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little-diable · 3 months ago

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Broke my heart and called me pretty, won me back and called me his - Tyler Owens (smut)

Watched Twisters again and I simply needed to write another Tyler fic. I listened to "Pretty Slowly" by Benson Boone while writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler had ended his engagement to the reader years ago, all for her to chase her dreams. But when he turns up as a guest for her lecture, both find themselves thrown back into the love they still feel for one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho

Pairing: Tyler Owens x professor!fem!reader (4k words)

“(Y/n)?” Her eyes flickered up from her notes, watching her assistant take a step into her office. With a soft smile playing on her lips, (y/n) waited for Alice to keep on speaking, knowing that she must leave for her upcoming class in a few minutes.

“There’s been a scheduling problem with your guest for today’s lesson, they sent somebody else. He’s waiting outside for you.” For a second, she only stared at Alice, letting the words sink in before her annoyance and anger could clash through her. Organising guests who were willing to speak to her students has always been a struggle, she spent hours on finding the right people and now she couldn’t help but curse them for not giving her an earlier notice.

“Send him in, thank you, Alice.” (Y/n) began to collect her notes as the elderly woman left the room to fetch whoever was waiting outside, buying herself some time to remain calm. Deep breaths left (y/n), fighting through the uneasiness she couldn’t shake.

The sound of boots meeting the ground rang in her ears, and suddenly her body began to tense, freezing on the spot almost. Somehow she could feel him before she saw him, instantly knowing who was about to enter her office even though it had been years since they had last seen one another.

“Would you look at that, I’ve always wondered what your office looks like.” His voice shot shudders down her spine, a reaction she had once been all too familiar with but couldn’t help but curse now. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her eyes wander over his features, fuck he was still as handsome as he had been all those years before.

“What are you doing here, Tyler?” Her voice didn’t carry much strength, just enough to draw his wandering eyes back to her. Tyler studied her for a moment, keeping his distance while both seemed to get lost in the draw they had felt ever since their first date, knowing that the other was the one - or at least it had always felt like that.

“Jake gave me a call this morning, told me he couldn’t make it. And since we were in the area anyway, I didn’t mind stepping in.” A scoff clawed through (y/n), followed by the shake of her head. She kept her eyes focused on her things while she rose to her feet, set on getting this over and done with as fast as possible.

“Of course you didn’t mind, the holy saint Tyler Owens just can’t help but present himself at any given chance.” His hand shot out to catch her arm before she could brush past him, forcing (y/n) to stand close to him.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favour here, least you could do is treat me with some respect.” His voice still had that southern drawl to it she had longed to hear for way too long. She had deleted all his socials, hadn’t talked to any of their shared friends, no matter how many times she had longed to do so - even thinking of him hurt still too much.

“Respect? I’m amazed you even know what that word means.” Both looked at one another for a moment, caught up in the memories that still haunted them to this day. Perhaps it could have been different. Perhaps they could have still been together if their path hadn’t been forced to an end years ago.

“I did what was right, you can paint me as the bad guy, but don’t lie to yourself, darling. I did it for you, and I would do it all over again.” She ripped herself out of his grasp and muttered a small “Follow me” before leaving the room. Tears threatened to build in her eyes, forced to remember the day he had broken up with her, weeks after he had asked her to marry him. Deep down she knew that he was speaking the truth, if he hadn’t broken up with her, she wouldn’t have followed her dreams to study overseas to end up where she was now. And yet she hadn’t been able to let go of her hurt to this day.

The sounds of their shoes meeting the cold ground was the only thing that could be heard, nothing but heavy steps that felt like they were moving towards their end once again. Ancient lovers reunited in their last hour on this earth, and with one last chance they were offered to find their way back together. A chance that was now slipping through their fingers.

“Good afternoon.” Her voice boomed through the big room which was filled with students who all instantly stopped speaking. Tyler kept his distance, waiting near the door while studying her every move. This was what he had hoped for all these years ago. For her to end up right here, doing what she had always dreamt of doing.

Parts of him had cursed himself for ending their engagement, but as much as he had wanted to follow her and help her chase her dream with him by her side, he hadn’t been able to leave. He had broken both their hearts with hurtful words spurred on by the anger he had directed at himself and at the circumstances he hadn’t been able to rip himself free from.

“This is Tyler Owens, I’m sure some of you may know his channel. He’ll talk to you about storm chasing today, please bear in mind that you’ll get enough time for questions after his talk.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to get lost in the eyes she had always tried to look for in every room. Eyes that had once held their shared secrets. Eyes that had watched her grow into a young woman after meeting when they had been mere teenagers. Eyes that still appeared in her dreams whenever her mind needed a reset from the battles she was currently fighting.

The sound of loud claps filled the room, he moved closer with a smile glued to his lips - a smile that slightly began to drop as she mumbled a quiet “I’ll be in my office” while brushing past him.

……

“Hey,” Tyler’s voice filled her office. A soft sigh left (y/n) as she forced herself to look at him, unable to bite down the hurt that had been clawing at her skin since the second he had first entered her office hours ago. “You missed an interesting class.”

“I,” she cleared her throat while shifting around on her seat. “I watched the stream. You were good, they loved you.”

“Well, what can I say? We have a big fan community.” A soft laugh managed to leave her before she could stop the sound, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Will you grab dinner with me? I think we’ve got some catching up to do.”

She should have said no. She should have kindly told him that she had other plans. But knowing that she’d most likely not see him again for years and years to come felt like a punch to her gut. So all she did was nod her head and grab her purse, ready to leave her office for the day.

No words were spoken between them as he guided her towards his truck, the same one she had seen in his videos. It felt strange being here with him, sitting in the truck that added to this internet persona of his she was a stranger to, barely recognising the man he was now.

“It’s bigger than I expected it to be.” (Y/n) blurted out the words while she looked around the truck, watching Tyler drive them to the spot he seemed to have in mind. The smirk tugging on his lips told her that she had just shared something she shouldn’t have, letting him in on the knowledge that she was watching his videos every now and then.

“I always wondered if you were watching us. They miss you, you know.” Nothing but a hum managed to pass her lips, unable to speak up as her throat grew tighter. It had been years since she had last seen his crew, the people she had once called her friends and had cut off the second she had left home, unable to think of anything that had something to do with Tyler. Years had passed before (y/n) had allowed herself to get back into all things storm chasing, which also meant catching up with Tyler and his work.

“I miss them too.” Her eyes flickered down to his right hand which seemed to move in her direction but before Tyler could touch her, he pulled back again, balling a fist that rested on his thigh. It hurt her more than she had thought to see him like that, seemingly struggling just as much as she did with their newfound distance after all these years. And yet they were still bound together, by something neither could put a finger on.

“Thought we could visit Mary Jane’s, for old times’ sake.” She couldn’t reply, not when one memory after another caught up with her. They had lost count on the amount of times they had chased in that area, grabbing dinner and coffees at Mary Jane’s at any given chance. A bittersweet memory that only worsened the heavy feeling settling on her chest.

After parking the truck, she watched him round the car to help her down, keeping his hand placed on the small of her back for a second too long. It felt as if Tyler had to force himself to let go, to remember that she no longer was his to touch, even though it only felt right to keep close.

“So, tell me, professor. What did I miss? What did you do the last few years? Your mom didn’t tell me much.” Her focus was ripped from the menu at the mention of her mother. She hadn’t told (y/n) anything about being in touch with Tyler, hadn’t dropped his name once. Every now and then (y/n) had wanted to ask about him, knowing that her mother was most likely at least watching his videos, but something had always held her back. Perhaps she had been too scared to hear of stuff she wouldn’t be able to stomach, wondering if he had moved on, if he had found another woman to spend the rest of his life with.

“You’re still in touch with her?” The approaching waitress momentarily distracted them both, taking on their orders while (y/n)’s gaze kept flickering back to Tyler. Seeing him again had made everything more complicated, a distraction she hadn’t needed, but as much as she wanted to run and hide from the past, she also couldn’t stop herself from wanting to ask all these questions burning on the tip of her tongue.

“Well, I call her every Christmas and on her birthday, and she does the same.” An unjustified anger simmered inside of her, drawing a frown onto her features while averting her gaze. It felt unfair that he and her mother had kept in touch, sharing details about their experiences and what they had done over the past years – all while (y/n) had fought so hard for a clean start away from her past. “Hey, look at me, pretty.”

“Don’t call me that, Tyler.” Hurt flashed over his features, a sight that only worsened the pain she felt deep inside of her.

God, what was she even doing here? There was nothing left to say, nothing but a proper goodbye so she could go back to her day and forget the pain she had tried to bury six feet under.

“Listen, (y/n).” Tyler reached for her hand before she could pull away, forcing her to keep her focus on him. “I didn’t do it right back then, should have sat you down and told you everything I feared and worried about. I should have given you the chance to make this decision for yourself. But I don’t regret giving you an out, you deserved to experience every dream, everything you have worked so hard for. Don’t blame me for wanting you to live the best possible life you could dream to live.”

“But what if all of those dreams had lost their meaning without you? What if nothing worked the same way without you by my side?” A tear dripped from her eye before she could try to wipe it away. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t read what was swimming in his pupils. Nothing but hurt and confusion that made her pull her hand away from his big one. “This was a mistake.”

She pushed herself out of the booth and rushed outside while more tears kept on falling. The shaky exhale leaving her drowned out the sound of Tyler calling for her, catching up with (y/n) before he pulled her against his broad chest. Sobs clawed through her as Tyler’s hand kept stroking up and down her spine, holding her close.

“I got you, darling, I always will.”

……

“Here, do you need anything else?” It had been hours since her breakdown at the diner. Hours that had been filled with a shared dinner, memories that had been whispered about and eventually a drive back to her place. It had already been late by the time they had left Mary Jane’s, leading her to invite Tyler to stay in her guest room for the night.

“I’m alright, thank you, darling.” Tyler shot her a smile before he pulled her in for another hug. With a kiss pressed to her hairline, he eventually let go of her, watching (y/n) leave the room after a few hesitant seconds.

Her heart was racing until she found herself laying restless in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The past hours kept replaying, flashing past her open eyes while wondering if Tyler had managed to fall asleep. Seeing him again had ripped open all old wounds, leaving her confused and torn between too many sensations. For the last years she had tried to move on, had gone on many dates that had led to nothing but a hopeless feeling that she may never get over Tyler and the love she still felt for him. A feeling that had now resurfaced once again.

With an annoyed sigh clawing through her, (y/n) left her bedroom again, freezing in her step as she found Tyler’s frame standing near the window in her living room, staring down on the city. Slowly, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around herself as she came to a halt next to him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His raspy voice made goosebumps rise on her skin, forcing her to shake her head while trying to keep her focus on the lights. A few seconds of silence passed before Tyler wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her against his side. “I missed you, pretty.”

This time she didn’t comment on it, could only push herself further into his embrace to search for his warmth. Wordlessly Tyler pulled her along to her sofa, plopping down on it before she placed her head on his chest, falling back into a routine that felt too familiar.

“Do you think we would have been married by now if things hadn’t ended?” The question was whispered, rolling off her tongue without giving it much thought. (Y/n) had always wondered about their wedding, how it would have played out, who they would have invited and where it would have taken place.

“Oh, for sure. I wouldn’t have been able to wait much longer before calling you my wife.” His soft chuckle vibrated through both their bodies, drawing a smile onto her lips.

“I was so excited for it. It would have been the best day.” Tyler tightened his grip on her waist while pressing another kiss to her hairline. For a moment, neither of them spoke, keeping quiet as their thoughts began to spiral. She felt his muscles tense beneath her, making her wonder what he was about to speak while the night wrapped its comforting veil around them.

“It can still be the best day.” Her heart skipped a beat, wondering what he meant by that. Her eyes found his, seeing the way he was torn by whatever kept buzzing through his mind. She wasn’t sure what he meant by it, and yet the way he looked at her, filled with something she hadn’t felt in years, left her wondering if he was still talking about the two of them.

