between each one?? or will the shot move to percy's face and then back and she'll look like annabeth and then someone else???
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im-no-jedi · 3 months
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made myself a new icon in the style of my upcoming commissions. I've had art block lately, plus I haven't drawn the hubby in a while, so this was fun 😋
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crest-of-gautier · 9 months
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SOUYO SPOTTING !!! art by @catnatch :3
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phantom-of-the-keurig · 3 months
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Okay now everyone stfu about Ventress
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I don’t give a shit if they change canon at this point I just want Tech back let’s get back to what matters 😤
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toastsnaffler · 6 months
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they should make a november that doesn't make me want to kill myself
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bluishorange · 6 months
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un-pearable · 1 year
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a teeny bit of doodling that is actually cute enough to share
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dadbots · 4 months
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Happy holidays / Yule / upcoming traditions. 🖤
#dadbots.txt#its been a rough month so far. not necessarily due to seasonal but overall changes for the better or worst.#While I /did/ managed to recover from my sinuses after 2-3 weeksish. I’m just not doing well still and it’s been a fuck of a rollercoaster.#I’m so tired. again. Just not a great end to this year. But hey - you win some you lose some. And other days to try again#Many adaptations been made but it’s not really repairing anything. Just kinda a bandaid on it and hope the wound heals if that make sense.#& made such a dumb move. But with so many people telling me to wait it out and said thing would change ended up being the exact same.#And I feel stupid for it. I knew better and yet — same thing. Which fuckin blows but okay. Whatever. At least I can’t lie and said I didn’t#- try at all yknow. I mean I did. It’s something. So guess we’re moving on from that experience. And that’s that#My progress is fluctuating like hell and back this year. I expected much and need to figure out what needs to go & needs to stay in my life#- Almost similar to spring cleaning. Whatever goes goes and whatever stays. Well. Stays if it benefits me or improve somehow#Hopefully it’d solve some of the negativity and awful energy going on. Some areas aren’t as easy or possible for personal reasons.#- but sometimes you gotta put your foot down and just do it. Whether that’s one step at a time or one big 360 and hope all goes well.#I need to be more persistent in my life concerning certain things. And others where I just need to learn to let go. Ignore it. Gone.#There’s just so much I need to do. From getting back on track. Working on things I’ve put off for years now. Adapting and improving.#- balance. Control. List could go on and on. But I did what I could this year. A lot of improvement. And while it kinda went down the draib#- after slipping into old habits again - at least I know I could improve in some way. I did it before. It /did/ work b4 longterm episodes#- and that’s worth a lot. Considering it’s something I talked about but couldn’t do at that time. Or just never did.#An accomplishment I had for this year. Now to see what else I can work on.
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igotanidea · 2 months
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Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
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A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)
part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
***
One year ago
„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”
“What irrational thoughts?”
“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”
“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—
“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”
“But-“
“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”
“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”
“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”
“There is no possibility that I-“
“Hush!”
“Mother I –“
“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.
“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”
“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”
“I will not!”
“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”
“Commitments!?”
“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”
“Mother!”
“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”
***
The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.
It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.
However-
Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.
Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.
Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.
Getting burned with the tea in response.
Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.
For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.
Next few visits were no better.
Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.
“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”
She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.
“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”
“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”
“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”
“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”
“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.
“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”
“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.
“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”
“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”
“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.
“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”
“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”
“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”
***
Dearest gentle reader,
It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.
Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 
Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.
This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.
It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.
After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.
***
Now.
“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”
Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.
“What is so funny?”
“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”
“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.
“Seem like you do after all.”
“Y/N…”
“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.
“Y/N…”
“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“
“Don’t you finish that sentence.”
“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.
At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.
Being called too much, constantly.
Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.
And then meeting Anthony.
And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.
But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.
Too much.
Not enough.
And it made her angry.
“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”
“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”
“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.
“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.
“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.
 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”
And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.
Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.
Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.
next part (finale!) : Just right
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall
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simpxxstan · 1 month
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Nobody Else (jww oneshot: part 1)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst, fluff in part 2
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 13k
warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!
a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.
hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. part 2 coming soon ^^ do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!
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You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
Objectively speaking, no. 
Subjectively speaking, not at all. 
You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 
So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 
After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 
It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 
It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 
Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 
Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 
But never enough. 
“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”
He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 
His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”
“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.
“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”
“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”
“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?
From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 
“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.
You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 
“Do you need help?”
You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 
He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 
“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”
“But you just wore lipstick?”
“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 
“Well, how do I look?”
His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 
“They’ll love you.”
You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.
“They always do.”
_
And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 
Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 
But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 
And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 
Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 
He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 
“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 
“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 
“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”
You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”
“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 
You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 
“Rich of you to say so.”
You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 
“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 
You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 
_
The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 
It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 
But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 
_
It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.
Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 
“Wonwoo… I can’t��” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 
And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 
Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 
And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 
And you had liked it. 
That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.
Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 
You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 
“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”
“The chauffeur was there.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 
“Are you sure?”
His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.
“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 
“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”
“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”
You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”
“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 
“What are your terms?”
_
You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 
No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 
_
You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.
“Hello?”
“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”
The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.
“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”
“I can get my own. See you there.”
He cuts the call. 
What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-
“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 
“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 
“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”
Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 
_
Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 
You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.
There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 
“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”
Fun. 
As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”
“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”
_
They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 
“Will you never leave me alone?” 
He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”
“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”
“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”
“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”
“Hmm-”
The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 
“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 
“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 
“For dinner.” 
You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”
He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”
“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”
“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 
“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”
“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”
“I regret nothing.”
“We’ll see.”
_
“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”
“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 
“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 
“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”
“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”
“You won’t come along?”
“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”
Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”
“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
_
“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”
You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 
You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 
“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”
You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”
Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 
“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.
Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”
Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.
“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 
Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”
“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 
“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 
“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”
“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 
Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”
_
At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 
“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”
You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 
“You came. I knew you’d come.”
“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 
“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 
“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”
“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”
“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 
“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”
You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 
“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 
You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 
“What?”
“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Aren’t there cameras?”
“Will pay for them to be turned off.”
“That’s probably illegal.”
“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”
You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 
“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 
You shake your head.
“Say it.”
“I want it too.”
“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?
“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.
“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.
“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 
“Sir please!” 
“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”
“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”
He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 
But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 
It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 
Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.
“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 
“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 
You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 
That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.
_
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 
Fuck. 
What have you done?
“How late am I?” 
“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 
“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo��s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.
By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.
After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 
Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 
Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?
_
Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 
After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 
You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 
It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 
Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 
“It’s one of those nights, huh?”
He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 
“How’s work treating you?”
“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?
“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?
“Come here, princess.” 
That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 
“Hmm, low sugar.” 
Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 
As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 
“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 
It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 
You wonder why he’s so happy. 
But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 
“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 
He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 
“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 
“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”
“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 
“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 
“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 
“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”
He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 
“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 
“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.
“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”
_
The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 
You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 
Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 
Your shirt is ripped again. 
You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 
“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”
He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”
“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”
“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”
“Wonwoo!” 
“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”
His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.
“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”
“This arrangement has to stop.”
He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-
“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s not-”
“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”
“Wonwoo-”
“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.
“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 
“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 
“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”
His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 
“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 
You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 
“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 
He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”
You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 
“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 
You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 
“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 
You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 
“Darl-”
“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”
“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”
You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 
You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 
“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”
“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 
“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”
“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 
“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.
“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 
“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!
“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”
“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 
“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 
“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 
You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 
“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”
_
Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 
“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 
“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 
“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 
It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 
“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 
“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.
“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 
Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.
“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.
“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”
Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”
“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 
You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 
“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.
“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 
“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”
“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”
“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”
“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”
“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”
You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”
“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”
That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.
“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”
Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”
Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 
“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.
“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”
“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 
“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 
Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  
_
Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 
You sigh, and nod your yes.
_
a/n: see you in the next part!!!!
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infamous-if · 9 months
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✮ CH. 2 PART I ✮ 92k (+86k) -> 178k ✮
PLAY CHAPTER 2: PART I
It's here! First, sorry for the long wait. Chapter 2 has proven to be a behemoth, and I'd gotten sick this past week, my computer broke, my documents went kaput and I had to do some Frankensteining for the last few pages of this part. I'm not too worried, as Part II update can help smooth out all the kinks. I will definitely be looking for beta testers once chapter 2 is complete ha
Anywho! Enough about my problems. This demo update adds 86k words (86, 818 to be exact) and is the first part of a two part chapter. Which means the narrative in this chapter is not complete, but I kind of closed it off at a pretty satisfying place. As with every Infamous chapter, this is very character driven. So have fun!
What to expect in Chapter Two PART I:
get on the bus & deal with the consequences of your actions lol
arrive to your first tour stop and do your first gig...which might get messy (both literally and figuratively)
hang with a familiar father and daughter duo
have some heart to hearts/ some cheeky little POV passages
meet more BOTB crew and learn exactly what's in store for you this season
get roped in some ValenReign mess !
Maintenance:
this chapter has a lot of flavor text, or at least, more than the demo did, so if there are any errors or if there are lines that don't correspond with your choices, please let me know so i can fix that!
you will no longer be forced to write your own lyrics and the update will offer you pre-written lyrics by yours truly. im not t swift so i would advise you not to expect professional level songwriting, but they work well enough lolol
lyrics page is up as well as stats, but i don't really like the system i used to balance it, mostly because new...stat things will be added as the story goes on, so that's still getting reworked. still, good enough for now, as there are some personality stat checks!
Prologue and Chapter 1 errors/typos/grammatical bits fixed. (Wouldn't be surprised if I missed some though...) + variables updated.
Scenes not showing up fixed. hopefully, that huge error in which it throws you back to the fight after returning to the house is fixed (It was a bit wonky for me, hopefully it works for everyone else)
Stat and relationship pages updated ( + lyric page to look back at all your lyrics).
Can choose to be asexual and any sexual scenes will be skipped or replaced with romantic scenes. Flavor text in which MC displays any sort of sexual desire will be skipped. (This option comes up during Dakota's party scene. If not, it will show up when it presents itself again.) (Nothing sexual has come up yet, but if there are any scenes or even lines/ internal thoughts that should be skipped or changed for Asexual MCs, please let me know!)
If there are errors or anything, im always open. I've play tested but you girl is always prone to errors. As always, thank you for your love and enthusiasm! It makes me really happy and motivates me to keep writing ! <3
(Also, if you're thinking "omg amy how did you go from 65k to 86k?!" i don't want to talk about it /j)
See you on tour!