“What are you saying, Tyler?” His hand came up to cup her cheek, feeling her warmth pressing against his hand. Seconds of silence blurred by, making both their hearts race while he fought to find the right words.

“I won’t ever be able to love anybody the way I love you, and that will never change. And judging by what you told me, it’s the same for you. Marry me, for real this time.” She pushed herself off his chest, rising to her feet with a teary laugh that was torn between excitement and sadness. (Y/n) stared down at him with her fingers buried in her hair, trying to figure out if this was just a joke fate was playing on her.

“That’s insane, Tyler.” He mimicked her movements to draw her back in, hands resting on her waist.

“You know what they say, pretty, if you feel it, chase it. And I’m so tired of living this life without you by my side.” Her body forced her to move, to close the distance between them with her lips finding his. Electricity buzzed down her spine, forcing her even closer to deepen the kiss. Kissing Tyler had always been an experience to say the least, two magnets that fit together, an explosion of heat and longing, and yet this felt even better than all these years ago. It felt right, more right than anything else.

Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up, forcing her legs to find their way around his waist. Tyler carried her back to her bedroom, letting them rest on her mattress with him hovering over her.

“Do you mean it? Really mean it?” (Y/n) mumbled the question against his lips. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, a warm touch that communicated what both felt at that moment, an undying longing that grew stronger with every passing second.

“Marry me, (y/n).” Another laugh clawed through her, a sound that turned into a moan the second his lips found her neck, kissing their way down to her collarbones.

“Alright, I will marry you.” Tyler kissed her again as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt to pull it over her head, exposing her naked frame to his wandering eyes.

“You’re even more gorgeous, fuck. I can’t wait to make you mine again.” Her eyes fluttered close as he tugged on her panties, pushing them down her legs. Tyler’s mouth kissed its way to her aching heat, groaning the second he tasted her again after all these years. With both arms slung around her thighs to keep her close, he ate her out, letting his rough tongue brush through her slit before sucking on her pulsing bundle.

Moans and groans left both, high on the different feelings both were held hostage by. No longer could (y/n) remember if being with Tyler had always felt like that, all she knew was that she never wanted this moment to end. She’d happily be stuck in time like that, forever reunited with the one that had gotten away.

Tyler let his gaze rest on her pleasure-drunken features, trying not to get too eager while his hardening cock begged for her attention. He’d fuck her all through the night and then some more in the morning, having to burn every passing moment into his mind to fight against the fear of waking up in a few hours from a too good to be true dream.

“Tyler,” his name rolled off her tongue, spurring him on to push her over the edge. (Y/n) had her back arched off the comfortable mattress, hands fisting the blanket while her first orgasm clashed through her like a ship hitting the cold ocean ground. She lost control of the moment, could only give room to her sounds the blinding sensation pushed through her.

He kept lapping at her folds, prolonging her orgasm while he couldn’t bite down his proud smirk. Tyler still knew her body like the back of his hand, able to map her out even with both eyes closed as if she had always been his.

“What will it be, darling? What do you want?” Tyler’s voice had grown lower, raspier even while he still lingered between her trembling thighs. He watched her heavily exhale, needing to ground herself before letting her twinkling eyes find his.

“I need you inside of me, now, Tyler.” Without having to ask twice, he followed her command, getting rid of his shirt and his tight boxers before finding his way back to her. He watched her fish for a condom, helping him roll it down his length as both their hands shook from the anticipation and excitement they couldn’t shake.

Somehow it reminded her of her first night with Tyler, the first time he had fucked her in the back of his truck in the middle of nowhere. It had been the best night of her life, or so she had always thought - until today at least.

With his lips pressed against hers, he kept himself close as he pushed into her, slowly. Both groaned at the feeling, no longer used to being connected this intimately. She clung to him with her nails clawed into the soft skin of his back, needing to adjust for a few seconds before a soft “please” managed to leave her.

They weren’t in a rush, weren’t set on chasing a high within a handful of seconds, but it felt too good to have one another back again, set on giving their all to the other. Every thrust hit her swollen spot, every thrust reminded (y/n) of the way Tyler had always managed to make her feel - as if he was the match setting a petrol station ablaze, a heat so strong it could melt her skin right off her body.

Forever his, forever hers, a story so complete, neither could manage to put it into words.

Their bodies met with every faster growing thrust, set on feeling her walls flutter around him while he kissed her breathless. She stared up at him, getting lost in the eyes that were filled with a love so strong, she was sure that neither of them would be able to let go ever again.

“Atta girl, you’re doing so well for me. I got you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck while he deeply exhaled. Both tried to drag out the moment, hoping that they could stay connected for longer, but their bodies had other plans, needing another high while falling off the edge together.

Tyler’s hand found her right thigh, pulling it closer to her body to hit deeper spots that made both groan. She snuck a hand between their bodies to circle her pulsing bundle, desperate for the relief cumming around him would push through her. Encouraging praises and sweet nothings left Tyler, spurring her on to let go before he could.

And then (y/n) came again, high on everything he embraced while another moan left her. Tyler fucked her for a few more moments, chasing his own orgasm before he groaned against her warm skin. The feeling buzzing through them both only grew stronger, keeping them united while they tried to catch their breaths.

“Are we really doing this? This is insane.” Her breathless laugh filled the room, leaving Tyler chuckling while he lifted his head off her chest. He looked at her for a moment, pressed a kiss to her slightly swollen lips and then pulled out of her.

“We are, and I can’t wait to finally call you my wife.”

#Tyler Owens smut #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens imagine #twisters #glen powell

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wosofutbolfan · 4 months ago

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When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse.

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there.

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ” Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you.

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder. Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training.

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence.

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it.

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final.

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter.

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it.

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry.

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you.

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet.

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over.

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes.

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you.

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend.

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused.

She was banned from playing.

The team lost.

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in.

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.”

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex.

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror. Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him.

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years! You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met! Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?”

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go.

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her.

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder. “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps.

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper. You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old. “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble.

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath.

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim.

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa.

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible.

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin. You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives. You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens” you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will.

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex.

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage.

You didn’t care.

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia.

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.” Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.”

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay.

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking.

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain.

She took her role seriously, she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers.

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite.

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba. But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention.

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first.

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy.

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow.

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down.

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately.

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family. As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.”

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.” All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall.

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back.

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply,

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears.

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding. The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction.

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.�� “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days” you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.” You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table, a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination.

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland?

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach.

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice.

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.”

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up.

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin.

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable.

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch. “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck.

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.”

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy.

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed. “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there. I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces.

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes.

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of.

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace.

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated.

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off. Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?”

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing. “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what? A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers. She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was.

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship.

Finally, Word you were alive.

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

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

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writingquestionsanswered · 5 months ago

Note

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

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sugaredrhubarb · 27 days ago

Text

A QUICK GUIDE TO AO3 CUSTOMIZATION FROM SOMEONE WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT CODING

ft adding pink to everything and my secret to writing long comments

note: I originally posted this to twt but if that place burns in a fiery pit I spent too long on this for it to disappear, so I'm putting it here too :)

so many people know way more about this than I do, but this is a step-by-step walkthrough of the changes *I've* made, and hopefully it works as an introduction people can build from for whatever they'd like to do

There are a lot of images in this post! (click to enlarge)

to start, AO3 skins

site skins change how the AO3 website appears when logged in (even on mobile), mine is pink and blue!

I'll have my skin turned off throughout the post so the guides appear as they will for you

to create, edit, and view skins, go to the "skins" tab from the left-hand menu. you can also view public site skins from there or from the button in the preferences.

public site skins are made by other users. i would really encourage previewing and exploring them to become familiar with the possibilities (maybe you just want to use one of them and now you're done!)

to create your own skin

on the skins page, click "create site skin"

if you don't know CSS (same), use the wizard! clicking on the "?" will give more information about each option

I only use the colours section you'll see a link right there for hex codes I use pink as a header colour and bue for accent but lots of people change the background colour and that looks really cool!

submit

The next step is to add CSS from a public skin to your own. I use "ByLine" by Branch. this separates the tag categories and adds spacing to make them easier to read.

here is a before and after using the fic "Landslide" by @roosterbruiser as an example

to see the CSS of a skin, click the title

copy all the text below the CSS heading

in the skin creator/editor press the custom CSS option and paste all the text into the CSS box

you can have both wizard and custom CSS settings, in mine you can see the header and accent colours as well as the CSS

level up: USERSCRIPTS

userscripts are small pieces of code that modify a website. for AO3, this may involve adding shortcuts and buttons or even advanced tagging functions (computer people, I'm so sorry if this is wrong, I'm trying). I use Greasy Fork and Tampermonkey.

This is how I write long and formatted comments!

Greasy Fork is an archive of userscripts and Tampermonkey is a browser extension and userscript manager. You don't need to use these two in particular. please use your common sense when downloading anything or adding permissions to your browser.

Greasy Fork guide on installing fics

Install Tampermonkey on Chrome

there are TONS of user scripts for AO3. This is another good opportunity to explore all the possibilities. there are lots of more complicated options I haven't explored.

scripts for AO3

i use this floaty review box

and this comment formatting

EDIT: if you use chrome you might need to turn on developer mode in your chrome extension manager - you can google "tampermonkey developer mode" and it should explain that :)

to install (once you have Tampermonkey installed):

open the script you want in Greasy Fork and press install

Tampermonkey will open, press install again

clicking the Tampermonkey extension will let you toggle scripts on and off, and opening the dashboard will let you view, edit, and delete scripts

i find i can only have a few turned on at a time before they cancel each other out, but that depends on which ones you're using and someone more savvy might be able to fix that

how to use the floaty review box - write more comments!

there will now be a "floaty review box" button at the top of the work, it will open a floating text box you can move anywhere on the page. highlighting any text and pressing the insert button will paste the text with italics into the box

anything you type in the review box will appear in your comment at the bottom of the page!

if you have also installed the comment formatting script, you'll be able to highlight any text in your comment and use the new buttons above the comment box to format it

thats all ive got! Hopefully this is a good starting point to get familiar with some of the terms and basics for skins and scripts <3

if you want some inspo for how to comment on fics i made a whole fic rec list on twitter based on comments I've left, it's here. i have a masterlist of recs there mostly for darklina/reylo and similar ships.

the tag #reading with ru has cod recs and me talking about books

#please no one follow me from this im never helpful otherwise #ao3 skins #ao3 #fanfic #ao3 community #fandom #ao3 resources #im sorry if the image quality is awful lmk if I should clarify any of the text!#floating comment box #floating review box #ao3 guide

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cannellee · 9 months ago

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TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! shinichiro x omega! reader (smut)

— soft sex with alpha!shinichiro

my masterlist : ☆

(pls enjoy this as this wasn't supposed to be what I should've posted tonight. it just happened that while writing a smut story about baji, I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and it removed me from my draft, while of course DELETING the whole thing I spent 2hours writing. I'm absolutely devastated and certainly not gonna pick this story up anytime soon, it'll have to rot away between other neglected drafts until I've forgotten all about this awful event)

alpha! shinichiro will take it slow. dragging his long fingers across your soft skin. they're rough to the touch but his caresses are so gentle it melts your mind into a puddle.

he's engulfing you in his pheromones, that's the only thing you can breathe and shinichiro loves to see you get high off of his scent. it makes his alpha all proud and satisfied.

with all his kisses, shinichiro succeeds in drawing a few moans from you, encouraging him to keep pleasing his omega even more.

he loves it. loves the way you ask for more, loves the way you cry his name and clings to his neck. he wants to carve in his mind the way your face twitches every time he reaches a certain spot, praising you for taking him so well.