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littleluvsie · 13 days
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in moments | spencer reid x reader
a/n: little thing i wrote today maybe intended for longer series, not super edited (sorry hehe). trying to get back into the habit of writing with this new side blog. send me any requests if you'd like <3
wc: 1.9k
warnings: fem reader, use of she/her pronouns (reader), shy!reader, early seasons shy spencer, just pure fluff (for now)
There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in anyone’s mind that the BAU changed when you and Spencer seemingly arrived at their doorstep out of nowhere – both of you young and bright-eyed, but an undeniable force together, a wealth of intelligence. But sometimes – especially in moments like this – the team wondered how either of you managed to function in society up until now. Everyone is watching curiously, trying and failing to hide their amused smiles behind their coffee cups.
You’re nervous. They see it in the way you fiddle with the hem of your sweater behind your back, the way you squeak out your words like you’re afraid of them. If anxiety were personified, it’d look incredibly reminiscent of you. Spencer isn’t any better. From the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, every inch of exposed skin is visibly tinted with a cherry-red hue, and his eyes continue to fixate on everything, everywhere except your face. 
“How are they even getting anything done right now? They look like they’re both about to throw up,” Emily mutters. 
Morgan nods, “My money is on both of them having nervous breakdowns in the next ten minutes.” 
Penelope tries her very best to swallow her laugh, but her efforts prove to be futile as a giggle manages to escape from her lips anyway. She quickly coughs and covers her mouth with her fingertips in an attempt to stifle it, but to no avail. Both you and Spencer hear it and glance over with adorably similar facial expressions, brows tightly knitted together and a hint of a pout gracing your lips. 
When you’re only met with silence, you tilt your head questioningly. 
“What?” 
“Nothing, nothing! How is it going over there? Did you guys find anything?” 
“Yeah, actually. Spencer thinks that the Unsub’s location can be narrowed down to these specific neighborhoods given the pattern of…” As you turn to look at Spencer, you realize you’ve made the greatest mistake in your life. It’s as if every possible nerve ending you have in your body surges with electrical current, and you swear you can feel your heart pumping from the middle of your throat. His eyes meet yours, and he’s closer to you than you remember. Was he here the whole time? You have the sudden urge to crawl under the desk and stay there for as long as you can get away with it.
Do his lips always look like this? Has his hair grown out since yesterday? Is he furrowing his brows?
You realize that you haven’t spoken in what must be at least thirty seconds. Spencer would know how long. You feel even worse.  
“Given the patterns in where the victims were found.” you finish quietly. 
Spencer swivels his chair to face the team and continues with his explanation, but you can barely hear him as all of your thoughts focus on the fact that his leg is now pressed up against yours. You’ve come to the natural conclusion that your brain is no longer functional anymore, your career is over. Maybe if you beg on your knees, Hotch will let you take a sick day? 
“Alright, let’s send smaller teams out and cover all possible locations, see what we can find,” Hotch announces from behind you. As he begins assigning pairs, you breathe out a sigh of relief. Now, you’ll have at least a few hours before you have to face Spencer again, and hopefully, by that point, all of the residual awkwardness of your stumble will be completely obliterated from everyone’s memory.
“And (Y/N) and Reid, you’ll take the last of the locations. Let’s debrief here once we’re done.” 
As you stare at Hotch in disbelief, you swear there’s a very, very faint hint of a smile on his face. 
You’re going to kill him. 
~*~*~
Spencer reads through the case file for the millionth time since getting in the car with you. There’s really no point to it; you and everyone else knows he has an eidetic memory, he only had to read it once. If you asked, he’d lie and tell you he does it to pass the time or to just fill the silence with the sound of pages turning. But he thinks he really does it so that he doesn’t have to hear himself stumble over his words trying to talk to you. 
It’s torture, being around you. You’re pretty and smart and nice and so wonderful, and if he thinks about it for too long, it hurts his head. Spencer wants to be around you all of the time and simultaneously none of the time – it’s an unsolvable equation, and he hates it. It’s torturous. 
Even so, he knows his best days are always spent with you. 
Most of your shared time is inevitably spent dissecting the neverending influx of cases received by the BAU. But every once in a while, there are times scattered between the chaos. Sometimes it’s the early mornings before anyone else has arrived, and the both of you drink your coffees together in comfortable silence. Sometimes it’s the late nights spent sitting at your desks across from each other with hot takeout and tired eyes. In these moments, both of you can talk about the books you’ve been reading recently, the best classical music composers, or your favorite episodes of Doctor Who, without any hesitation or uncertainty. Perhaps the delirium of sleep deprivation gives you courage, or maybe it’s just that both of you feel safer in the quiet, when the world feels a lot less overwhelming and all of your focus can be devoted to one another. Regardless, it’s what Spencer looks forward to the most, above all else. 
So, he tries. 
He clears his throat, “D-Did you know that Carlo Lorenzini, the guy that wrote Pinocchio, was said to be obsessed with the human nose?” 
“Really? Huh… I wonder what the origin of the obsession was, y’know where it came from.”
And for just an instant, the anxiety has subsided, quickly replaced by a much stronger, fluttering from the depths of his stomach. 
“Not sure, but sources say that he frequently wrote about noses in his earlier stories, so whatever the cause was must’ve been prior to the 1880s, when Pinocchio was published.”
You hum in acknowledgement, “Have you heard about the Pinocchio Paradox before?”
“The one created by Peter Eldridge-Smith’s daughter?”
“Yeah, I think her name was Veronique. What do you think of the possible solutions?”
While he thinks of an answer to your question, he also thinks about how seamlessly you manage to fit into the fragments of his mind. He’s never felt more seen than when you glance over at him, when you think he can’t see you. You’re perfect in a way that feels whole and complete to him, as if there’s nothing else he could ever want or need. He thinks about all of this, and much, much more. 
~*~*~
“Do you want a cup of coffee?” Spencer asks. He begins to rise from his seat, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 
“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll come with you though, I think I need a break anyway.” 
It’s late, everyone else has gone home. All of the fluorescent, overhead lights in the bullpen are off, both of you opting to turn on a few of the surrounding desk lamps instead. 
You don’t particularly like the dark, especially when it’s this late into the night. The walk to the kitchen feels a lot longer this way, your path being guided only by the residual light coming from the streetlights outside. 
There’s a sudden crash to your left, and you yelp, jumping towards Spencer. 
“Sorry! Sorry, that was me. I accidentally kicked a box of files I guess someone left on the floor, it knocked into one of the desks.” 
“No worries! It’s okay. I’m just,” you sigh, “I’m just a little bit afraid of the dark.” 
As your adrenaline levels steadily return to baseline, you’re suddenly hyper aware of how your entire body is quite literally pressed up against Spencer’s side, your hands gripping onto his forearm for dear life. But just as you start to loosen your death grip, you feel Spencer’s fingers searching for you in the dim moonlight. 
Every thought you’ve ever had, every bit of information you’ve ever learned escapes you in a single breath as he intertwines your fingers with his. 
His voice is just barely above a whisper, “I’m a little bit afraid of the dark too.” 
Both of you walk the rest of the way to the kitchen in complete silence and at an incredibly slow pace, as if even the sound of your soles against the linoleum floors would ruin this moment. You almost want to keep the abrasive lights of the kitchen off as you finally walk through the doorway with Spencer in tow; you know that the very second you flip the switch, you’ll have to let go of his hand. It’s not realistic for him to keep holding your hand, you chastise yourself. How would he even make his coffee if you’re holding his hand hostage?
You turn the light on. The alternative would be standing in the dark and you couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse for doing so quickly enough. 
A beat passes, your eyes adjust to the sudden change in brightness. You look down, and to your surprise, Spencer’s still holding onto your hand. Worse, he’s rubbing slow circles into the back of your hand with his thumb. I will never recover from this, you think. 
“D-Do you still want coffee?” 
“No, not really,” you respond. With how your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest, you really don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to consume any more caffeine. 
“Me neither,” he trails off. His eyes are glued to the floor as if he’s afraid to meet your gaze, as if it’ll make you realize with sudden clarity that it’s his hand you’re holding and you’ll pull away. 
“As you become drowsier, adenosine accumulates in the neuronal synapse and binds to the respective receptors located in the synapse of specific central nervous systems neurons causing further drowsiness,” you ramble. 
“And caffeine is an adenosine receptor antagonist.”
“Exactly, and knockout mice studies reveal that it’s specifically the adenosine A2A receptor which is a member of the G-protein coupled receptor family.”
“Interesting. Even though you only have one PhD, having it in biology seems to be proving pretty useful,” he smiles. 
“Yeah. I mean, it’s gotten me this far, wait what do you mean only one?”
“Dr. (Y/L/N), you realize I have three, right?” 
“Dr. Reid, please shut up.” 
You make him feel safe. 
“Okay, sorry,” he giggles, “Can you please tell me more about caffeine?” 
And because he asked so nicely, because he smiles at you the way he does, you tell him more. It’s nearly the middle of the night, but you’d still stay up and you would tell him everything you know, as long as he continued looking at you with his soft, brown eyes. 
You both talk about everything and anything either of you think of, all while holding each other in the palm of your hands. 
The next morning, he sits even closer to you. Luckily, it’s slowly getting easier to talk to him without losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, but it’s still hard sometimes. You still get nervous when he looks at you. You can still feel the butterflies flapping against the walls of your stomach, especially when he holds your hand underneath the desk. 
Both of you think you’re being subtle, but everyone notices. They pretend they don’t.
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Text
Reunion
Pairings: Daryl Dixon x teen!reader, Tyreese Williams x teen!reader, Carol Peletier x teen!reader, Judith Grimes x teen!reader (all platonic obviously)
Requested by Anonymous: when the prison fell you and Daryl got separated, this is how you meet up, based on this request
Warnings: mention of blood, fighting, mention killing walkers/zombies, killing people, Daryl hug (yes that’s a warning), knives, guns, mention of killing kids, Terminus, hopefully if you read this you’ve seen the episode and knows what it includes, but ya know typical twd stuff.
A/N did I accidentally write this way longer than I intended yes, yes, I did, now don’t get me wrong the moment where Tyreese defends Judith is iconic but for the sake of this fic I changed it up, kinda wanna make another part
For you who wants to know the episode is season 5 episode 1
Anyway I hope you enjoy this <3
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Judith giggled happily in your arms as you walked on the edge of the railway. You could’ve once imagined all kinds of trains going up and down the tracks as they blew past the trees, but now you couldn’t actually remember much about trains, you had the idea of them but not much details (and if a train were to come right now that would’ve been a miracle).
Tyreese walked a few steps behind you, with Carol in the front, as she led your group of four forward. She came to a stop when a sign that states “TERMINUS” showed up once more. It was your headed path, the sanctuary called Terminus. You personally didn’t trust it, not after the Governor, but you had to find Daryl and the rest of the group. You knew that if any of them were still alive they would’ve gone to Terminus after finding the railway. Which all of them had probably done. Along with finding Daryl you also had to get Tyreese and Judith to safety. Tyreese wasn’t fit to live on the road at the moment, he refused to kill anything that came your way leaving you and Carol to kill stray walkers, or animals for food. Judith, well, she was a baby and sometimes could be screaming all day, she was mostly quiet but the times she did cry was the times walkers got attracted. A baby was no way near fit to be on the road but here you were all of you somehow still alive (except for Lizzie and Mika Samuels, but there was no loss for you over Lizzie that’s for sure).
“We’re close” Carol stated as she saw the sign. “I’m gonna get you all there, make sure you’re safe, but I’m not gonna stay” She saw your face morph into disappointment as you nodded your head, a sad smile on your face. You’d missed her while she was gone and now she would be leaving again, and you didn’t like it, not one bit and you knew Daryl would be sad over it too which didn’t help the matter.
As you heard the rustle of leaves behind you in the forest, you all turned around to see two walkers stalk forward in your direction. Tyreese motioned with his hands to take Judith from you. Judith was carefully switched over to Tyreese and both you and Carol went forward to the walkers. Both of you killed them quickly only to notice the herd that was about to come out of the forest. Carol whispered to Tyreese that more were coming, and so all of you went into the opposite side of the railway. You hid in the forest until the walkers got distracted by shots firing not too far away from all of you.
Tyreese looked worriedly at you as he started to talk. “That gunfire it could’ve been from Terminus”
“Someone was attacking them, or they were attacking someone” Carol responded
“Do we want to find out?”
This time you involved yourself in the conversation, as you believed that you did indeed need to find out. “Yeah, we need to find out, If the others are there they might need help”
With that, and Carol's instruction of walking another track that would get you there as well you all started to walk once more, this time in need to find out the truth.
Your next stop had been outside a small worn out cabin, but it wasn’t the cabin that got your attention. What got your solely attention as you hid in the forest with your companions was the man that talked in a walkie-talkie. He was putting up a bunch of fireworks, no doubt to lead the herd of walkers away from Terminus. You could faintly hear him mention a woman with a sword, and you stopped Carol from going forward. As you continued to listen you heard him mention a kid with a hat and that was all you needed to go on. You didn’t think there were that many women with a sword and kid with a hat together nearby at the same time, so it didn’t take much to know that they were talking about Michonne and Carl. Nor did it take long to realize they had done something to your group, thereby also Daryl. Especially when he mentioned bleeding the kid out.
Carol slowly started to creep up behind the man and you followed not far behind. Tyreese more hesitant but still following. She put her gun toward his head, the young man froze and put his hands up still holding the two way radio. “Keep your finger off the button and drop it”
“Listen, ya’ll don’t have to do this. Whatever you want, we got a place where everyone’s welcome”
“Shut up man” it was what all three of you were thinking but Tyreese was the one to say it.
“Okay”
“We’re friends of the chick with the sword and the kid in the hat” Carol pressed the gun against his head forward, making the man lean forward as the gun touched his head.
It didn’t take long for you and Carol to tie him up and drag him (not so carefully) into the cabin leaning him against one of the walls. Throughout the whole ordeal the man continued to tell the three of you that you didn’t have to do this, that you could all come up with a deal, but he had no luck there.
As Carol made herself ready to scout Terminus out to see what was happening Tyreese continued to hold Judith in a protective embrace. You however had been asking the man questions, finding out that ever since the first questions he had been lying. He told you he only had Carl and Michonne, that they had both attacked them out of nowhere, that they were just protecting themselves. But none of you believed him. Not with the things you heard him talk about before you confronted him.
You would of followed Carol to Terminus had it not been for your will to protect Judith and Tyreese. As much as you loved Tyreese he wasn’t in his right mind. So you stayed to help if anything bad were to happen, to walkers coming your way or your prisoner getting free somehow, it didn’t matter you were there to protect your family. You only hoped Carol wouldn’t need any help.
Talking about your prisoner he was even more shatty when Carol left. Apparently a teenager, a baby and a man who he could clearly see wasn’t going to kill him was no threat to him. It was his undoing in the end. He underestimated you both and it showed in the way he talked to you and Tyreese as you sat by Judith, who’d you made a makeshift bed to.
“She got a name?… Hey, she got a name?”
“No” you answered at the same time Tyreese answered “Judith” you glared at Tyreese as he told the stranger her name, you didn’t want to give him any information, you never knew if it would backfire.
“She your daughter or something?”
“She’s a friend”
“Huh, I don’t have any friends… I mean I know people. They’re just assholes I stay alive with. The other one your friend, the woman” the younger man nodded towards the door that was now closed. Tyreese slowly looked away at the comment being conflicted about his answer. So instead you answered.
“Yes”
The man nodded and his voice that had now started to annoy you filled the room once more. “I used to have them… used to watch football on Sundays. Went to church” he let out a small laugh as if the thought of it was unbelievable. “I know, I did, but I can’t picture it anymore… it’s funny how you don’t even notice the time go by, horrible shit just stacks up day after day, you get used to it”
Tyreese turned his attention towards the man and spoke with distaste laced in his voice. “I haven’t gotten used to it”
"Of course you haven’t, you’re the kind of guy who saves babies, it’s kinda like saving an anchor, when you’re stuck on a boat-“ you had by know decided to drown out his voice as he tried to make justiciable to let him go.
Your thoughts got filled with Daryl like they had for the most time since the prison fell. You missed him. He always looked out for you. Ever since you met you were drawn to each other. Daryl used to pretend he hated you, especially when Merle was around he couldn’t have his brother think he was soft. However everyone knew he had always secretly looked out for you ever since he met you he’d felt the need to protect you. It came to the point that whenever you wanted to go on a run to get new supplies or do anything really you’d always ask Daryl. You had never spoken about it to each other but there was a silent agreement between everyone even you and Daryl that you were his kid and he your father. It might not be by blood but it was how it had come to be. Everytime something happened to you if you got hurt or if you were sad they’d always notify Daryl, but most of the time he already knew and would be with you to try and cheer you up in his own moody way. When you’d been out on the road before you found the prison you’d always sleep next to each other making sure the other one was safe. Even in the prison your cells were next to each other. He always looked out for you. He taught you how to hunt, he taught you how to use his crossbow, and to fight people to be able to protect yourself. Like Judith was “little asskicker”, you were the “big asskicker”. You couldn’t help but to miss him and the thought of him being hurt from the people in Terminus made your stomach hurt. You didn’t really want to voice your thoughts but you needed the reassurance and Tyreese was the only one who knew who Daryl was and could give reassurance. So against the warnings your mind gave you, you voiced your concerns.
“Do you think Daryl’s okay?” Your voice came out quieter than you expected as your mind filled with more scenarios in which Daryl had gotten hurt in.
Tyreese turned from Judith to look at you. He tried to give a reassuring look on his face as he answered. “I’m sure he’s fine Y/N”
”So Daryl’s your dad, maybe boyfriend” he continued to gues what Daryl was as you made no indication of actually giving anything away to him. After a while he stopped, he wouldn’t get anywhere with you, but he was still confident that if he talked enough to Tyreese would let him go.
“See, you’re a good guy, saving babies and teenagers.
“You have no idea about the things I’ve done”
“You’re a good guy, that’s why you gonna die today, it’s why the baby is going to die, why the Y/N is going to die” both you and Tyreese stood up taking an intimidating step towards the man, your knife pointed at him. “Or… you can get in that car, get out of here, keep on being lucky.”
“You think you’re gonna kill me?”
The man turned his sole attention to Tyreese as he answered him. “Why haven’t you killed me? How does having me alive help you? Why the hell are you even talking to me? Take the kids, take the car and go, I don’t want to do this today”
“For your information we could always use you to get more information or w e could kill you know, like you said we have-“ you got cut off by an explosion going off. Tyreese rushed to the window to see what was happening and saw the smoke over the forest.
“Is that Terminus?” The man moved forward as if trying to see out through the window but he had no luck in that department as he slouched back towards the wall.
“Yeah, probably”
“Maybe you’re gonna win this, maybe your friend, I mean maybe that woman just got capped, maybe I’m gonna be the one who gets capped when she comes back”
“Nobody’s got to die today”
“Man if you believe that… the it’s definitely gonna be you and the kids, even if the place is burning to the ground”
“Man maybe you can shut up and stop talking before I kill you myself” the man took his eyes of Tyreese to look at you as you had your knife pointed at him an annoyed look on your face. He didn’t believe for a moment that a teenager would be able to kill him, nor win in a fight against him. He had a way to high ego to think that you would be able to do any harm to him, he underestimated both you and Tyreese and when he heard as well as saw Tyreese look out at the walkers coming toward the cabin he moved quickly and soon enough his hands went to hold Judith in a hold that would be easy to break her neck.
He told you both to drop your weapons and you both did so not wanting him to hurt Judith. As he saw the walkers claw at the windows he looked towards Tyreese telling him to go outside. As Tyreese went outside he went over to you and bound your hands together with some spare rope just like you had done to him earlier. He made sure the knot would hold before he went I’ve r towards the wallow-talkie and tried to connect to the woman (apparently named Cynthia) on the other side.
While he did all that you tried to desperately tie up the knot that held the rope around your wrist together. Right as you were able to get rid of the rope around your wrist (thankful Daryl taught you how to do it) the noise from outside stopped. It became deathly quiet and the man looked towards were the last pounding against the walls had been. He took out his knife and was about to kill Judith when you quietly and quickly grabbed the knife that was laying right were you left it beside you on the floor and you ran over to the man. You saw red as you knocked him over, he had threatened to kill Judith and Tyreese. Threatened your sister and one of your closest friends. You knocked him towards the floor and your hand went into the air as you threw it down onto him repeatedly stabbing the knife in your hand into him. even after he was clearly dead.
Tyreese had to carefully walk over to you as he took the knife away from you. He told you that the man couldn’t hurt them anymore nor the walkers, everything would be okay. You appreciated his comfort as you hyperventilated for a few minutes over the fact that you’d just killed a human. You’d killed walkers before but never a human being. In your mind it was justified as he was about to kill all of you anyway, but you still felt like you’d lost something inside of you.
It was a while later when you glanced out of the window and saw Carol as she walked towards the cabin, Rick not that far behind. You broke out in a relieve laugh as a smile spread briefly over you lips, this made Tyreese glance out towards where you were looking. You booth scurried to get everything as you both wanted to leave the cabin not being comfortable to stay inside any longer than you needed to.
As both you and Tyreese stepped out of the barn you glanced at the people led by Carol. Your eyes scanned the crowd looking for one person in particular.
Daryl stared at you in disbelief he couldn’t believe you were actually alive, he’d seen you get shot, and without medical attention he guessed you’d died. He hadn’t wanted to keep hoping in case he would someday find your corpse rotting away (either as a walker or actually dead).