shinichiro takes care of all of your needs, letting you indulge yourself into the blissful pleasure he's giving you. he's nibbling at your neck, the exact spot he knows is most sensitive. the thrill of having your alpha lick and suck such a vulnerable spot puts you in a submissive haze. you're all too ready to obey, omega instincts praying you to satisfy your alpha, mind all fuzzy.

it's clear to shinichiro that you've now switch to a more comfortable space and he lets you, still fully pleasing your body the way a good alpha should.

he's touching you with wonder, breath irregular with the way your sweet pheromones are reaching his nose. he's hugging your form with adoration, his hips are moving rapidly, setting a pace he knows will put you to sleep for a few hours after that. his hands are behind your knees and the position allows him to reach deeper inside of you. the pleasure is almost too much and shinichiro's satisfied growls triggers your body to produce more slick. you're dripping wet and the lewd noises of skin hitting are not even loud enough to cover your moans.

shinichiro is also on edge, feeling himself come close he stimulates you with his fingers even more, never letting you rest. he's getting rougher, messing the nest you're in at the same time. he's sucking and biting your neck, whispering in your ears about how good you feel and how full he'll make you.

shinichiro can't help but be swayed by the thought of his pretty omega all swollen because of him. he imagines you carrying his pup, belly huge and a motherly smile on your face.

it makes him want to stay buried inside of you, until he's sure his fantasy will come true.

he feels himself coming close and in one swift motion, you're back on your knees, ass up and chest touching the mattress. you're seeing stars and shinichiro manhandling you like you're some light doll stir up something inside you.

he's biting the mark on the back of your neck, reclaiming you by renewing it. the pain laced with the pleasure he's giving you makes you shake, shinichiro feels it. his praises become clumsier, "good girl"s being whispered at your ear along with deep moans, and his movements loose their harmony.

he's reaching his own high, telling you take it. and take it you did. feeling yourself come loose too, you cum at the same time. shinichiro's chest pressed against your back, you can feel his erratic respiration. he gives you a few thrust, slow and nice to finish you off.

he falls back in the nest, dick still inside. he hugs you from behind and you both stay here until you drive off your high. a content smile is on your face, feeling his soft dick slipping out of you, your gummy walls letting out a few drops of cum with it.

and you then fall asleep to shinichiro's kisses and praises, his reassuring administrations setting your mind into a deeply satisfied haze.

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jjungkooksthighs · 6 months ago

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Claws of Carnality | jjk (m) (16)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: (fluff, angst, and smut) abo/werewolf, fantasy

Rating: 18+/nsfw

Word Count: 14.3k (We really said it's been almost a year so we're going to write thirty plus pages)

Summary:

At the bathhouse, you discover your alpha is much worse is off than you originally anticipated. You tend to him, but some scars never fade.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER INJURY, LOTS OF BLOOD MENTIONS, GORE, MENTIONS OF BROKEN BONES, MENTIONS OF LOSS OF BODY PARTS, dom!jungkook, alpha!jungkook, sub!reader, omega!reader, cursing, praising, possessive!jungkook, teasing, marking, manhandling

Author's Note:

It's been awhile since I updated. Honestly, the grown-up life is rough. That's all I really have to say to answer for the extended hiatus with this story and my other one. Mental health has been going up and down periodically and it really was so hard to write through it all. I spent about two weeks going back and forth with the chapter. I wondered if it would ever make it to a post several times because things kept getting deleted. I finally decided to just sit down and write and not stop. This is the final result. Thirty-one pages. I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry that this isn't the long-awaited mating chapter that I know you guys all really want to see, but it is important to me that the characters are nuanced and that their connection is not one built purely on the basis of desire. Sure, that is part of it, but there's much more to it. So much more depth and meaning when we build relationships with people. Especially romantic ones. Enjoy!

To read more, click here for the masterlist.

“O-over there, alpha,” you quietly suggest, “It would be easier for me to-“ you flounder in flusterment when the strong arm circled around your front curls possessively around you- “I-It would be easier for m-me to tend to you if you sat down on the bench.”

The male makes a deep, rumbling sound as he draws in another heavy breath of your intoxicating pheromones, “As you wish. But it will cost you for being so irresistible.”

The sound goes straight to your cunt, and you have to bite into your cheek to keep from making the sound of need that your wolf begs you to release. You shift where you stand, hoping that the quaint press of your thighs together will somehow trap the slick from where it is secreted from your sex.

“What…what is the price I must pay for my transgression?” You ask, hoping that balms, ointments, and medicinal solutions splayed on the tray you hold in your hands don’t fall from how much your heart pounds in your chest.

It’s hard enough as it is not to look down, for he is completely, utterly, and mouth-wateringly naked.

“Two things,” his uninjured arm tightens even more around your front, his hand bunching itself in your skirt as he groans at the fresh scent of desire that drifts from you. “The first is you will not leave my sight. I want you as near to me as you can be.” He noses at the side of your throat, your lashes fluttering in the warm sensation of his breath as he utters, “It was a second hell to leave you after that duel and be without you, but I wanted to respect the tradition–and your decision– had you chosen to prepare yourself for me.”

His words have affection swirling in your chest.

This male really was something special. Even after battling three other wolves and being severely injured on your behalf, he still put your needs before his own.

And really, how could you deny him his request when that was all that you wanted, deep down? To just be by his side. Forever his loyal, loving, doting mate.

“You needn’t ask me that, alpha, for it was already in my mind.” You faintly confess.

He likes that answer.

You know based on the way he presses his mouth to the oily gland along your throat. It is gentle and soft, and it is so different from what you’d seen on the glen not too long ago during his duel.

So much violence and so much pain he was capable of bringing, but with you, he would never harm a hair on your head. So great was his love for you that he would protect you from that even if it meant taking those scars onto his body.

He’d given his oath to you that he would do exactly that, and gods, he had kept to it.

It is why you let him maneuver you forward away from the watery basin you’d found him in and toward the long ebony wood bench that almost stretches from one end of the chamber to the other. A tall pillar of white wax holds a flickering wick that is set in brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling on each side of the bench, and in front of its legs are caged candles guarded by glass that have high, bright flames.

“How agreeable you are being. If you can so easily agree to that, then the second of my terms is this.” He turns you both before the front of your knee can make contact with the wood, the arm he has encircled around your waist spinning you so that you face him.

His hand never leaves your side, his fingers remaining entrenched in the sea of your skirts. Somehow, none of the vials fall from the tray you clutch onto.

Golden irises that burn with more intensity than the fire beside him have you utterly struck by their luminousness as he demands, “You will promise me that if this,” he jerks his chin toward his mangled form, “is too much for you, you will tell me. I said before that I only wanted you to tend to me, and I meant it. But if you are uncomfortable, you must say so.”

Again, he was putting you first. Despite the fact that he was hurting, he was still choosing your comfort over his own.

Just how much more could your heart swell for this male?

You shake your head, finding your voice full of doubtlessness and confidence that surge into you as you say, “I want to do this, alpha. I spent years studying the art of medicine and herbal treatments so that I could one day use it to help others.” You rise on your tiptoes to osculate your lips against his. “I would be lying if I told you I hadn’t secretly wanted to learn it mostly for situations like this.”

He smirks against you, his mouth lingering near yours as he teasingly prods, “Situations like this? Are you saying that you thought about getting me shirtless and all alone so you could touch me under the guise of that excuse?”

Heat races to your cheeks and that confidence you’d had before vanishes with it. Soon, you’re blushing as you blurt, “No! I mean, yes! I mean….alpha!”

Years ago, you had never entertained the idea that this male before you would ever become yours. That you would ever be able to have a moment like this with him. He had been a constant thought in your mind from the moment you’d first laid eyes on him when you’d been but children, and as you both grew older, his presence in your mind and thoughts had only grown stronger.

But apart from your dreams and musings, he’d been so far for you to reach with all the duties and responsibilities that had been thrust on you from such a young age. So many other omegas had vied for his attentions, and with all of them clamoring for one look in their direction whenever he had returned to the compound from his exploits deep in the forest or in the forge where he had been stationed, you had never been able to get close enough with a constant herd of wolves –female and male alike– around him.

His rank had drawn many to him, each of them hoping that the next in line to be the ruler of the pack would select them to be part of his inner circle. Any selected by him would instantly rise in rank upon his ascendance to becoming Pack Alpha, and so naturally he had had to be guarded in his interactions and limited in his contact with others beyond his work in the forge as the pack’s only blacksmith beside his father.

Rumors had spread fast in his unannounced absences that he would take with his father for increasing increments of time the older he became, because when he returned to work at the forge, there were bags under his eyes that had become more mature, had become hardened with the calluses on his hands as he worked them day after day.

Sometimes he would return with a new wound on his body that he tried to hide under the various furs he draped over his body. You knew because of the chitter of the omegas that would inevitably gossip about in front of the fire in the omegean den on your way back to your chambers after a long night in the archives that you went to after you left the schoolhouse for the day.

Those were the nights that you found your paws bearing down on the grassy ground as you ran through the hills deep in the woodland in your journey toward your favorite creek that was tucked away behind a wall of vines, deep into the forest, that no one but you knew about.

Or so you had thought.

He’d been there, too. From a distance, of course. From the moment you stepped out of your chambers, he’d been able to smell you. The wind had a cunning way of carrying that to him no matter where he was, and he was helpless to the wolf in him he had been learning to control that bayed and bayed until he listened and tracked that captivating scent that made everything else in the world fade away.

You wonder, as he urges you between his legs that he opens for you in invitation to stand between, just how much he had to sacrifice to be sitting before you now.

Your alpha observes your expressions change from embarrassment to concentrated concern, and he tugs on the invisible cord tying you both together that is the bond you now share. You let him in without hesitation, your thoughts becoming known to him as he draws on the connection.

He can hear your thoughts, can feel your emotions, can see your memories if he taps into it. In the developing stage of the bond, you wish you knew how to show him all of your dreams of him, all of your memories of him, and all your thoughts that you’ve ever had of him.

There’s something that you want him to see, but gods, your voice just won’t work the way you want it to under the emotion that cracks and breaks it. So, you let him see a memory you’d kept buried deep in the trenches of your mind for many, many moons. One that no one but he would ever carry.

It had been a rainy, stormy night. So heavy was the rain that it pelted your skin even through the thick coat of your white fur as you’d torn through the earth with paws too eager to rush you away from the center of your stresses and away to the woodland where it all melted away with the streaks of color that passed by you in your inhuman speed as you ran, ran, and then ran some more.

Thunder had rumbled through the sky on this particular night so loud that even your eardrums rang after the deafening strikes of sound that cut through the sky as lightning flashed before your eyes from under the canopy of trees.

The forest was vast, but that night, it had seemed all too small for you.

You hadn’t stopped until your lungs screamed for air, your haunches burning from how hard you’d pushed them, the bolt of white light in the sky similar to the color of the flame that had burned in the stone fireplace set in the middle of the wall on one end of your chambers while you’d carefully, attentively read the letter left to you on your windowsill.

Such a beautiful poem about a boy who had come to love the girl he admired from afar. And so meticulous had each letter been etched onto the parchment. You knew whoever had written it had taken much time to compose it with each swirl and curve of each syllable.

You had left it on your bed while you had gone to find another book to hide yet another letter from your secret admirer with no name, but had not noticed the shadow that had swept under your door to reveal your father, who had taken one look at the letter on your duvet before anger had turned him cruel at the prospect of his perfect little girl being corrupted by some hormonal male.

He'd cast the parchment into the fire despite your ardent pleas not to, the tears falling quickly when he’d let that fury burn you with pokers of curses and chastisements for your lack of purity.

He had always been adamant that you were to study the ways of the pack and devote yourself to teach its art to the youth. Those letters, to him, were nothing but distractions. Distractions that made you no better than the common whore in the fantasies they would ineluctably fill your head with.

Or so he had said.