Daryl took in your bloodied state, you’d no doubt had to fight. Dirt and blood covered most of your clothes, and your face had a few cuts covered in dried blood. Your once white shirt was miss colored and your jeans had been ripped in some places, your jacket had blood stains all over it. Daryl could only guess what you’d gone through to end up looking like that (he didn’t even look that bad). He didn’t like all the blood covering you, he didn’t like not knowing what had happened, he didn’t like being away from you, he needed to protect you, he’d lost Beth to a couple of strangers, he wouldn’t lose you too.
When your eyes finally found Daryl, you had a soft smile on your face as you saw him visibly relax at your eye contact. While Rick and Carl ran towards Judith in Tyreese’s arms, Daryl stumbled forward towards you, dropping his crossbow to the ground. You met him halfway and he engelfulled you in a tight hug. You’d never know nor would anyone else but Daryl let a few tears fall in relief as he hugged you tightly knowing you were still alive, actually alive. As he felt you wrap your arms around him he felt you hug him just as tight, the comforting sensation you both brought each other was all you needed to ground each other and know that either of you were dreaming, this was real and both of you were okay.
As Daryl heard you sniffle he realized you were crying and he hugged you even tighter, taking one hand to your head and petting it softly — not knowing fully how to comfort someone, even now, having comforted you all those times before he still was unsure if he did it right. However he did know that you were crying from relief, because he did the same thing. You had your father back and he had his kid back and knowing that, you both knew that everything would be okay in the end. You were yet to be bested by someone when together, even when apart you always won, always found your way to back to each other. You would beat this world together and that was all that you needed to know, and the fact that neither of you were planning on leaving soon.
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unsolvedjarin · 8 months
Note
Can we have more mentor!Seb x Ferrari driver!reader? Maybe she wins in Monza the same season as the last fic? 👀
note: sorry it took me so long to get to this request, life has been KILLING me lately. this one is pretty short but hopefully you enjoy!
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FOCUS.
part one here but can be read without <3
pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (mick schumacher x ferrari driver! reader AT THE END)
summary: monza was never an easy race, and that certainly wasnt changing anytime soon. but maybe some luck is on your side this year— and a supportive mentor.
content warning: none besides my verb tenses being all over the place
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Max had gotten pole. So not good for you.
You lost P2 as well to Lewis by two-tenths of a second, but P3 was fine, P3 was good. Hopefully good enough for today. It was finally Sunday, and you couldn’t be more excited— it was finally Monza.
“Well the goal is to win,” you say, although it comes out muffled with food in your mouth. Sebastian had invited you to paddock brunch on race day, and you were not one to turn down free food.
Swallowing, you add, “I mean obviously the goal is to win. We’re in Monza, that’s every Ferrari driver's goal.”
The Aston Martin driver had been listening intently to your complaints about Ferrari’s performance recently, and from what he’s hearing, it’s not looking good. Not only was the car lacking in pace, the team itself had bad strategies left and right. While you had gotten a podium back in Spa, it was starting to look like it'd be the last podium for Ferrari for a while.
Charles had DNF’ed last race, and you ended up P9. Not a great result, but it still kept you third in the Construction Championship. This race, however, was too special to have a mediocre result.
It was the home of the Tifosi; the people, the cheers, the chants, it was all for Ferrari— all for you. You couldn’t lose in Monza.
“So you think you’ll win later then?” Sebastian asks, taking a bite of his own food.
“Well I don’t don’t think I’ll win, so there’s that.”
“What a strange type of confidence.”
“Thanks, I try.”
Sebastian laughs, a genuine one that makes you smile as well. You’d been spending more time with him since learning about his retirement at the end of the season, which says a lot when you were already always together. He didn’t mind though, he loved spending time with you above all the other people on the grid– well, except for Mick. He tagged along sometimes when he could. You liked having him around too.
“If it amounts to anything, I think you can win it.”
He always says that. ‘If it amounts to anything’ or ‘If it matters,’ as if everything he says wasn’t important to you when it was. “Thanks Seb, but save that optimism for yourself, you need it,” you tease.
You say it in a joking manner, but Seb knew there was a hint of seriousness to your words. Aston Martin hadn’t been performing well either, and if you considered Ferrari’s performance bad, then you could call theirs atrocious. You knew it wasn’t Seb’s fault, he had been trying to contribute to the efficiency of the car with his knowledge and he pushed it every race.
Nodding, he sighs, and you can sense the tiredness in his breath. 2 years of a slow car will do that to you. Before you could give him any comfort, however, a Ferrari employee calls out your name for you to get ready for the race.
“Good luck Schatzi, I believe in you,” Seb says, getting up from his seat. You get up and hug him tightly, smiling when he hugs you back just as tight.
“You too Sebby.”
“Do what I couldn’t,” you hear him whisper.
You don’t reply. You don’t tell him, ‘I’m sorry,’ because he already knows. He knows because you’ve told him it before many different times on many different races when he used to drive for Ferrari– but you’ll always remember Monza.
It was his dream, the most important thing he wanted out of joining Ferrari besides winning the championship with them. But he never got it. Every year he was there, something took the win out of his grasp. Engine failure, collision, slow pace, no grip, it didn’t matter what the reason was. He never got it.
You separate, both going to get ready. You’ll make him proud, you think to yourself.
The race was tight. Lewis was giving you a good fight, always just less than a second away, but conveniently farther whenever you were in a DRS zone which meant you couldn’t overtake him. Thankfully, he slipped up during a straight, and gave you enough slipstream and space to pass him.
Then it was just you and Max. He was 10 seconds away, and you were so sure it was over. But then he pitted a little too long, giving you enough time to take his position.
And then you were leading.
You were leading in a Ferrari in Monza.
Holy fucking shit.
Just one more lap, one more and you could see it– you could see the end.
“...Y/N L/N SEES THE CHECKERED FLAG, AND COMES TO WIN THE ITALIAN GRAND PRIX! FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2019, FERRARI WINS IN THEIR HOME RACE!”
You couldn’t believe it.
You won. You won in Monza. In a Ferrari.
You did it.
If the screams of the fans were loud in Spa, the cheers of the emotional Tifosi were deafening here. Exiting your car, still shellshocked, you’re immediately approached by Max, who gave you a quick hug in congratulations.
Slightly snapping out of your buzzed state, you run towards your crew who was on the other side of the barrier, practically jumping into their arms. They couldn’t believe it either. When you finally removed your helmet, the muffled sounds of everything else suddenly became clear, and somehow the already thundering roars of the crowd had gotten louder.
Despite all that commotion, all that chaos and celebration, there was only one man you were looking for. You heard he had DNF’ed, which meant he would be in his garage, but you didn’t care. You were going to look for him before you got on that damn podium.
While Max and Lewis went to the cooldown room, you got ready to sneak out and go to the Aston Martin garage, when a hand grabs yours and spins you around to face them. It takes you a second to realize what was happening, but when you did– “SEBASTIAN!”
He enveloped you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You could hear his proud laughs, and you started laughing as well. You had done it.
“I ca-”
“I-”
You both start at the same time, making you both laugh even harder. You gesture for him to start first, and he does. “I can’t believe it. You actually fucking did it,” he says, the joy evident in his cussing.
He walks with you back towards the Podium, an arm around your shoulder looking proud. When you get to the side stage you pause in protest, but he reads your mind before you can say anything. “Go, we’ll talk later.” He gives you a little nudge, and off to the platform you go.
You asked Charles once, and he told you that when you get up there on the platform, everything goes quiet. You would see the crowd, the fans clad in red, and you would feel the love, but you wouldn’t hear it– as if all their cheers mixed together into a large vast silence. One thing would come into focus, and when you see what you’ve focused on, it’ll all make sense. For him, it was a man wearing a shirt with the number 17 on it. In the large mobs, it was the one thing his eyes had focused on.
For you, however, it wasn’t in the crowd. It wasn’t in the endless support of the Tifosi, nor the trophy given to you. No, it was in the man you could see in your peripheral vision, standing on the side, clapping proudly and looking at you as if no one else was on the podium.
Sebastian. It was him. Your mentor, your father figure, your friend. You finally understood what Charles was always rambling about. That loving feeling— not one you feel with a romantic partner, but the one that buries itself deep into your soul and grows over time, unseen and unnoticed, but when you finally focus on it, everything makes sense.
The second the podium festivities ended, you ran into Sebastian’s arms and hugged him tightly, not minding the cameras all around you. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he hugged you back, not letting you go.
Tomorrow— not today while the chaos of the fans was still ongoing— the media will spew rumors about you and the older driver, but you don’t care. Not when you’re finally happy here; content.
With content tears flowing freely down your face— along with some champagne from earlier— you finally disconnected from the hug, looking at Sebastian with a grin.
He looked confused, “What’s happening? Are you alright? Is everything okay?”
Shaking your head with a laugh, you reply, “It’s fine, everythings okay. I just— I can’t believe I did it. And with you watching. I couldn’t be happier.”
Sebastian takes a moment to intake what you said. He had never felt this way before. Never felt so utterly proud of someone. You had done what he never could, had finally achieved the Ferrari dream he had always wanted for himself. He could see himself in you now, the sheer joy of a win with a team he always wanted to win with. He couldn’t be more happy for you too.
“Sebastian?” you ask, worried about his silence. Maybe what you said was too much, too forward. But then he smiles softly at you, and you can see the tears welling in his eyes.
“You have no idea how proud I am of you.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god, I thought you were thinking of scowling in disgust or worse; not hearing what I said and making me repeat it.”
He laughs, a hearty one, and you laugh as well. The roar of the crowd was still loud, but amidst all the chaos, your eyes still only focused on one person.
“Dinner?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, let’s get dinner.”
a bit of bonus for my mick girls out there:
“Y/N!” you hear a voice shout from across the paddock. It catches your attention, and you turn your head to the Mercedes hospitality where the voice came from. Sebastian is beside you, an arm around your shoulder, accompanying you for a post-race dinner.
“Mick! What’s up?” you ask, disconnecting from Sebastian’s hold to walk towards him. He meets you in the middle, giving you a quick hug before smiling.
“I just wanted to congratulate you on your win. We should celebrate!” he says, pausing for a moment as if thinking how to word his next sentence. “I was thinking— just a random thought really— we could…go out to dinner to celebrate? I mean just throwing ideas out there, you don’t have to.”
He’s looking everywhere but at you at this point, his eyes pointed down at his shoes and you can see his hands fiddling in his pockets. You notice Toto Wolff watching from the hospitality, but you pay no attention to him, instead keeping your eyes on the man in front of you.
“I’m sorry Mick I would love to, but I’m actually going out to dinner with Seba—”
“He can come,” Sebastian butts in. “He can join us, I have no problem with it.”
“Oh, then great!” you exclaim, nudging Mick softly. He looks up at you with a slight red dusting on his cheeks you don’t notice. Oblivious, you intertwine your arm with his, walking with Seb tailing the both of you.
You ramble on about the race to him and don’t notice when he turns his head around to face Sebastian quickly, who was giving Mick two thumbs up with a cheeky grin. The younger driver blushes softly, before going back to facing you and listening to you talk.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, however, the older driver was already secretly thinking of an excuse to get the two of you alone at dinner.
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me-loving-woso · 9 months
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The Aftermath
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Hello Tumblr and Hello readers.
This is Part 3 of Monthly visits. I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already working on Part 4, so hopefully you won’t have to wait that much. Does this part end in a cliffhanger? Yes. Am I sorry about it? No.
Let me know if I should continue this series. Hope you enjoy this!
The past few days have been incredibly challenging for you. Ava's room was finally finished, so you had to help her move to the room and Lucia finally decided to join La Masia, so you went with her to sign the contract.
Things with Alexia have been really in a weird place. You still remember vividly your conversation with her that day after she called for a break.
"So you want a break from me or the kids?" You ask, nearly crying, changing your position on the bed to sitting, waiting for an answer.
"I don't know, okay! These past few weeks have been overwhelming; I thought I could handle it. Then, Mom began talking about holidays and Christmas, and I guess I didn't think about it before? I don't know, it feels like my life has been changing so much, and I can't keep up anymore." She says clearly, in a very anxious state. "And above all of this, there is the World Cup, and I have all this pressure put on me, and I just want to disappear." She gets out sobbing, making your heartbreak. 
"Hey, hey, look at me." You gently take her face, turning it to you, wiping away her tears. "Since when has this been going on?"
"Since I got called up for the World Cup."
"So two months ago." You say more to yourself. "Why didn't you tell me anything?"
"You had already been dealing with your problems; I didn't want to add to anything."
"You are not a problem to me, okay? If you are happy, I am happy. If you are sad, I am sad. Whatever you need, I'll always be with you. I love you. And I know I don't say it much, but I probably should have. I love you." You began leaving small kisses on her face, trying to kiss away the tears, "What do you need?"
"I need not feel so broken and out of control of my feelings." She says, keeping her gaze down.
"It's alright to feel broken every once in a while, and it's alright to feel out of control. If you need time, I can give it to you. I'd rather lose you for a while than for the rest of my life. I'd wait a thousand lifetimes for you because you are worth waiting for. So when you are ready. I'll be right here." Your eyes start to water, too, as you understand what this entails. You shift on your bed, hugging her. 
"I love you so much, Alexia. I don't know what I would do without you. You really changed my life for the better. You are the love of my life. The only person I imagine spending my life with. And I swear to God, or whatever is up there, that one day I'm going to marry you, and I'll finally feel like I deserve your love."
"You know, you never said that."
"What?"
"That you wanted to marry me." She smiles shyly, keeping her head on your shoulder, hiding in the crook of your neck.
"Of course I do. I can't wait to be your wife and call you that." You pause, taking a deep breath, making her move her head to look at you. "But before that, you must focus on yourself and be good and happy. I want a happy wife, okay? Not the depressed ones you see in the movies that drink an absurd amount of wine and pass out. I want you to be happy. And if, eventually, I am not part of that happiness, I still want to see you happy." She nods, giving you a light kiss on your hand. "I want you to have fun at the World Cup and kick ass, okay? If you ever need me, I'm a phone call away."
That night was the last time you saw her. You told yourself you wouldn't call or look at her Instagram; it would be too painful. So you decided to distract yourself, of course, still having as first priority the kids. 
-
The first thing you did was go to the pitch. You decided to take Lucia and Ava with you, the older girl was about to start the season in Barcelona B, and you couldn't be happier for her. 
You were practicing free kicks and penalties. You and Lucia were in a clear competition while Ava was just there having fun with the ball. After a while, Ava got bored, so she decided to stay on the sidelines in the shadow playing some games on your phone, which left you and Lucia on the pitch.
"Where is Alexia, by the way? I haven't seen her all morning." She asks out of the blue, catching you off guard.
"She left for the World Cup." You reply coldly, quickly passing the ball from one foot to the other, then shooting hard to the goal post, scoring a top bin.
"Aren't they leaving in like two days?" She replies, clearly not getting the point.
"Aren't you asking a lot of questions?" You glare at her, then realize that your tone slightly hurt Lucia. "I'm really sorry, Lucia. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."
"No problem, I'm used to it anyways." She rolls her eyes, closing off, then walks away.
You were feeling guilty; you really didn't want to hurt her feeling, so you told her the truth, "She left."
"What?" She turns around, looking at you. 
You take a deep breath, "She left me."
"Wait, what? You broke up?" She says, shocked at the revelation, fully turning her body to you, taking a step towards you.
"I don't know. I'm sorry I snapped at you; you took me off guard with the question, and I still haven't fully processed it."
"It's okay. I just overreacted." She pauses. "I'm really sorry about Alexia. Do you need a hug?" She asks awkwardly.
You chuckle. "No. It's better not. If you will, I'll start crying. And I am an ugly crier, especially when it comes to Alexia. And I don't think none of us want to experience that."
"Are you going to be okay?"
"I will be." You release a shaky exhale. "Now, let's go back home. Ava here is getting too bored." You wrap your arm around Lucia's shoulder and take her to her sister.
-
As you get back home, you decide to go and take a shower, and there you silently cry until no tears are left. You then change into something comfy and go outside to your garden, trying to get some fresh air, and for the first time during the day, you check your phone. There were multiple missed calls from Alba and one from one of your best friends, Mapi. You knew that you had to call back both women, so you opted to go first with Alba. You knew it would be a sad call and hoped that calling Mapi after would cheer you up.
Spoiler Alert: It didn’t.
You take a deep breath and call Alba; she almost immediately picks up.
"Y/n, are you okay?" Alba asks almost immediately, quite sadly. You really didn't want her to pity you.
"You already know the answer, Alba." You smile sadly, "How is she?" You couldn't not ask about her; even though you tried to keep some distance, you still wanted to know how she was doing.
"She is miserable and guilty but knows she must focus on herself now."
"Did you tell her she doesn't have to feel guilty?"
“Y/n.” She replies sternly. "She might be my sister, but that doesn't mean I must agree with everything she does."
"Alba, we know how your sister deals with the pressure and anxiety. Alexia has always been very sensitive. She doesn't deal well with that kind of thing; when she was younger, she had her father and football that kept her going on and deal with the pressure. Now she only has football. You can't take that away from her."
"But she can take you out of her life?"
"That is an unfair question." You clench your jaw, trying to keep at bay your own feelings.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry."
"Just know that I only want what is best for your sister, and if she really wants to, she will return; I really hope she will."
"She will." She says a little too sternly. "Or else she won't hear the end of it from me and Mom."
"Just please, stay with her, support her, and care for her. She needs it now more than ever for this World Cup."
You soon end the call after that, and after taking a minute to ground yourself, you call your best friend. She, too, picks up very quickly.
“Y/N!” She screams in your ear excitedly, .
"How was Norway? Did you already come back? Are you already in Barcelona?" You reply as excited as you can, given the circumstances.
"Norway isn't that bad; I missed Barcelona though; Ingrid made it worth it. How are you? How's Alexia?" You could feel her smile through the phone. 
"Mapi, you have been away for a month; I have some news to share, big news, actually."
"Oh my God, did you get engaged?" She replies excitedly; without making your reply, she continues, "Oh my God, I'm so happy for you guys! And yes, of course, I will be your maid of honor, and yes, of course, I already planned your bachelorette par-"
"Maria calmate, I didn't get engaged." You reply sadly while feeling utterly sick to your stomach from the sadness of the situation.
"Then what is the big news to share?"
"I think I need to tell you in person about it."
"Oh, you can't leave me hanging like that!"
"Come over, and I'll tell you." You say, nearly reaching your point of total exasperation, you knew she wouldn't budge, but you also knew it was best to tell her in person that you have children now.
"A small hint?"
Losing your patience from your long day, you went straight to the point, "I adopted two children, and Alexia and I are on a break." You say, feeling a knot closing your throat.
"Ha ha, a good joke; tell me the truth."
"Mapi, I'm not joking." You say while your voice is wavering. She never heard you cry.
"I'm coming over." With that, she closes the call leaving you with a small tear running down your cheek.
You go inside and find the two girls watching something on TV.
"So girls, change of plans; a friend of mine is coming over, so you will meet them."
"Is it someone from the team?" Lucia asks.
You nod, "Guess."
"I know you are friends with Mapi; is it her?" Ava says excitedly.
"Yes, it is her, but that doesn't change anything. Bedtime is always at the same time." 
"But-"She tries to find an excuse, but you interrupt her, "No buts, you will definitely see more of her, so don't worry." She lightly pouts, reminding you of Alexia and how she uses the same facial expression. 
When you hear the doorbell ring, you open the door, finding your best friend in front of you for the first time in a month. You share a hug, then she asks, "So what happened? What is all this about?" Trying to make sense of what you said in the phone call. "Or was this a way to make me come over?" She gives you a mischievous smirk.
"Even though I missed you, it's not. I'll let you meet the kids, and we can talk later, okay?"
"So it wasn't a joke?" You shake your head, annoyed, "Then this 'talk' will take a while.”
She enters your home and makes her meet the girls. In the beginning, Ava was very shy, hiding a little behind you. But, as soon as Mapi began asking for her attention, she gladly gave it to her. Whereas Lucia was trying to keep it cool. 
Your teammate, in the meantime, was giving the older girl a weird look as if she was trying to remember something. 
"Do I know you from somewhere?" She asks, mostly rhetorically. Your friend had a memory of steel. "Wait, you were the girl that won the meet and greet."
Lucia shyly nods.
"I remember you because you were the first kid I met after joining Barcelona. You were so excited to meet your favorite players. But then, when you found out that Alexia and Y/n weren't there, you were so sad." She chuckled. "You must be happy living with your favorite player now." She says while looking at her smirking and then glancing at you.
"Oh yeah, they never shut up about Alexia. It's so annoying." You chuckle, crossing your arms, looking at both girls as if you unveiled one of their secrets.
"Oh no, if I'm not wrong, Alexia wasn't your favorite player," You could see Lucia changing expression in one instance, trying to communicate with Mapi to stop talking, she was shaking her head, widening her eyes. She was embarrassed, and you could see it from miles away. "Your favorite player was Y/n Y/ln." She chuckles. 
You turn around facing her, utterly shocked, wearing a proud smirk.
"She couldn't stop talking about how much she loved to see you play and how she couldn't wait for you to win the Champions League. It was quite cute, actually."
 "Now. Now. Lucia. Now that I have this information, you know you'll never hear the end of it, right?" You chuckle a little, making the girl slightly blush from the embarrassment but quickly recovering.
"You really had to say it?" Lucia asks Mapi, shaking her head. 
"Of course she did! Do you want an autograph?" You joke.