That was why you had found yourself bounding through the forest that night with tears in your eyes not even the rain could wash away. But that night, fate had had other ideas.

You’d intended to go to the cave by the creek. You had never made it inside.

You’d stopped behind one of the oak trees on the edge of the forest floor before the soil turned to rock by the stream, the wide-mouthed cave beyond occupied by two figures.

Just by the smell of them, you knew they were of the same blood. One was older with their more muted, aged smell and one was younger.

You knew the scent of the younger one. That scent of blooming gardenia, pear and black vanilla. The same one that lingered on the letters left to you on your windowsill.

Each time the lightning pierced the black sky, their figures flashed. And each time, the two were locked in combat. Each held only a small iron dagger, their fighting leathers more than enough protection for them both lest either were struck by the other.

Unable to look away, you found yourself moving closer until you hid safely behind a thick, bountiful bush and could discern voices. Their voices. Only bits and pieces could be made out through the rainstorm, but it was enough.

“…too slow, son….can’t keep putting your arm up like that…too open and easy for me to…”

The next split of white light through the black sky illuminated them both, and the slightly shorter male with hair the color of ebony had a knife at his throat. It was held there by his father, who shook his head in disapproval as he gripped the younger male’s forearm in a vice-like hold.

“…cannot protect her if you cannot protect yourself. You are not ready.” The older male had decided. “Until you are, you will not see her. Even from afar.”

Another lightning bolt ruptures the clouds covering the moon, and a younger Jungkook had let his dogma guide his blade as he had voiced:

“Eventually I will be. And when I am, she’ll be mine. Not even her father will stand in my way.”

The next time the streak of lightning found its way through the atmosphere, the older male had been twisted around, his arm held behind his back while the younger alpha had pressed his blade to his father’s throat.

A self-satisfied grin with pointed canines protruding from under his upper lip had made your beating muscle in your chest stutter as he had released his father from the binding hold he’d had on him.

You could have sworn he looked right at you from behind the mess of leaves and brambles.

When the white fulmination cleaved through the clouds once more, your heart stopped when his father had quickly captured his son’s wrist to the hand that held the dagger by his neck only to bend forward and rotate forward, effectively flipping Jungkook onto his back. Jungkook, who had been unprepared for such a technique, had been brought to the craggy ground with a grunt, his other hand shooting out to grab for something, anything, to find purchase in as his knife fell from his fingers. Jungkook was fast, but his father had simply been faster.

The older male had easily used the momentum of move to step around and over Jungkook’s now prone form. Jungkook, who had been propped up on one elbow with a sharp looking rock held in his now bleeding hand from the blade of the dagger that had cut into his palm in the fall. It laid too far for him to reach, the essence of his defeat staining it.

White electricity strikes yet again, the deep rumble of thunder loud under the pounding of blood in your ears.

“Distracted. She occupies your mind even now. That…is dangerous, son.” The older male with gray streaking the black hairs stuck over his eyes had said. “Too dangerous for you to be allowed near her until….oncoming rut is over...”

That was the last thing you heard before there had been a flare of heat on your right, the rift of lightning arcing along the old oak’s stump beside you as the clouds clashed and loud sound pierced the earth.

You hadn’t even flinched. That didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the alpha on the ground who’s scent clung to the parchments that made you blush, smile, and kick your feet while you coveted them close to your chest as you wished to the gods that whatever force was keeping him from your side would release him.

The fascination that had turned every letter of his had tilled the very hard edge with which he spoke as he growled, “No. I cannot go through that again. You cannot make me.”

“Won’t I?” His father flipped the dagger in hand. “You’re on the ground right now because you cannot keep your mind off her. What is to stop you from venturing into her chambers tonight when you inevitably begin thinking of how good she smells? Of how pretty she looks when-“

Jungkook had pushed up on his hand, the other holding the rock slicing the air close to his father’s thigh. Each side of the older male’s mouth pulled downward, the metal of his dagger gleaming as sparks had flown upon impact of the pointed edge of the rock hitting the blade with such force.

“Don’t.” Jungkook’s jaw tensed. “Do not dare to say the things I mutter in my sleep when you have me chained to the fucking trees.”

His father had shrugged. “Then become stronger for her. Until you can, you’ll stay here, deep in the woods. Far away from her.”

The cords in the younger alpha’s neck went rigid as he scowled. “I will find my way to her. One way or another.”

With that, he’d pulled his knees toward his chest before punting his father in the chest with his feet. Such energy he’d used to push himself back from the older male as he’d used the force of the action to drive his feet over his head in a backward roll, his bleeding hand reaching around the hilt of the curved dagger on the ground. When he’d gotten to his feet once more, he had bared his teeth with determination set into those expressive features of his.

His father had nodded in approval, “That’s the spirit, son. Never accept defeat. That’s how you win.”

The clash of metal had soon become drowned out by the outpour of rain, but not even the water could snuff out the iotas of light that came at each powerful strike of their blades against each other.

Hours must have passed, but you swore it felt like it had only been minutes as your eyes followed the younger male everywhere he went, his wild dark locks sticking to his forehead and sides of his face as he moved with purpose and confidence.

There was an art to his movements as he continuously, mercilessly brought down his blade on his father’s. Time and time again.

Whether he held a quill or a blade in his hand, he was filled with purpose. Purpose that was entirely carved by you.

It had taken his father being backed into the stream for you to realize that you were too close. And that the air had become too thick to push air through your lungs as the organs in your chest contracted too deeply?

Why had it suddenly become so difficult to breathe?

Jungkook wades into the stream up to his calves, not willing to let up on his father despite the water urging him with its flow against him.

The closer he got, the more labored your breaths became.

You needed to shift. You needed to shed your heavy furs that had been drenched by the rain.

But to do that, you had to leave him.

So, you did. Quietly, you slipped into the night, careful not to make any sound lest you drew any attention to yourself. You hadn’t known you’d been holding your breath until you found your way back to your chambers, your footfalls light as your furs had begun to fall away from you. After you’d collected the rainwater you’d left in a barrel outside your window in several smaller bowls and emptied them into the cauldron hung over the metal hook above your fireplace to heat what would be your bathwater, your hands had sought the comfort of the thickest bound book that you kept on your bookshelf.

You had been too hasty to get to the dog-eared page you’d marked in the book, accidentally tearing the page before finding what you’d come to your book for. Inside it was tucked your favorite letter left to you on your windowsill. One that you found yourself rereading night after night.

It read:

The moon pales in comparison to the light that twinkles in your eyes,

The stars tremble in awe of your brilliance,

The night must blanket them and still, you offer more warmth,

Warmth that not even the sun can make as pleasant,

Warmth that the clouds could not even shade,

Warmth that no rain could fall with,

The flowers around us bloom, but none blossom with the beauty and grace of you,

The seedlings take root, but gods, none do so like the one you’ve planted in me,

The water they draw into themselves is life-giving, but yours is so much nourishing,

Still I sit here, hoping that you will allow me to bask in your radiance,

Still I sit here, promising that I will grow stronger in body, soul, and mind to be at your side,

Still I sit here, thinking of you when I cannot see, hear, or touch you as I do in my dreams.

Wait for me, my beautiful flower who only becomes more alluring under each moon.

Wait for me, and I will be your loving attendant,

Wait for me, and I will be yours.

You are forbidden to me now, but soon, you will not be. Soon, I will make you mine.

You will never have to look longingly at the wolves who hold and dote on each other while your only partner is the books you keep in your library. I will be everything you want me to be if that is what pleases you.

You will always have a shoulder to lean on, an ear that will listen, a hand that will caress you.

You will always have me.

You will never have to spend your nights crying into your pillow alone because of your father. I will be there to hold you close. I will be the fists that pummel him to the ground for daring to hurt you. Or anyone else that meddles your happiness.

All I can do for you now is watch over you from afar. Guard and protect you from the males I know you do not desire. From the females that have become venomous in jealousy of your unmatched intelligence, spirit, and beauty. From the threats that loom deep in the forest.

I hope you can forgive me for keeping my name and a face a secret from you. I suspect by now you have figured out who I am. And if you have, you will then understand why I commune with you this way.

The elders, nor your father, would allow it since you have not yet presented. Besides…it looks like I have some developments myself that I need to make. You have so consumed my mind and body that I can no longer make sense of certain things.

You are everywhere and yet, you elude me. It is the most tragic of ironies.

Until we meet again, my fair flower. I will see you long before you see me, but you can always find me in our dreams.

Always.

-Your Alpha

The air here had been clammy, too, so when you had let your thumb brush at the corner, the oils from it smudged the ink. Panic stole your breath and you not wanting to blemish the beautiful lettering, you’d slipped the parchment under your pillow and gone to the window to open it in hopes of letting some crisp, fresh air in.

Even here, you could still hear the clang of metal from the forest under lightly falling raindrops. You had let your body move on its own when you’d leaned out from the ledge of your windowsill that was only a few feet from the ground, the baser part of you subconsciously trying to be near to him despite the space between you.

That muggy draft that had clung to your ribs still did not dispel as the cold drops trickled down your body, the tears of the sky slow in their consolation as they dribbled along your arm as you lifted it up and stuck it out of the window.

It still wasn’t enough.

You needed to be able to breathe. And thankfully, you knew just what to do from all the books you read.

Hot water could provide relief to respiratory issues.

Your eyes landed on the largest of the wooden bowls you’d used to collect water from the barrel of rainwater outside, each of your hands holding it as you’d dipped it into the cauldron over boiling water, careful not to let it burn your fingers as you brought it to the tub, the sloshing of it causing you to stare down at it to see your reflection.

Your mouth was ajar with partially sharpened teeth that had not fully shifted back yet, your face flushed with redness and your eyes… your dilated pupils, now the color of the sun where they were usually silver like the moon, glowed back at you.

You blinked rapidly, surprise lighting up your face as you gaped.

Your wolf had been scratching at your psyche to do something about the irremovable weight that felt like it was pushing against your organs.

Another bout of thunder rolled through the sky from outside the semi-circular opening in the wall along the far end of the small, square room. The accompanying flash of lightning brought with it the deadly gleam of daggers behind your eyes, the image of Jungkook’s blood staining it in your mind’s eye as the suffocating pressure in your chest worsened.

You’d had to sit on the edge of the tub, unable to get air between your lips and before you could think, you raised the steaming bowl over your head and let it pour over you.

Its cascade down your flesh had immediately silenced your wolf, who preened at the hot sensation of the liquid all over your flesh. Everywhere the water touched, it washed away the uncomfortable weight that had smothered you so.

When you looked into the mirror across the room, the gold in your irises had been swept away with the last drop of water to leave only silver.

Your surprise had been doused until its remnants became distress as you looked up at the moon, your hands coming together before your bosom as you bowed your head in deference to ask, “Please, gods, do not let him suffer for me. Wherever he is, please, protect him from harm. Keep him safe.”

You’d gone to bed that night without bothering to dry off, the lightest of layers heavy on your skin as hushed prayers and pleas for his safety left your lips while you held the letter he’d left you against your thudding heart.

Words have a way of failing you when he’s around, but that? It was so much easier. So much better when you couldn’t find language sufficient to let him know what you wanted to say.

He seems to understand, because then he’s releasing your skirts and grabbing the wooden tray of salves, gauze, and other medicinal solutions with his uninjured hand and, lost in his eyes, you don’t even realize he’s put it beside him until his voice finds you through it all.

You need not worry for me, my love. I have everything I need right here. I may have had to grow up faster than everyone else around us, but I would do it all over again if it meant that you would be mine.

You only notice your hands are empty when you go to brush your forehead against his, your unoccupied hands lifting to cradle each side of his face as your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to fall.

“You are too good to me, alpha. I promise you that you will never have to be alone again. Not now, and not ever.” You pledge as you kneel between his legs, reaching for the thick roll of white translucent fabric with a loose, open weave. You take it between both hands, your mouth setting in a thin line as you rip it so that you have two moderately sized pieces while your alpha takes in the image of you on your knees before him.