"Oh my God! Stop it!" She says, smiling, clearly not enjoying your teasing.
"Lucia, pay some respect to your favorite player!" Mapi retorts, then she bursts out laughing.
"Yeah, Lucia! Pay some respect. In this household, we don't condone this disrespect, especially when talking about your idols." You finish the teasing while she rolls her eyes, "Moving on, who's up for some food?" You ask, turning to the three girls around you. 
You decided to order pizza again; you really had to begin doing some serious grocery shopping. 
You were so happy that your best friend met the two girls that you loved so much, and you were even more delighted when you saw that they got along great; it was nearly perfect. Only a person missed for it to be perfect. 
That night you played games together, and when it was time to go to bed, Ava apprehensively went to bed after some convincing.
"I think I'm going to bed, too," Lucia said soon after her sister left for her room.
"You know you don't have to; if you want, you can stay with us." You offer.
"Nah, don't worry. I'm tired, and I have some episodes that I have to catch up with." She says, heading to her room. "Goodnight!" She says, while you and Mapi reply in the same way. 
-
After a month of not seeing each other, you were left alone with your best friend.
"So, the girls are great!" She says, clearly trying to begin all the explanations you had to give her.
"Before I begin explaining everything, I need a drink." You go to your kitchen, open the first bottle of wine, and then go outside with your friend.
You sit at the table, basically downing your glass of wine. You took a deep breath then you began explaining everything to her. First, how you met the kids and what made you adopt them, then you talked about what happened with Alexia, reserving some of the most private details.
"She told me she needed a break because she was getting too overwhelmed, and of course, I let her."
"She's an idiot. She'll come to her senses, believe me. You and her work so well together; it's almost annoying. I don't think I could ever see you guys break up." You knew that she would be sad about Alexia leaving you, as she was the person that indirectly put you two together in the first place. 
"Me too. But I guess nothing good ever works out perfectly." You reply sadly, looking at your glass of wine just poured. "I even bought a ring; I would propose after the World Cup. I had everything planned. Our honeymoon, the wedding date, everything. I'm so delusional." You realize, sadly.
"Hey, hey, Y/n, you are not delusional." She reassures you, taking your hand. You look up at her with glassy eyes, looking at her skeptically. "She wants the same things as you do. It might not seem like it right now, but you'll have your happy ending in the future."
"You know what I hate about all of this? The fact I still don't know what made her decide to want to leave me. Is it me? The kids? She said she couldn't deal with the constant pressure anymore, but what made her change her mind about me? Fuck! Am I not enough? In those three years that we've been together, we've gone through so much, from dealing with my own shit to her ACL; I thought that what we had was good, great even. I thought that taking the next step would be the best thing, you know, she would give me hints too that she was waiting for the proposal. So I thought she was sure about us, but I guess I was wrong? I don't know. I really don't know." You sniff, trying to keep in tears, then you quickly backtrack. "I'm really sorry; I shouldn't be dumping you like that; I know I am talking about one of your best friends too."
"No, Y/n, you can talk to me about it. You are one of my best friends too, okay? And I'm here for you. For whatever you need. And now that you have kids. Thanks for telling me right away, by the way," She remarks ironically, earning a chuckle from you, "I'll be the best aunt they ever had."
"I know you will." You give her a faint smile.
--
--
From your talk with Mapi, you realized one thing, which is that the kids should be your first priority, and everything else would come second. 
You tried to deal with Alexia leaving after three years of relationship, in many ways. Normal people would think that you went to therapy, as this whole situation was making your abandonment issues from your parents surf up, but instead, you coped differently: watching Grey's Anatomy, the first seasons obviously. 
That show was oddly comforting for you, for many people, such as Alexia, were adamant about watching it at first. You tried to convince her to watch it for three years, but she never budged. So now that she is gone, you thought it was the best time to watch it again. You usually watch it after Ava’s bedtime. You would put it on your TV for a couple of episodes. Initially, you didn't go in order; you just watched the most painful episodes. In all of this, Lucia would be like Alexia; she would roll her eyes when you watched the show and then go and mind her own business. You often offered her to come and watch it with you, but she wouldn't; you jokingly called her a girl full of prejudice, while she replied that she wasn't as lame and soft as you. But you could definitely see her stealing some glances at the show. 
What you didn't know was that Lucia and Mapi were keeping in touch. A phone call happened, and Lucia told your best friend that you began watching the show; needless to say, Mapi was concerned because she knew that you only watched the show when you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. She told Lucia that she would be coming over soon, as she left town for a couple of days. But you still didn't know that.
That left you one night while you were watching a really intense episode. Lucia came out of the kitchen, passing through the living room, trying to get to her room, but she suddenly stopped looking at the screen. "Wait. Where is the brunette? The best friend of Meredith, I think. Wasn't she supposed to be in the show from day one?"
"She left," you replied, not taking your eyes away from the screen.
"Wait. What?" She says surprised, taking a seat next to you. You gave her a pillow.
"Yep."
"Is it okay if you put an episode from the beginning?" She asks shyly. You beam at her and switch on to the first episode.
And that is how Lucia began watching Grey's Anatomy. And what shocked you the most was that she was an emotional kid, and she got really invested really quickly, but what was funny was that she tried to hide it, but she never managed to do it properly, silently sobbing when characters died.
A week after, you were so invested that you watched it in all of your free time. You knew that it wasn't healthy. Especially for you, but it looked like she was enjoying herself, so who were you to stop her from watching something she loved. 
That day you were watching the bomb episode; Ava left with Nico to get some stuff for his shop, leaving you and Lucia with time to kill, so you put on the show, and both decided you were up for a show marathon. As you got up to get some water for the both of you, you heard a knock at the door.
"Hey Mapi, what are you doing here?" You ask happily, being surprised you were seeing your friend without her telling you beforehand.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing, why?" You ask her, clearly hiding the fact that you were watching Grey's Anatomy.
"You are watching Grey's Anatomy again, right?"
"No, I am not!" You say defensively.
"Stop bullshitting me, Y/n. Do you remember after we lost the Champions League last year against Lyon? You began watching that freaking show because you thought it could bring you some comfort, but instead, it made it worst!" 
"That's not true!" You bark, even though you know it is the truth. "And you can't barge in like this, into my home unannounced, making wrongful claims." 
"Lucia told me to come."
"And since when you and Lucia talk?"
"Since the night we met, so where is she?"
"Oh, you'll love what you are about to see." You chuckle, taking her to the living room.
When she saw Lucia watching the show, her face was adorned with the most disgusted and offended look.
"Lucia?" She says, making her turn around quickly, giving her a guilty expression.
"Okay, this is not what it looks like. It's-It's Y/n's fault."
"Oh don't blame me! I didn't force you." You say, showing the palms of your hands.
"Okay, you two. We are going out. The both of you. We are going on the pitch; get ready. Where is Ava?"
"With Nico." You reply. 
"Tell him we'll be out for at least two hours."
As you get in the car with Mapi, she keeps her eyes on the road without giving you another glance. Leaving Lucia and you with an awkward silence.
As she gets to the parking lot of the training grounds, she makes you exit the car and turns to Lucia. "Have you already been here?"
"Yeah, Y/n takes me at least once a week." 
Mapi looks at you surprised while you comment proudly, "Mark my words, she's going to be the future of Barça." Lucia blushes lightly, staring at the ground.
"I'm not that good." She says, nearly whispering.
"Don't you dare underestimate yourself! At your age, I was not even near as good as you. And you didn't even start training! Imagine then." She curls her lips in a small smile, heading to the entrance of the pitch.
"Did Y/n tell you about how we got the keys to this place?"
"Oh yeah!" Lucia chuckles, "She told me that you got drunk and wanted the keys, and Alexia had to save you."
"So, are we also changing this story?" Mapi asks you accusatively, making you sigh.
"Okay, maybe I embellished it a little." You grin guiltily.
"So what happened?" 
"She was the drunk one!" Pointing the finger at you while you rest your forehead on your hand, shaking your head, not looking at Mapi. "And then, with some excuse that I don't even remember she lured us into helping her get the keys. Needless to say, she couldn't keep quiet, so her plan went to shit. She couldn't think properly because she was very drunk. She called Alexia, who was partying with the other girls because we had just won our first Champions, crying."
"I wasn't crying."
"You were sobbing because you couldn't figure out where the keys were, even though you claimed you knew where they were. And then Alexia came to the pitch, worried sick, and helped us find them. Which is something I would have never expected her to do."
"Well, she definitely told me another story." Lucia chuckles.
"Well, okay, I may have skipped some of the most lame parts of the story because it was the second time I saw you, and I wanted to not sound too lame." You reply, a little embarrassed.
She places her hand on your shoulders and smiles at you. "But you are lame."
"How dare you talk like that to your football idol?!" You say, faking being offended.
"I can, and I will!" She begins running to the pitch while you follow behind her trying to catch her. Spoiler alert: you couldn't. That girl was fast. Too fast.
After a little while, you both stop, taking a break. You put on your shoes and begin passing the ball to each other in a triangle. Then you leave Mapi and Lucia to play alone while you sit on the grass, smiling at their interactions.
-
You were more than halfway through July, meaning the World Cup was about to start. Even though you decided not to participate, you still told yourself you would watch all the Spain games. You had friends and teammates in that squad and wanted to support them. You and Mapi had the same idea, so you hosted a little get-together with other Spanish teammates who didn't attend the World Cup. Of course, you chose to tell all of your teammates about the kids and the adoption but refrained from talking about the Alexia thing. Initially, they were shocked that you had two children now, but then they were very happy for you. 
So you found yourself on the day of Costa Rica against Spain, with many people in your home, all commenting random shit on TV. You were wearing your old Spain shirt with the number 10 behind it, while Lucia and Ava wanted to wear Alexia's. You let Ava wear one of the old shirts Alexia gave you at the beginning of your relationship with her. While with Lucia, you basically forced her to wear a Spain shirt with your name on it, claiming that "You have to wear the shirt of your favorite player, and you are lucky enough that you live with her." You loved teasing Lucia about the fact that you were her favorite player, and loved even more her annoyed reactions.
The two girls looked too cute, making your heart swell. So you posted a story on your Instagram showing the two backs of the shirts and the tv behind, with no caption. You still had to wait for everybody to come when you received a text from Alexia. 
'Love the fits ;).'
You reply almost instantly, with your fingers trembling, as it was the first time you spoke to her since she left that night. 'They look so cute in it!'
‘I still don't know how you convinced Lucia to wear one of your jerseys, though…’
‘Long story’ You simply reply. This conversation confused you, as she wanted to keep talking to you. At the same time, she was the one that wanted a break, but you kept on replying to her, as you really missed talking to her. 
'You'll tell me when I get back?'