“Nor do you, my love. I am officially yours now, just as you are entirely mine. No one can deny us from each other anymore.” He professes, lifting his unharmed arm so he can sweep your hair out of your face while you work.

It was no small thing to allow an omega to do this. The action was something of a rite that went back to the earliest of their ancestors. When an alpha was harmed in battle or in the hunt for prey, the omega that he let dress his wounds, by doing so, accepted the bond between them. To allow an omega to see an alpha at their most vulnerable…it was a very special, intimate moment.

And you knew of that. He knows because the thought surfaces in your mind the moment you daub the dry fabric against the top of each pectoral where four dark and furiously red lines curve diagonally downward and end on each side of his pelvis. Blood beads the incisions that Yoongi’s serrated claws had left, and the tears that had threatened to fall before fight against the entrapment of your eyelids as you try to blink them away.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, alpha?” You ask with the guilt weighing at your words as you uncork one of the small ovular vials containing a yellow liquid, the woody-sweet scent pungent in your nostrils as you use the oil left by crushed eucalyptus to clean your hands before you pour it onto the strips of fabric you’d just torn and after, you push the cork into the vial and set it down before you.

You let guilt drag each of your hands containing the gauze downward very lightly as you follow the large virgules of red. Where you normally would admire the strong, defined contours of his chest, now, the sight of it has woe whispering in your ear.

His skin is hot to the touch. As if fire burns under his flesh. So fuming and inflamed in the redness that surrounds the gaping, curling lacerations. Both sides of his sternum have been raked– no, ripped–through by sharp claws. Yoongi had cut into your mate’s skin eight blood red half-moons; four on either side of his chest that were turned away from each other, their ends incurving from the base of his neck all the way down his torso and even along his hip bones. Layers of crimson ooze and leak down his body like water, and the sight has something in your bosom tightening in on itself as your vision becomes cloudy.

Somewhere down between the middle of his pectorals, the cloths become too saturated and heavy with blood to soak up any more.

Perhaps the tangibility of his suffering is what finally has the tears falling down your cheeks, the burning in your eyes unavoidable no matter how many times you try to blink it away.

Despite that it feels as if fire sears him everywhere Yoongi’s claws had been, there is worse pain to be felt. Like the gut-wrenching punch that is delivered to his belly when he sees the first of your tears slide down your face.

With the hand he has on your chin, he tilts your chin up as he answers honestly, “Nothing harms me more than watching the light of my life weep for me.”

“I…I can’t help it, alpha.” You respond dolefully, your own stomach dropping to the bowels of your body at the high volume of blood he’s losing so quickly. He’d already turned the entire tub of water he’d been in red, and still he bled. If this kept on…

You don’t let that thought continue. You can’t.

You drop the sopping cloths into an empty glass container you’d put next to the roll of gauze only to take the roll between your hands once again. This time, you do not stop unraveling it until you have much thicker stretches of cloth folded into squares. You do not forget to grab the vial of yellow fluid once more, the viscous oil slow to make its journey to the cloths. You lightly press them against the spots you had had the other ones placed against. The second you put them to his mutilated flesh, they slowly turn crimson. The more they are stained with his lifeblood, the more you are soused with leaden compunction.

It burns, yes, but your sadness smolders him more.

“You are blaming yourself for this.”

It is not a question. It’s a statement.

You draggle each of the gauzes down along the underside of his pectorals, letting them rest there as you watch them turn completely red with his blood.

Momentarily, you wonder if the silvers he’d put on you before would be able to numb the contrition that pulls your spirits away from you.

Your mate will not have any of that.

He runs the pad of his thumb along your chin as he coaxes, “Peer into my eyes, Y/N.”

Unquestioningly, you do. He’s more than earned your obedience. What you see in the depths of those orbs is unending and bottomless in the plunge to the part of him that he would never show anyone else. The part of him that he had kept buried and sunken in wait for the right creature to unearth it. So many masks he had had to wear when so many had ulterior motives and designs around him, but this creature before him? He would break them all to pieces so she could see him for what he really was.

Once, he had asked his father how he would really know if anyone wanted him for him and not his power or his rank. His father had simply laughed and told him: You won’t. All you can do is watch and wait to see someone’s true colors when they think no one else is watching.

This creature before him who cried in the face of his pain and suffering did so out of pure, genuine sorrow. He could feel it sinking your spirits, your very thoughts through the bond. He could see it deep in the valley of your eyes that are, even in the guilt that tries to make them cloudy, drizzling with love for him.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were true and that you were absolutely, unequivocally his. That is why he allows the walls of his reservedness to crumble as he confides:

“Hear my words, my love. This is a result of my own weakness. I teased you before about you wanting to do this. But know that you are only in this situation because I wasn’t strong enough to do what I needed to do.” He doesn’t let go of your chin. With his other hand, he places it between your breasts. The action has him sucking his lip between his teeth as excruciating pain shoots through his upper bicep where the flesh has been torn from limb. A river of red gushes from the open wound, but it matters little to him when pangs of your heart are slower even than his as if it, too, was sulking itself in blame. Despite the way his split blood vessels cry more tears of blood in the movement, he goes on with a grimace, “I know what you’re thinking, my sweet, beautiful girl. You are not to blame for this. Do not pity me. Do not feel guilty for me. If anything, I should be the one pitying you for having to tend to me for such serious injuries.” He leans forward, his lips meeting the flesh between your brows, “I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you with only a scratch. But I meant every word of what I said when I made that oath to you that I would protect you with my body. My body can be mended. My soul, if it lost you, could not.”

The male before you shouldn’t even be able to move in his condition.

And yet, he does.

For you.

Your own emotions crack and fracture under the seriousness of his words and unhesitant ministrations. Each is packed with the mass of his candor and you can’t stop yourself from pouring your heart out to him.

“You ask me to simply accept this…this agony that you must be feeling, alpha, and I,” you cry out,” I cannot! I care too much for you to simply turn off my emotions. I cannot do it!”

You lift the strips of soddened fabric away from his chest through eyes full of tears, your sight descending to where you hold them in your now shaking hands as you place those, too, in the same glass bowl as the others. “You ask me not to blame myself, but your wounds…they are there because of me. And they are serious. Serious enough that if this keeps on, you-“ Your sniffle, shaking your head in unwillingness to finish the unbearable thought. You take the gauzy roll in your hands once more and unwind it, you have to rely on muscle memory because at this point, the constant slew of tears is too much for you to see through.

Your alpha’s eyes soften as you try to rub at your own, your tear-streaked cheeks sullied by the tracks the salty water had left, the fresh blood that now covers your hands a stark contrast to the darker, dried blood he’d painted on you earlier during the Smearing.

Why did that make you look even more beautiful to him?

“I’m not asking you to simply turn a blind eye to your feelings, sweetheart. Such a task would be difficult for anyone with a heart to attain.” He brings his lips under one of your eyes, the tang of salt and iron left on his lips as he does. “What I ask is that you try not to blame yourself for my errors. It is my misjudgment that earned me more scars. These are not the first, and they likely will not be the last.” He turns his head so he can leave a soft, featherlight kiss under your other eye. “These scars shall be proof of the trial I had to face to earn you. And I would take hundreds of thousands more of these for you. If I had lost an arm or leg tonight, I would have been alright with it. Your smile and your happiness are worth that much to me.”

The sound of the white fabric shredding between your fingers is muffled under his voice. It’s as if your senses have been dulled to all but him. Even the firelight fails to crackle in your ears amidst the steady beat of his own heart while you tremblingly let the lip of the vial teem with the oil that smells of honey, mint, and citrus.

“My happiness should never come at the expense of pain or suffering, alpha,” you murmur mournfully as you eye the bawling gashes of scarlet.

You crimp the gauze into two thick squares once they have been wetted with the oil before holding them down over the underside of each of his pectorals. You wait until the part in contact with his frayed skin is steeped in scarlet before you flip each of them over and depress them along the arched curvatures going in opposite directions toward each side of his pelvis.

His lips tighten, wrinkles forming where none existed before when you tenderly wipe away at the jagged ends of each of the four lines on either hemisphere of his torso where Yoongi’s claw had pierced the deepest, not bothering to hide his expression from you now at his most vulnerable. There was nothing to hide now. No reason to keep his pain from you when he knew that doing so would just upset you more.

It pains you to see him like this. You wish there was a way for you to make it all disappear, but unfortunately, there were no medicinal or herbal remedies that had the power to do that.

“Such is our way, omega. It is my duty to protect you. I will never neglect that obligation if it ensures your safety." He hisses when you gingerly drag the gauze along the same path upward to collect the stray rivulets of crimson that had dripped from the top of his wounds.

The incinerating flare of flames feels like it is scorching him from the inside out under each slash and tear in his flesh left by Yoongi’s claws, and each time you attempt wiping away the bloody tears his body weeps, more of his life essence is there to replace it.

The oil offers a mild cooling sensation, but it is similar to throwing a block of frozen ice into a roaring bonfire.

You note the lack of stoppage of blood flow from those wounds, concern turning your lips down even more. What you had been reluctant to think about before was becoming all the more possible now. Even if you did keep trying to refuse it.

Worry soon lugs you asunder with the guilt that swims densely about you, and your brows furrow as you instruct, “Alpha, I need you to lie down now. You aren’t having any changes in the blood loss and I fear that something bad may happen if you lose too much more.”

He nods, but the action has a dot spotting his vision and no matter how many times he blinks, it remains. Soon, there are more. And as he holds your watery gaze, more tears trek down the contours of your cheeks.

Something in his chest twinges that has nothing to do with the wounds Yoongi had left.

“As you say, my love.” He brings one knee carefully up toward his chest, his foot resting on the edge of the wood as he asks “What will you have me to do with this arm of mine? It’s in bad shape.”

You grab the now near-empty vial of eucalyptus oil that you’d set on the ground between your knees and return it to its place on the tray, your mind easily supplying you with the answer to his question after having spent so many nights hunched over tomes about medicinal treatments and herbal remedies as you rise, one of your hands wrapping around his nape and the other laying itself over the palm he has pressed between your breasts. The arm that palm is connected to is the one that Yoongi had mangled such that you can see bone between the split mess of muscles bordering it.

You can only imagine how much agony he must be in. If you could take it into yourself, you would.

Not that he would let you, though.

His promise to you had been made not only out of love for you, but out of pride as an alpha. An alpha that could not protect their mate was not deserving or worthy of her. It was an alpha’s responsibility by right to be the source of security and protection for his omega. An alpha who could not guarantee that for his omega had failed her.

Or so the tradition had held.

“You need to relax this arm and let me maneuver it so that it rests by your side. What I’m about to do will require a certain position,” you urge him down by the back of his neck, and while you know your measly strength could never compete against his, the fact that he allows you to move him so readily is an obvious display of trust. His back is laid atop the bench first, and you are delicate in the way you guide his head down until it, too, comes to a rest on the wood. “And it…it will hurt. I’m going to have to move your arm so we do not risk further injuring it. After that, I will need to clean it before applying pressure where the worst of the damage is.”

With conviction clearer than any concoction you could give him, he asserts, “Do what you have to do. You know what needs to be done. You have trained and studied well. It goes without saying that you have my trust. All of it.” He adds.

Gods, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect mate.

“Let me be the voice of reassurance this time, alpha,” you express while you curl your fingers around the hand of his that is placed along your sternum. Your other cups the underside of his forearm and, scrupulously, you usher it to his side before slowly and surely straightening it. He grimaces, and to distract him, you assure, “I’ll do everything I can to fix you. I promise, alpha.”

You monitor the bone in his arm that shifts in the movement, the middle of his humerus exposed and clearly fractured. From the dark line running perpendicular to the bone along the end closest to his elbow, you know instantly that he’s suffered from a transverse fracture to the bone. Honestly, you had expected worse with the way Yoongi had thrashed his head with Jungkook’s poor arm trapped between his teeth. Those teeth had managed to pierce halfway through the vessels and muscles lining his upper arm, the punctures still gushing blood.