You are about to reply when you hear a knock on the door, so you leave your phone on the table in your living room and go to the door. Mapi, Sandra Paños, Patri, and Claudia quickly enter your home, clearly looking for something.
"Nice picture you put up on your insta." Mapi remarks, "People are going to ask why you have two kids on your story and why you were watching a Spain game when you were part of the 15 people that refused to participate in the selecciòn."
"Make them talk about the kids; I'll discuss everything with Lucia in the future. And for the story, I'll just say it was in support of Alexia and nothing more, which is true." You explain to your best friend. 
"So, where are the kids?" Sandra, the goalkeeper, asks you.
"They are in the living room."
After your teammates meet the two girls, you all order pizza and wait for the game to start. 
You picked up your phone and saw that Alexia sent two other texts to you.
'Wish me luck (luck-clover emoji).'
'I miss you.'
You released a shaky exhale and decided not to reply; it was hurting you too much to respond to any of it. It was unfair of her to send you that last text, and it wasn't fair to you to reply.
During the game, when Alexia did something remarkable, as always, your friends, who were clueless about your break with her, would always make little comments about her and you, which you would shrug off, but Mapi and Lucia immediately understood that they were making you a little sad.
Spain managed to win that game by a very narrow margin. 1-0. You knew that they could've won by much more. You could see that by how they played, something was missing. Alexia's performance was clearly below her average, which made you low-key very worried. You see them return to the changing room, and then you switch off the tv. All the people in the room began talking and joking with one another, mainly focusing on the two kids that you had in your home; okay, a kid and a teenager, but for you, Lucia will always be a kid.
After a while, you receive another text from Alexia, making you feel bad that you weren't replying to them. Which she wrote
'You all were right about Jorge. I should have stayed home.'
You reply to this text, saying, 'I'm sorry, Alexia. He's an asshole.'
What actually had shaken you up from the text wasn't the fact that Jorge probably verbally abused many of your friends and teammates from your national team, which still made you angry as shit, but actually was that she said that she should have stayed home. Was she saying that she regretted going to the World Cup? Or was she regretting leaving you? 
Mapi realized you were having inner turmoil and dragged you to your kitchen, asking what was happening. You showed her your phone, and she looked at you surprised.
"Since when has she been texting you?"
"Since today." You put away your phone, "I just don't get what she is doing. What she wants from me. And I know for sure that she is going through worse than me. But this is fucking torture, and the worse thing is that she doesn't even realize it."
Mapi didn't have the time to reply that a very tired Ava came to the kitchen searching for you.
"Mo-, Y/n, I'm tired."
"Do you want to get to bed?" You ask her smiling as you know the subsequent request that she will make. Over the weeks that she stayed at your home, you started giving her piggyback rides to the bed, making her fall into her bed, earning a laugh from her. Then you would tuck her bed sheets, giving her a good night.
She slowly nods, raising her arms and making grabby hands. You chuckle at her and turn around, waiting for her to jump on your back.
You put her to bed, give her goodnight with a kiss on the forehead, and return to the chaos in the living room.
You found your teammates and Lucia outside in your garden, sat down on the couches, actively talking about random stuff that you didn't even want to know about. You went out and sat down next to Lucia and took part in the conversations that were happening.
"Now Lucia, I have a really important question for you." Sandra begins, making the young girls sit up straight, a little worried. "How's living with Y/n?" Making all the people at the table chuckle apart from you. "I ask you this because when this woman here moved in with Alexia, we were really worried for Nala. And also because she has never once made a plant live for at least more than a week."
"Okay, this statement is very wrong. A, I am a great dog mom, Nala loves me, and B, I only ever owned one plant, and I hate taking care of them." You say, clearly, nobody was listening to you but were waiting for Lucia's answer.
"Honestly, she has been very good to us." She replies shyly. "She took us in when nobody asked her to, and honestly, she has been more of a mom to me this past month than my mother has ever been in sixteen years."
You look at her, eyes watering, really shocked about her statement. You give her a small smile, "Stop it, you will make me cry." You chuckle while removing with your fingers the tears forming in your eyes.
"Who would've thought that Y/n was such a softie!" Claudia teases you while you give her a deadly stare.
"Shut up, Claudia." The other girls at the table chuckle softly, then you turn to Lucia, "I'm really happy you feel that way." You hug her, and you give her a small kiss on the temple.
"If you will excuse me, I'm going to bed now; remember that tomorrow we have training." She reminds you, you slowly nod at her, and then she turns to your teammates, "It was so nice meeting you all; I hope I'll see you again sometime. Good night." All your teammates say goodnight to her, and as soon as she leaves for her bedroom, they turn to you.
"That revelation must have hit you like a ton of bricks." Mapi jokes.
"Oh, you don't even know. I wasn't expecting her to say that; she's not the kind of girl who likes to 'speak her feelings.' But it was a nice surprise."
"They are good kids, really kind and smart. You must be so proud of them." Patri speaks up.
"I am. Ava is so smart and sneaky, you don't even know. Whereas Lucia she's a really good kid, she will be playing for Barcelona B this season. I'm so proud of her; she'll surely be our team's future." 
You say proudly as if you were speaking about your own kids, which slowly you realized that as time progressed, those two kids became so much part of your life that now you couldn't see yourself without them. For you, they were your kids, but you knew that it wasn't right to both of them for you to call them that, they already had a mom, and you didn't want to make them feel like you were replacing her.
"And with Alexia? How are they getting along with her?"
"Oh great! The younger one has her wrapped around her little finger. You all know how Alexia is with kids. Ava found out how she can make her say yes to everything she wants, so that's that. Whereas with Lucia, they bonded over football and dogs."
"You all look like a happy family."
"Yeah, I guess." You chuckle sadly, trying to keep up the façade that you and Alexia were still together.
After approximately half an hour, all your guests left, leaving you alone in the house, wallowing in your pit of misery. You were so happy that Lucia told you what she had told you, and there was only one person that you wanted to tell, Alexia. But you couldn't, and that realization left you helpless.
You go to your bed, which had been half undone since Alexia left, and you lay on it, still smelling her perfume from her pillow. You really missed her. So damn much. 
You turned on your phone one last time before going to sleep. As Mapi predicted, you received many comments about the two kids and why you were watching the Spain game, but what worried you was your agent, who texted you.
'Call me as soon as possible. I don't care if it's midnight."
You decide to call him immediately, hoping he wouldn't pick up. He picked up, telling you how the story you put on Instagram makes many people ask questions, making you roll your eyes.
-
The next day you wake up after approximately two hours of  tossing and turning in your bed, and go downstairs to your kitchen; you give Nala something to eat and make her go outside. You prepare coffee for yourself and wait for the girls to wake up. 
You were scrolling through your phone when Lucia and Ava came to the kitchen for breakfast. Fortunately, after more than a month, since they moved in, you managed to get something to eat for them for breakfast, so you didn't have to go to your brother's place every day.
Lucia sat at the chair next to you while Ava tried to sit on the kitchen countertop, as she saw you many times sit there, but she couldn't because she was too short, but she wouldn't surrender. So you chuckled, then picked her up and put her where she wanted to sit.
"What are you doing?" Lucia asks, trying to peek at your phone.
"Did you open my Instagram yesterday?" You ask her.
"You might be one of my idols, but I don't stalk you on Instagram; I already live with you." She threw her hands up.
"Look at my story." You push her phone to her hands, and she picks it up and goes on Instagram.
"Wait, this is us!" She says, smiling shyly. Ava snatches her phone from her sister to see the picture, making the owner of the phone grunt from irritation, the older girl tries to physically take back the phone, making them have a small fight.
"Okay, girls, it's nearly nine a.m.; it's too early for this type of physicality. Ava, give back the phone to your sister." The little girl huffs and reluctantly gives the phone back.
"So, what is the problem with this picture?"
"People are asking who are the kids in the picture, so I thought I would post about it to get my agent off my back. Is it okay for you? I chose a picture in which you can't see your faces, so you won't have any problems." You reassure the older girl, showing the picture on the phone. 
It was one of the first pictures you took together. The first one, Alexia, took it, and it was the first time you hung out together, all four of you. Ava was very tired and fell asleep on you; Alexia took a picture and sent it to you the day after. You couldn't see the sound girl's face in it, but it was evident she was a child. 
The second one instead was a picture of you and Lucia playing football, you didn't remember who took it, but it appeared on your phone. You fell in love with the photo right away. You were possessing the ball, and Lucia was trying to take it away from you, but you were pushing her away laughing. When you saw both pictures, they became your top three favorite pictures of all time. 
The third picture being with you and Alexia you took when you won your first Champion's League together. You had just started dating and thought you couldn't be happier at that moment, but boy, you were wrong.
"I love them." Lucia simply says, nodding. 
"I don't like my picture!" Ava says, crossing her arms on her chest and pouting.
You chuckle at her antics, "What do you have against it? It's cute!"
"It's not cute! I'm sleeping." 
"Okay, why don't you decide the picture." You offer, giving you her phone, on the album where you kept all the pictures with the girls.
She casually lands on a picture you took of her and Alexia petting Nala, which you thought was beautiful and sad. Making you rethink your life choices again in the past month.
"I want to put this." She says, giving you back the phone.  
"I'll think about it." You give her a smile, then go back to preparing breakfast for them, thinking you'll finish the post that night.
That day, you had a lot of things to do. One is enrolling Ava in an elementary school and then bringing Lucia to the pitch to help her train for the season. You decided to multitask. You took Lucia to the pitch, then left for the school with Ava, and then you'd leave her with Nico and then go back to the pitch to Lucia so that you could train for preseason in Mexico.
Needless to say was that when you got home, you were exhausted. After the tough training that you and Lucia just endured, you both decided to shower then the both of you found yourself lying frozen on the couch with the AC on, waiting for Nico and Ava to come back home to dinner.
Fast forward to three weeks, and you still had to do the post; you opted out of it because you thought the pictures were great, but you knew something was missing: Alexia. How could you post about your family when a huge part of it was missing? So you decided not to post anything, hoping she'll return to you. 
You were all now watching the Spain game against the US. The same at your house for the Panama game was again at your home. Spain barely got out of the group stage, with all the players clearly missing the spark they usually had. Matches with the US have always been challenging games; they were 4-time world champions for a reason, but more than that, the majority of the players in the USWNT played in the US, so you weren't even used to playing with them in a club. 
Needless to say, Spain lost that game badly. Jorge was fuming. You could see it from the screen. He would scream at his team at any time, especially with Alexia, making you extremely worried. Alexia didn't deserve it; nobody did. He was acting irrationally for the world to see how bad of a manager he actually was. 
The US team was over the moon when the final whistle blew, whereas Spain was shattered. They were all on the ground with their hands covering their faces. Then Alex Morgan walked towards your ex-girlfriend, picked her up from the ground, and gave her a small pat on the back for encouragement. It really hurt seeing the love of your life this hurt and distraught. 