It should have been impossible for him to have moved it. And yet…

“How did you move this arm when your bone has been broken, alpha?” You ask, swallowing the emotion that wants to be let out as you assess him.

His brows scrunch together and he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The pain was inconsequential next to the sadness that pooled in those pretty eyes.”

You fight the burning at the edges of your vision as you silently take your skirt between your fingers, the soft material pliable under your fingers. You don’t say anything. All you can do is let your hands work as you find the slit cut into it and tear along the line.

“What are you doing, my love?”

It is a question not asked out of doubt, but genuine curiosity.

The sound of ripping fabric ceases as you pull a sizable amount of the organza away from you and turn it inside out before placing it onto the tray beside his head and grabbing for the rectangular glass canister next to the eucalyptus oil.

I have to clean it. It’s infected already, and if I don’t get the bacteria out, your condition will worsen. Once I clean it, I will have to mobilize and brace it. A piece of my skirt should be the outer layer so as not to discomfort you.

You don’t trust your voice not to rupture, so you gently push the words to him through the bond as you grab the roll of cotton wool beside the gauze and unwind it before pressing it to your lips, closing your eyes, and silently begging for the mercy of the gods to take pity on him. To save him.

You knew what to do, but there was only so much that herbs and medicinal solutions could do.

You discard the thought like one of the blood-stained gauzes before you. You couldn’t afford to think like that. Especially not when you’d promised to put him at ease as he had always done for you.

When you bring the wool away from your mouth, you lift the lid from the container and the musky, earthy smell of the ginger poultice you’d prepared weeks ago joins the scent of muted iron in the air as you dip the wool into it several times to ensure its transfer onto the material.

The ginger will not hurt you, alpha. The pressure I will have to put on you will, however.

“I meant what I said, omega. Do what you need to do. I can take it.” He confides, opening his mouth so he can bite onto it.

I know, alpha. I know. More than anyone.

You pick up the considerably long, thick strip of wool from where you’d left it in a heap atop of the open poultice, bending over him before straightening it out so that it ran the length of his upper arm. Thankfully, it was just wide and long enough to completely cover his arm.

With one hand holding one end and your other hand on the other, you bring it down over the split skin from just under his shoulder to just above his elbow.

Just as you’d told him, there is no burning sensation as the gelatinous, thick solution is applied and spread across his sheared muscles, blood vessels, and bone. The blood spurting from the ruptures in his flesh is quick to permeate into the cotton, but you’d expected as much.

The ginger and eucalyptus have antioxidants, antibacterial, antiseptic, and disinfecting properties good for fighting infections. That’s why I chose to have Namjoon collect them from my personal store that I made.

Have I ever told you how attractive I find your intelligence?

Yes, alpha. You have.

You smile through the tears as you untwist more cotton wool from its spool, careful to lay it flat over the existing layer you’d just put over him. It, too, becomes saturated with his life’s essence within seconds.

He needed something else. Something to help boost the efficacy of the poultice. And you knew just the thing.

You scan the tray, evaluating the vials and containers left on it as you note the last addition you had yet to make. There, in the middle, was the small wooden box no longer than your hand and no taller than your pinky. You flip open the latch, the powder inside a brilliant yellow with the hint of orange tang under your nose.

His irises follow your every movement as you peel the layers of cotton wool up and off of him, disposing of them both in the same bowl as the other discolored fabrics.

When you unravel the dressings this time and steep them in the poultice, your other grabs a considerably sized clump of the crushed turmeric powder and sprinkles it all over his slashed open arm.

Three handfuls of that later, you are satisfied with the way the powder has been packed over the gash and surround it with several strips of the material lathered in the ginger solution.

The turmeric has curcumin in it, which can enhance granulation tissue formation and wound contraction. It also decreases inflammation and oxidation and can increase antioxidant capacity of the body, which means it helps fight compounds that could damage you.

The words are recited just as you had written them in one of your journals, and you busy yourself remembering that in lieu of your mind wandering to darker, scarier thoughts as his life’s essence clings to your hands while you rip apart more strips of cotton and run them all through the container of poultice.

Keep going, my love. Tell me more.

He feels the quiver of your hands as you lay each rectangular cloth down over his raw, chafed abrasions lining his chest, his uninjured arm wrapping around your thigh to steady you as his temples begin to ache.

The ginger root that this poultice was made from speeds along the healing process for cuts and abrasions among the other qualities it possesses. You won’t have to worry about these dressings falling off.

Underneath each dressing you affix to his front, his very cells feel as if they are being engulfed in an inferno. One that only blazes hotter every second that passes.

The gingerols and shogaols are compounds in it that will work as a natural adhesive to the cotton and to your skin without sticking or gluing it to you.

His second lack of response has you tilting your head in confusion.

You had said before that the poultice was not meant to feel like that, so whatever was happening, he was certain that you were not the cause. Perhaps it was just some strange side effect of blood loss? How odd that this sensation did not spread to his arm. He really should have studied more.

I’m fine, love. I think. My chest… it feels like I’m burning up from the inside. Have you any idea what that could be?

You’d read many books on herbology and medicine practices. None had ever described that as a symptom of blood loss.

With worry making your mouth go drier than cotton, you examine the way he blinks rapidly as if trying to get something out of his eyes.

W-what else ails you, alpha?

More dots have begun to occupy his sight, and no matter how many times he tries to close and open his eyes, they will not dissipate.

I cannot see properly. It is like there are dark circles blotting parts of my vision.

That was definitely a symptom of blood loss. But the burning sensations? That wasn’t characteristic of the lesions that had been cut into his skin. Nor was the ceaseless gush of scarlet from his chest injuries.

You recall the events that had brought you both here, identifying that it had only been Yoongi that had managed to harm your alpha. He’d been bitten on his arm and struck by claws on his chest. Two different points of contact with two different mediums.

You compare the two areas where he’d been mutilated, spotting the angered, puffed up flesh just that became more raised the closer it got to his now covered traumatisms on his torso. Like something was agitating it from the inside. His arm, however, mangled as it is, is not as badly puckered up around the gash despite the blood he’s losing. Which brings you to your next observation: His blood drips slowly and languidly from his chest wounds where it wells and spurts from his arm. With as deeply as Yoongi had pierced through him, he should have been losing more.

What is going on in that pretty head of yours, my love? Have you…have you discovered something?

There’s a slight pause between each of his unhurried words through your bond. As if it took effort to pull them forth.

You push through the distress that wants to drag you down, forcing yourself to focus and do everything that you could to aid him as you turn your attention to his arm now that you had taken care of his chest wounds.

You needed to stop the river of red that streamed down his arm. Without removing the cloth you’d set over it, you use your teeth to shear the white open-weaved fabric from the now nearly depleted roll it had once been spun around.

I will have to apply pressure as I said before to make sure the medicines set on the punctures in your arm. It…it’s going to hurt, alpha. If you want, you can bite onto my skirts. I don’t mind.

The offer earns you a nod, and so you rise to stand by his side and a wad of your skirt in your hands, hoping that he doesn’t mention the way that they shake as you do.

Forgive me, alpha.

It’s all the warning he gets before you place the dressings over the first layer covering his arm and push into the afflicted area, mindful of where his bone has been broken and avoiding that as you squeeze. Unlike the ruptures along his chest, this area does not nearly scald you.

He curses, his teeth grating into the fabric of your skirt as you apologize over and over again, guilt leaving tangible evidence of itself on your face while you cry for him.

Anyone else would have flinched, but not your alpha. No, he simply screws his eyes shut as he hisses through the material between his lips.

I’m sorry, alpha. I’m so, so sorry. But you have to stay like this for five minutes. I have to try to make the bleeding stop.

The dots that had been impairing his vision increase and the ache in his temples he’d felt before turns into a fierce throbbing as the world begins to dim around him while the claw marks along his chest ripple forth with black blood.

You perceive the way his eyes begin to flutter closed, the arm he’s wrapped around your thigh beginning to loosen. A tremble overcomes his body in the way that it suddenly is as if it’s gone down many degrees, and at that, a lump of dread drops into your stomach.

Not wanting him to slip into unconsciousness, you squeal. “N-no! Stay with me, a-alpha!”

Your voice cleaves through the barren desert that has set upon your throat.

I’m sorry, my love…I’m trying, but…it’s cold, yet my body feels like it’s on fire.

There are longer standstills between his words now. Like each one has to be dug up from the recesses of his mind.

Why has it suddenly become a….a blizzard in here? Why does…does my head feel…feel like someone is…is pounding… into it?

The dread in your belly is joined by another chunked mass of fear as his responsiveness slows with the unseen ice that encases and numbs him. When his good arm falls limply to his side from where it had been encircled around your thigh, you snivel, shaking your head vigorously back and forth as you whisper through a cracked voice, “No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be.”

As his eyelids tiredly droop, that’s when the panic grips your organs and wrings them out.

You had to stay strong. And you could not panic. Doing so would only stress him further.

But that thought is difficult to keep under the fleeting consciousness of your mate before you, who squeezes his eyes shut before opening them wide in effort to keep awake as you had instructed as he shivers.

You swallow around a brittle, sandy throat, wiping your hands on your bodice before your attention sifts around the room in search of something, anything, to help you. You start with the tray. The bowl of blood-soaked, soiled gauze and wrappings sits on its edge, the rolls of gauze and cotton wool in front of it. Next to them, the rectangular wooden box of turmeric powder remains beside the canister of ginger extract. Around them, the vial of eucalyptus lays on its side where the other glass containers of assorted colors and contents are placed. Three had been unused.

The first was a smaller brown bottle of oil secreted from crushed neem kernels you’d plucked from the seeds yourself. The second was a moderately sized canister of milk-colored paste you’d boiled and ground from coconuts. The last was a large flask of honey.

All would work to stop the bleeding. Five minutes had felt an eternity with his continually shallow breaths in your ear, his heart rate weakening under the lack of blood to push through his body. You hadn’t understood why your vocal cords felt so sore, but when you release him and the mewling coming from your mouth dies out, that answers the question.

You waste no time emptying the bottle of neem oil over each of his wounds as you sniffle, “Keep looking at me, alpha. Don’t go to sleep. I-I need you awake for me.”

Despite the gnawing pain in his temples and the ever increasing temperature that boils the parts of him under the skin of his thorax, he battles the darkness that wants to swallow him as he tries to stay in the light of your eyes that shine glassily down on him while you pour the honey, with unsteady hands, along each striation channeling his chest and arm before adding another lining of gauze over his crimson turned bandages.

“One more, alpha. One more, and then I can make a splint for your arm.” You don’t care anymore about the snot that runs down your nose with the tears trailing it as his skin begins to lose its color.

He nictates through bleary, dimmed orbs, and the sight twists your heartstrings.

You keep your hands busy, because you know the moment you stop is the moment he could slip through your fingers.

You cover both hands in the creamy mixture and with the first pass of your fingers against his sternum, you wrench your hand back in the overwhelming heat that scorches you like a blazing sun.

“You’re burning up, alpha.” The words are choked out. “It’s gotten worse.”

He says nothing. Doing so would cause it to sear him even more.

His pained expression is answer enough. And the discomfort of the sensation it had brought was nothing compared to what you knew he faced. For him, you would cross any sea of fire. For him, you would do this. No matter the cost.

So, you gently trail your fingers around the reddened, plowed planes of his chest to surround all sides of the new contours there in the substance.

You shake the canister over his arm so that thick dollops land over the flesh there so you can spread them around, too.

Once you’re certain no part of him is bereft of your attention, you straighten and scour the room for anything you could use as a splint. There alone atop the cabinet by the door, was a clipboard with paper. No doubt a visitor’s log.