You see her go to get water near the bleachers, then the camera frame Aitana Bonmatì, which she was too standing up, but then you see her begin running. The camera changes the frame again, and you see where Aitana is running to. Alexia was drinking from a Gatorade bottle, and Jorge approached her. He snatched it harshly away from her and began talking angrily at her. You couldn't hear what they were saying to each other.
Still, you knew Alexia wasn't having any of it, chuckling sarcastically and shaking her head. He reacted by grabbing her by the arm. In the meantime, many of your Spanish teammates that have seen the scene unveiling, ran up to their captain, trying to make him take his hands off her. Ona even forcefully removed his hand from Alexia's arm, giving him a death stare. As she saw her teammates swarm her and their trainer, Alexia put a hand on Ona and Aitana, trying to stop them from doing something stupid. At the same time, Jorge kept screaming at all of them. 
You and your Barça teammates were watching the scene on TV and looking at each other worried. You were frozen and scared, hoping that things wouldn't go sideways than they already were. FIFA was about to intervene when Jorge just finished screaming when Alexia shook her head and left the pitch, practically stomping. The game's broadcasting went to the ads, and you all looked at each other.
"What the fuck just happened?" Map was the first to speak, all turning to her while you still stared at the screen. Many voices were talking one on top of the other, but you closed them out, trying to think about your next step. You knew that if their interaction had lasted more than it did, you would've probably already been at the airport.
What brought you away from your spiral of thoughts was Ava calling out your name. This made you snap out of your trance and realize that also Ava and Lucia probably saw the same thing as you and many other kids around the world. 
You went before her and then kneeled so she wouldn't have to raise her head too much.
"Y/n, why was the coach screaming at Alexia?" She asks worriedly with her head down.
You didn't know what to say to her; you couldn't possibly say that Jorge was an asshole who couldn't interact appropriately even on a worldwide broadcast.
"You know, when a person is sad and angry, they sometimes take it out on others even though they don't deserve it. That's what happened, even though you should never have your feelings out of control." She nods understandingly while you gently take her sides, "Now, why don't we go outside and get ice cream together?" She nods excitingly. "I have to make a phone call now. Can you stay with Mapi until I am back?" You look at your best friend; she gives you a slight nod, then turns her attention to the younger girl. 
You go to your room, and the first thing you do is call Alexia. It goes to voice mail. And even though you hate leaving voicemails, you do.
"Hi Alexia, it's me, Y/n. I think you probably know that already. I saw the game today. I'm trying to say that please call back as soon as possible, or even just text me to let me know you are okay. And I know we're on a break, so I must give you space. But just please let me know if you are okay. I love you." You say, probably holding your phone too tightly, trying your best to find the right words.
Then you text Alba, which you haven't heard from her since the day she called you.
'Hey, Alba. I know that you are in New Zealand right now. I just wanted to ask you if you had heard anything about Alexia. Is she okay?'
Then you send a text again to Alexia. 'I saw the game today. Can you call me when you get this text, please? Or if you don't want to call, just tell me you are okay.'
Then you took a big breath to ground yourself. You told yourself to put your concern for Alexia in little boxes in the back of your brain. You had to be strong for Ava and Lucia. 
You went downstairs to the girls and found your house empty, only Mapi and your kids.
You give the woman a puzzled look. "They left about two minutes ago. And the kids are outside playing with Nala. Did you manage to get a hold of Alexia?"
You shake your head. "I send her a text, and Alba too. I really hope that she's okay. That interaction looked like a lot. And for the whole team to intervene seemed like he was saying some hurtful stuff."
"I sent a text to Aitana to ask her what was going on. She told me that some hurtful personal stuff was said to Alexia. They haven't seen her since then."
"I mean, should I be worried? I know that we aren't on talking terms right now, but she is still someone I still care very much about."
"It's okay to worry about her. I know for sure that she won't be MIA for much long."
"Thank you for taking care of the kids, I'm sorry I left in such a hurry, but I had to make the phone call, ya know."
"If it were Ingrid, and I was in your place, I would've probably done worse." Her confession made you chuckle. 
"So, ice cream? You don't have to come if you don't want to." 
"Of course, I'm coming! I still have to beat Nico for top place as aunt/uncle!"
"You are an idiot." You say, laughing. 
You go outside and call the two girls; Ava goes straight past you to Mapi, whereas Lucia, Shows you the thumbs up and asks you, "You okay?". You nod, giving her a weak shoulder pat, making her enter the house.
Every ten minutes, you would check your phone in the hopes of notification of Alexia, but it was useless. Good thing that Mapi was there, keeping the kids busy. 
You were taking a walk when Alba called you. 
"I'm sorry I have to take this." Your mouth to the defender that it was Alba and move away from the three girls.
"Hi Alba, how are you?"
"I'm good; we are about to go back to Spain. Tomorrow we have the flight."
"Say hi to Eli from me, okay?"
"Oh no, she told me to pass you the phone when we are done talking. What are you doing?" Even though you have known Alexia's mom, she has always been scary to you, especially when Alexia was on the line.. 
"I took the kids for some ice cream with Mapi. Right now, they wandered off, probably looking at some squirrel." You chuckle, smiling at the thought. "Have you heard from Alexia?"
"Nope, she didn't even call mamá. But strangely, she is not that worried. I think she knows where she went."
"At least one of us knows." You say hopefully.
"Mamá wants to talk to you," Alba says, passing the phone to her mom. 
"Y/n, how are you?"
"I'm good, Eli. How's New Zealand?"
"New Zealand is nice, but Barcelona is better."
"No doubts about that." You chuckle, agreeing.
"How are the kids? Are they behaving well?"
"They are wonderful; you should come to dinner as soon as you get back." You say politely.
"Now, I know you love my daughter very much, right?" She asks you authoritatively, making you subconsciously make your back straighter.
"Yes, I do very much."
"When she'll come back to you because she will. Make her work for it." Your face turns into a weird and confused expression. "You two are perfect for each other and complement each other perfectly. That is why I gave you my blessing to propose to her a year ago. But when my child comes to her senses and apologizes to you, if you want her back, which I really hope you do, make her earn it."
"I will." You say, chuckling. "I'll make her sweat a little."
"Good. Now I'll let you get back at it with the kids. Give them a hug from me. And take care of yourself, with ya?"
"I will. Have a safe flight."
-
The rest of the day and the next day passed on rather quickly. You were still worried, but somehow, after the call with Alexia's mom, you were worried less. You knew she was a nearly 30-year-old independent woman; she could care for herself. 
It was approximately 11 pm. You had just put Ava to bed, and Lucia was already to bed, ‘Claiming’ that she was tired. You thought she was hiding something from you, but you weren't worried about that. When she is ready, she will tell you. At least, you hoped. 
Alone in your house, you wondered if this was like rich housewives felt when they waited for their husbands to come home, except that you didn't have a man, nor a woman, for that matter. 
So, willing to get the whole desperate housewife experience, you decided to do the most typical thing they could do. Which was pouring yourself a glass of wine or two and hoping for the best. 
You tried to find the cheapest bottle in your kitchen and opened it immediately; as you were about to put the wine in the glass, you heard an insistent knock on the door. You checked your time and wondered who in their right mind would knock at someone's door at past 11 pm.
You go to the door and open it.
"Alexia?"
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toadstoolgardens · 1 year
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Low-Maintenance Gardening
There are so many reasons to choose a low-maintenance garden. Gardening should be a peaceful and fulfilling hobby, not something that adds stress or causes pain. A beautiful, bountiful, low-maintenance harvest is possible!
Annual Crops for the Low-Maintenance Garden
These set it and forget it crops have a long season, don't need a lot of babying, and usually get harvested all at once. Many of these can also be grown in raised beds, and some in containers (potatoes grow great in a 5 gallon bucket!!) if that's best for you.
Ideal Annual Crops: These can all go into cold storage for up to 8 months.
Garlic
Onions
Potatoes
Sweet Potatoes
Winter Squash
Beans
Pretty Good Annual Crops: These need some attention after harvesting for them to last as long as possible.
Broccoli
Brussels Sprouts
Cabbage ^^^Refrigerate these 3
Watermelon (Go into cold storage whole and last 2-3 weeks)
Tomatoes (You can grow determinate tomato varieties for a bumper crop that's harvested all at once. Sit tomatoes at room temperature 2-3 days and then process. Freeze, can, make sauce with them, etc.)
Herbs for the Low-Maintenance Garden
Herbs are the ultimate low-maintenance crop. So many options and they don't mind being ignored and can easily be grown in containers.
Ideal Herbs: These herbs are perennials and come back every year with just a little work on your part. All you need to do is prune them down to 5 inches once in the late spring and once around August to keep them growing indefinitely!
Chives
Oregano
Thyme
Rosemary (If you live in hardiness zones 7-10)
Pretty Good Herbs: These are annual herbs so you'll have to plant them each year. Both of these are also favorites of pollinators and beneficial insects!
Basil (put basil sprigs in a glass of water in the kitchen, change the water every few days, and after a while they should root for easy planting)
Cilantro
Fruits for the Low-Maintenance Garden
If you have the space and means to grow fruit trees or shrubs, they're an excellent low-maintenance choice. They bear a crop year after year with a little pruning (prune once or twice a year) and adding some compost or organic matter (once a year).
Ideal Fruits: These have a long storage life and require little processing after harvesting.
Apples
Citrus Fruits
Grapes
Pears
Pretty Good Fruits: These have much shorter storage life.
Berries (Grow a ton of fruit without much coaxing, but highly perishable so need to be eaten or frozen/processed after harvest)
Pawpaws (If you live in hardiness zones 5-9)
Plums
Some Tips for Low-Maintenance Gardening
Spend 15 minutes a day in the garden, whenever possible. This daily visit doesn't have to be spent working, especially if you're lacking energy, time, spoons, etc. It can be spent observing, enjoying, and just being in the garden, which is just as important as the doing!! Notice the changes as the days, weeks, and seasons change. Enjoy the plants, insects, birds, and other critters you've invited into your garden.
Mulch like a motherfucker. After planting, mulch that garden! A good mulching keeps weeds at bay, making less work for you.
Stagger harvest windows. Plan your planting times so you only have one or a few crops coming to harvest at the same time. This also allows for full appreciation and enjoyment of each crop, hopefully without burnout or overwhelm!
Put it on the calendar. Write down planting, harvesting, and pruning windows for each crop.
Most importantly, BE GENTLE WITH YOURSELF. Gardening, even a low-maintenance garden, is hard! You will lose plants. You will lose crops. You will make mistakes and have failures. You weren't able to get to the garden and all your sprouts died? That's totally okay and you can always start them again! You weren't able to harvest in time and the birds got all your berries? You're welcome, birds! Do your best, do what you're able, and you're doing amazing!!💖
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