It was the perfect length for his arm.

Before you leave his side, you check his vitals for any unseen changes. Still he attempts to combat the throes of sleep that wish to pull him asunder, but the most serious of his wounds have now been disinfected and dressed.

“Alpha,” you prod, “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to get something to stabilize your arm.”

You wait for him to give a slow incline of his head, the action causing him to wince as explosive pain fires through his temples.

You turn, but the watchful glance you keep on him remains as you make your way across the room. You do not miss the way his fingers along his good arm twitch as if searching for you.

Your fingers close around the edge of the board of wood, your own chest splintering at the sight.

You return to him within seconds, but gods, it had felt like hours.

This time, you walk over to the side of him where his bad arm now rests, one of your hands wrapping around the underside of his arm to coax it only an inch upward. He lets you so you can slip the board underneath it as you observe him for any fluctuations in symptoms. His pupils are stagnant and idle, but they do not stray from you even as his breathing begins to slow and his heart beats become fainter and fainter.

Worry sets in your veins as you take the piece of your skirts that you’d torn earlier and tie it around the board of wood and the bandages you’d put there.

When you press your index and middle finger to the pulsating vein along his neck, it beats feebly.

He needed to replenish the blood he’d lost before it was too late. And you knew, right then, exactly what you needed to do to fix that.

However, no matter how much you flipped through the pages of the books you’d read in your mind, the answer to his inquiries and asymptomatic conditions he’d alerted you to did not match what you knew of blood loss. Whatever he had described was clearly something else. Something that Yoongi must have done since he’d been the only one to successfully injure your mate.

Yoongi, who had bitten him on the arm and his claws on Jungkook’s torso where, surprisingly, Jungkook had explained the worst of his pain to be. Where you yourself had felt it to be in the irate ire of the wounds there so hot to the touch.

It is with that identification that you scrap the books you’d read about common ailments in lieu of one you’d been hunched over for many weeks trying to memorize in its abundance of knowledge. One that had detailed poisons and toxins. There was one that matched what you had seen and heard from him. One that, if introduced into the body, was capable of corrosive necrosis in cells and had sensations and symptoms that matched what he’d described. One that was odorless, colorless, and impossible to cure.

It must have been dappled on Yoongi’s claws. He must have known about the deadly poison carried by a large fungus that even necromancers hesitated to harvest. It was capable of causing the entire bodily organs and tissues to break down and feel as if they were burning in their degradation when the toxins turned the cells against each other.

Jungkook’s eyes close, and horror clods your ribs and bowels of your body.

You had to keep him awake. For fear of losing his life, you had to keep him from sinking into the darkness.

Stay with me, my mate. My alpha. My love. Please, don’t leave me.

The words course like a ravine through the bond, the waters of your affections evident in the tracks they leave down your cheeks as you lift your leg up and over so you can sit astride him, desperation making you move before your mind can. The raindrops of your sadness fall over him like a fall downpour, and soon, his entire chest is wet with the salve of your handmade solutions and sadness.

The longer his eyes stay shut, the closer he dangles to that dangerous idea you’d kept rejecting and denying. That idea became more real by the moment.

You promised me, alpha. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me! I can’t do this without you!

Distress takes control as the rush of thoughts spill from you and you bring your hand to your teeth that you had subconsciously sharpened in the iron that now falls across your tongue.

I can’t do this without you, alpha. Life without you was life without meaning. Life without you was like having silver thrust on me every day from the moment I woke to the moment I fell asleep: gray, senseless and deadening.

Something warm trickles from the sides of your lips when all of your now edged, serrated upper teeth easily prick and slice through your palm and you suck a mouthful between your lips.

The taughtened muscles around his eyes and mouth slacken, the movement of his irises behind his lids moving this way and that. As if he was still trying to search for you in the darkness. The gentle thud of his heart is all that you hear in your ears anymore. No other sounds matter.

You speak to him through it, hoping with everything in you that doing so will give him something to hold onto.

I love you, alpha. I love you more than anything in this world. So please, come back to me. Come back to me so I can express it to you, show it to you, and make more wonderful, beautiful, colorful memories with you.

You take his chin between the fingers of your other hand, lifting it before using your thumb to part his lips.

With the hand you’d just bitten, you hold it over his mouth only to turn your palm to the side before curling your digits in, your nails sinking into the fragile flesh to cut into it so that more streaks of crimson dribble down, the dark drops of your blood falling between his lips.

Adam's apple bobs as he tries to swallow it, but it’s not enough.

As you watch your blood spread across his tongue, you can’t help but notice how his skin has gone whiter than sleet, his usual golden glow drained with his life’s essence as he continues to shudder beneath you.

The faint presence of him dwindles in the bond like candlelight that the cold darkness schemes to snuff out, but still he is kindled in yours as you lean forward, your mouth seeking him.

Take my blood, alpha. Drink and replenish what you have lost. It is the only way.

The last sound of you is tucked in his mind just as your mouth slots itself over his, the mouthful of your blood that you had drawn forth from your hand soon emptied into his as he swallows it weakly. You mindfully set your bleeding hand between the middle of his sternum, the thick redness sobbing for him, too, as it spreads down his torso and seeps into the coverings draped across his chest.

With the first swill of you down his throat, the throbbing in his temples begins to dull and the air around him starts to warm.

It’s as if your blood had passed life into him, for his tongue eventually sweeps at the excesses of your mouth for the remnants that percolate from the small scrapes your teeth had left in your cheeks. You let him lick it, and with each pass of his tongue over each one, the muscle beating under your hand on his chest beats steadier. Stronger. Louder.

He required more. Way more after all that he had lost. And you? You intended to give it to him.

When he’s lapped all of your quintessence up, you pull away only to bring the hand you’d bitten to his lips in offering.

With his eyes still closed, he can’t see it, but he can smell it.

The tang of iron is powerful enough to summon his mouth to it, his baser being taking over as he closes his mouth around your open palm.

His teeth pierce through you easily and when your blood bursts forth from the punctures and he sups it without hesitation.

The violent, searing pain stemming from the claw marks along his torso where your blood had permeated through his bandages starts to lessen amid the ache that is dispelled in his skull. The quavering of his body soon ceases in the absence of the chill he’d felt before.

He wraps his lips tighter around you, and when he extracts your essence this time, it is with more urgency.

You run your other hand through his dark, ebony hair, the color slowly returning to his cheeks as he drinks from you.

“Take as much as you need, my love. You will require quite a few mouthfuls to, ah-“

You pause when he detaches from your hand, licking at the stray droplets of your blood before gripping your forearm to bring your wrist to his nose so he can inhale and run his lips longingly along it. His head falls back as he does, the pink muscle slipping between his lips to taste the remnants of you there, too.

“Want to…bite you…right here. Can I?” He asks hoarsely yet huskily.

You’re already answering before he’s even finished. “I’m all yours, alpha.”

The implications of this are not lost on you. By puncturing your scent glands where they produce the oils and scent of you the most–seconded only by your neck��his bite will forever leave his trace where he’d enter you. No other wolf would be able to take in your succulent smell without his lingering odor behind it.

From where you are seated on his lap, you swear you see his eyes roll back behind his lids.

When his canines elongate such that they protrude from his upper lip and he penetrates your flesh along the middle of your wrist, your blood eagerly teems into his mouth. Just like the first time he’d bitten you, there is no pain in the sharpness of those teeth. What was urgency before becomes hunger now as he feeds on you, his cheeks hollowing as he quaffs the life-giving nectar you have produced just for him.

You shudder as he draws deep, gulping mouthful after mouthful and all the worry you’d had before is sapped away as he does.

Your flavor is so fucking saccharine on his tongue, and each time your essence washes down his throat, his body surges with vitality and energy.

He can’t get enough of it. It’s too good. You’re too good.

More he takes and more he swallows like a crazed male, and you allow it as your own lids lower while you ogle him as the released endorphins stored in the glands along your wrist flood you in pleasure as you mindlessly–instinctively– rut your hips into his.

“Do I taste good, alpha?” You moan softly, your body growing limp as the fingers you’d twisted and twined around his locks loosen.

You taste sweeter than sweet.

His good arm shoots out so his fingers can splay around your hip to steady you as he indulges in the pulses and pangs of strength that return to him with each consuming swig of your lifeblood, your hips helped back and forth by the hand he has on one of them as your moans turn to whimpers.

You taste something like pineapple, grapes, strawberries, and everything good in this world.

When his eyes open, he looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess. Like you’re some kind of deity, and he is some servant beneath you.

He revels in the revelation that graces him as he takes in the sight of you atop him.

Your crimson-stained lips have slightly fallen ajar to reveal still jagged, pointed canines, remnants of red still flecking the sides of your mouth. Your silver irises have been glazed by desire, the daubing of crimson along your lids creating a deprived picture.

The dried, dark paint of his own blood that he’d smeared all over you was still there, but the new addition of his scarlet handprint between your breasts and streaks the same color all along your skirt and bodice are all the more depicting of a debased creature.

You straddle him, your gown ripped unevenly along one of your legs to reveal one bare calf and thigh.

How he had fucking ruined you.

His once pure, innocent goddess that must have been a fallen, divine being sent to him to save him.

“J-Jungkook,” you whine when your vision begins to darken at the edges as his teeth bury themselves deeper into your flesh so he can cravingly command more of you down, “I…I-“

The strong hand on waist pulls you down over his hardening member, your breath hitching when you remember he’s entirely naked beneath you.

“Even goddesses have their limit. I can see it,” he groans around your wrist as he savors the way you sag forward, your thighs loosening from where you’d been squeezing him between them. “I can feel it.”

He takes one more mouthful of your rich, piquant ichor, your front slumping forward until your head rests in the crook of his neck.

With your jugular vein so close to his ears, the rhythm set by the tune of your heart beats far too slow. The sound snaps him out of his craze instantly as the hand on your waist clutches you tighter as if you might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

“Goddess? Do you mean…me?” You drawl out the words through the tingling sensation in your head.

Despite the loss of your blood, affection courses through you when he attentively dislodges his teeth from you and makes sure to catch the bright red drops that run forth from the two new dark blots along the underside of your smaller wrist. As he does, he affirms, “You saved me.”

The hand at your waist gives you another comforting squeeze before it journeys up along your side, your shoulder, and then down your arm until his digits close around your wrist so he can rub soothing circles into it. “I was so lost in the darkness, omega, but your voice…I followed it back to you.”

“Me?” It’s all you can say. The rush of endorphins fades with the extraction of his teeth, and your hips slow to still as his words sober you.

One side of his lips turn up at that. “Yes, my love. You.” He coaxes your wrist upwards so he can kiss you where his teeth and yours had been. “You, the light of my life. The reason for my being, The purpose of my existence.” His head falls to the side as he shepherds your hand toward the palpitating muscle along his chest. “I once thought of you as my queen, but I see now that you’re so much more than that.” He places your hand right above his heart, and you’re so mesmerized by those beaming irises of gold that you don’t even realize what he’s done when those warm, calloused fingers brush along the side of your cheek until they rest in your hair and his palm holds the edge of your jaw to coax it upward as he brings his mouth near to yours. “Your voice is a song that even the muses envy. Your body is the drink of the gods that even they would fight wars for. Your mind and soul are so perfect and good that even demons would wish they could bottle them.”

His eyes twinkle with sincerity as he goes on, both fondness and affection for him taking turns to cleanse you of the desire you’d felt before so that something much deeper can fill your entire being.

“Shhh, alpha… you need to rest now. This can all wait until later.” Your words are throaty and full, for your heart has somehow found its way there, too. “You lost a lot of blood and-“

He seals your mouth with his, and like wax under a newborn wick, you melt into it. He’s warm and gentle in the warmness that he emanates that no candle ever could. The quiet intimacy of it has your lids falling to a close, the air around you making way for you both as you share each other’s breath.

There was nothing quite like this. Nothing like the way that your fingers sought any part of him that they could as they both encircled his uninjured wrist, unwilling to let him go. Nothing like the way your body was perfectly molded against his, the kiss akin to a butterfly’s wing in its softness that could take your breath away. It was the water that quenched after a drought. It was the furs that gave such comfort on a winter’s night. It was the rain and a flame all at once.

And gods, he couldn’t bear even a second’s separation from her. Truly, he’d never been so blessed with the gift of life until now. Until you. Hell would surely have frozen over before he would relinquish this: your mesmerizing, mellow eyes; your pliant, pretty lips; your stuttered, stammered breaths whenever he looked at you; your smaller, tinier hands that loosed and tightened around his wrist as he held you.

But his damned lungs just had to get some air, and so he had been forced into breaking the kiss.

When his mouth parts from yours, he breathes heavily. “I do not need rest when I have you. Imaginings and visions leave little to be desired when their source is on top of me like this. And,” the other side of his lips lift up and you’re sure that thudding in your ears gets louder as he does, “It would be rather impolite not to pay my respects to you, my divine little deity. You were–are–magnificent.”

You try to hide your face in his neck, your cheeks heating up at his praise. He won’t have any of that, and so he urges it back up.

Looking into those eyes is like looking into two orbs spun by the sun. That warmth that emanates over your skin like warm rays makes everything else lackluster, and even his voice carries that vivid color of emotion as he voices, “Do not hide from the truth, my love.”

You make a sound of questioning, not understanding what he’s just said. It’s as if there’s a fuzzy blanket around your body and mind, your disoriented thoughts too sluggish to formulate for you to say much more.

He chuckles lightly, his chest moving up and down gentle enough to not jostle you.

“You do not know it, but I shall help you see.” He offers, nosing at your jawline as he does. “Allow me to show you what you did to me, my love. I think you’ll find the evidence of your miracles when you do.”

He releases you, a quiet whine leaving your lips at the absence of his touch. Soft lips are there to soothe you when his mouth brushes where his hand had been at the edge of your jaw. There he presses his lips as he tells you, “Look down, my love.”

You’d been expecting to see more blood spilling from the open wounds arcing down both sides of his chest, his bandages completely soaked through with his life’s essence.

You did not expect to see one of the lines of gauze you’d laid down over the lacerations lifted in the air by your alpha to reveal a deep gash completely closed, the angry red slash now only a faint line of pink.

As if it were nothing but an old war scar.

At first, you think you might be seeing things.

You blink owlishly at him, and he grins only to pull back another strip of fabric that you’d used to pack another wound.

It, too, is only a faded, paled remnant of what it had been minutes ago.

Your fingers lethargically draw down his torso where the flesh that had been raised and furious is now smooth and normal.

There is no pain that festers there with the poison that had been set upon him by Yoongi’s claw. Its dissipation had had nothing to do with your medicines. He knows that now. It had been you.

Your lids have begun to grow heavy as sleep begins to beckon, and all you can do through the drowsiness that has set as you rest one of your temples against his shoulder so you can still stare at him as you manage the only word you can summon in your dumbfounded state. “How?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about our ancestors. It was said that the first rulers of our kind, who were chosen by the gods, were given abilities no others possessed.” Your mate tosses the soiled dressings into the bowl before he reaches for his splinted arm wrapped in bandages. “Abilities that made the rest of our kind lower their heads in awe.” He unties the knot you’d made out of the ripped fragment of your gown you’d affixed the wooden board to, and while he does, he tells you, “She told me that the king and queen of our kind were fated by their souls. That the first omega’s songs of mourning had so moved the gods when he’d been killed trying to protect her that they gave her the power to heal him through her kiss.”

Slumber drags you away from him, his voice fading the more it tugs and tugs you as he goes on. “So powerful was she that the other wolves revered her as a goddess in her capacity to mend and restore not only the physical body, but the soul and mind as well. And her king? He was vested by the gods who took pity on him with strength, speed, size, and stamina that no other could match.”

Distantly, you think you see a glimpse of the linens you’d put around his arm being peeled back to uncover what you had thought had been a mangled mess of bone and flesh. But no longer. Now, just like his chest, there are only small grazes and punctures that have since been pulled together with slightly darker cicatrix marring him.

When your lids fall closed and sleep takes you from him, he uses that arm to secure you close as he attentively watches over you. In your ear, he confides, “Rest up now, beautiful deity. You shall need it for what is to come, my love.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts writing #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #alpha!jungkook #alpha!jungkook x reader #dom!jungkook #sub!reader

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wanderingsoul6261 · 5 months ago

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Match has been Made

credit for gif goes to k-wame

james beaufort x reader

synopsis: Lydia plays matchmaker for James and her friend

Note: I have Jury Duty next week, so I want to try and get everything done before then, but if not, I will try to have most finished so that I can post them periodically through next week so that I can still provide y'all with content. I also want to start writing for other fandoms, such as Call of Duty, NCIS, Criminal Minds, Uncharted, etc) so if you are interested in more works, keep an eye out for those.

Not a big fan of this one honestly. Might delete it later and do a better version of it. Just didn't have any other ideas for it, so if anyone has a better way for this to have gone, let me know, and I will definitely consider redoing it after some of the others are completed.

Lydia wasn't as stupid as James and Y/N. Maybe stupid wasn't the right word, as oblivious seemed fitting, not that the two were stupid. Although, they were definitely oblivious. Lydia had wanted to strangle them both, considering how blind they were. James, staring all the time at Y/N, not thinking anyone would notice. Lydia definitely noticed. And then Y/N, not even noticing James looking at her and how long he would do so. Lydia also noticed that too.

Many who also noticed had just thought that maybe Y/N wasn’t interested in him, but Lydia had taken to disagreeing. Y/N was a good friend of Lydia, and therefore, she was also a good friend of James. Y/N and James had initially butted heads quite often at the start of the friendship between the two girls, but over time, it had gradually stopped, and had actually turned into a playful teasing.

Now, Lydia could tell James was smitten with Y/N just as much as she was smitten with him, and this had sparked Lydia’s plan into getting the two by themselves and admitting their feelings.

Initially, it also meant getting their driver, Percy involved. He would have a large part to play in the plan, helping her get one or both of them to the Manor, hopefully when their parents were away on their upcoming business trip, and then leaving with Lydia. Percy and Lydia would then find something to pass a few hours by. Whether she went over to a friend’s house, or she treated Percy to a friendly night out for all his work done for the family.

Percy was inclined to help, considering he too had noticed what was, or the lack of what was happening between James and Y/N. It didn’t matter how he spent the time afterwards. Him leaving the manor would then mean that neither James or Y/N had a way to leave.

It was a sound plan, and Lydia knew that the probability of it working was high.

—

“Hey! Y/N!” Y/N turned around at the sound of her name being called. Behind her, Lydia hurried over to her. She stopped, waiting for her friend to catch up so that they could walk side by side. “What are you doing tonight?” Lydia asked. Y/N shrugged.

“Nothing really. Mom and dad are home but I don’t have anything planned with them. I was probably just going to watch some movies and call it an early night.”

“Would you want to come over for a bit? Do some swimming. Maybe stay the night? Our parents are out of town for a few nights for a business trip.” Lydia had explained.

“Who all is going to be there?” She had asked.

“Just me and James, plus you. Figured the three of us could hang out without the suffocation of a party.” Lydia had explained.

Y/N thought about it. Admittedly, getting out of the house for a little bit had seemed like a better idea. Lydia could tell she was contemplating it. The way Y/N tilted her head and bit the inside of her cheek, some of the very few mannerisms she possessed that gave away when she was truly thinking about something told her so. Mannerisms that James had appeared to have fallen in love with.

After several moments, and pausing in the hallway of Maxton, Y/N had given Lydia her answer.

“Alright. I’ll come over.”

“Cool! I’ll have Percy pick you up at about 5!” Y/N agreed, telling her that that worked for her, and left her friend behind so that she could move on to her next class, which she also shared with James.

Lydia watched as Y/N met up with James outside of their next class, a smirk on her face, and then left quickly, before either of them noticed that she was watching.

“Hey.” James smiled at Y/N as they walked into the classroom. “So did Lydia talk to you yet?” He asked, as they set their stuff down on the shared desk and took their respective seats. “Something about just us three. Swimming. Maybe some movies. Something like that.”

“Yea, actually. Just before I came here. I told her that I should be free to come over. She said she would send Percy later to come get me.”

“What about your driver?”

“Sick. I gave them a few days off.” Y/N flipped through her notes, trying to find where she left off. James watched as she did so, his eyes on her fingers as they flipped through the pages, before he turned his attention to her face. She was concentrated, focused on trying to find where she left off in her note taking.

“What time did she tell you?”

“Percy will be at my place at five.” He nodded slightly as she finally looked up at him. “She said I could also potentially stay the night. Mentioned something about how your parents are out of town for a business trip?”

“Yea. Meetings with potential business partners for their next clothing line.” He explained. “They will be gone most of the week.” She nodded in understanding. James flashed her a smile, one that she had returned as their professor walked in, introducing their topic for the day.

—

Percy was a few minutes early, rolling the car in the driveway of her family manor at about quarter to five. Stepping out of the car, he greeted her politely, flashing her a small smile as she advanced over to the car.

“Good evening, Percy.” She flashed a smile back at him, thanking him as he opened the back door for her. He had taken her overnight bag, putting it in the trunk of the car.

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. I hope you are well.”

“I am. Thank you. I hope Lydia and James are treating you well.” She teased. He flashed her a smile of amusement as another voice rang out, just as she climbed into the vehicle.

“We are treating him just fine.” Y/N was met face to face by James, who flashed her an amused smile as she took her seat next to him. The door closed and the two flashed each other a smile.

“Miss me?” she asked. Percy climbed into the driver side seat, putting the car into drive and taking the three of them back to the Beaufort manor. James smiled brightly at her.

“Always.”

Percy watched them from the rearview mirror, taking in the interactions to the two of them. Lydia had been right, about the way the two of them look at each other. The way James looked at her when she was talking, like he wanted to take in everything she was saying and have it memorized. The way Y/N watched as he drew in his sketchbook or the way he watched her as she watched the numerous trees and other flora as they drove. Lydia was right when she told Percy all those days ago about how oblivious they were. The emotions in their faces surely show how they feel about the other, but both are too oblivious to say or do anything. He smirked, turning his eyes back on the road.

Arriving at the manor, Percy had stayed with the car, while James and Y/N had gotten out. James took her bag inside, handing it to another person to take to Lydia's room, where she would likely be sleeping.

Lydia was already outside at the pool when the two finally joined her. She looked up and back at them, a smile on her face. Standing up from where she was dipping her toes into the pool, she walked over to them. She bypassed James, who only playfully rolled his eyes as she hugged Y/N.

“Glad you can make it. You guys enjoy the water and snacks. I’m going to go and get changed. Be back in a jiffy.” And with that, Lydia was gone. James, who was already wearing some swim trunks with a t-shirt when they picked up Y/N, had taken off his shirt, leaving Y/N the only one who had yet to show her swimsuit.

Her eyes were on James body for several seconds and had stayed focused on him for several more seconds after he had jumped into the pool.

Y/N had been smart, having put her swimsuit on underneath her clothes before Percy and James arrived at her home. She had slipped off her shirt, exposing her skin and the bikini top that she wore. James had caught sight, his eyes on her before he dipped underneath the water before she could catch him staring. When he had come back up, she had already pulled her shorts off, fully revealing herself in her two-piece bikini.

While James slowly swam around the perimeter of the pool, Y/N relaxed on a floaty, drifting around the pool. The two relaxed like that for a little bit until one of them realized that one of them was still missing.

“James.” He had looked over at Y/N, who now sat on the end of the pool, a water bottle in her hand.

“Hmm?”

“Did Lydia come out at all?” She asked. “I would have figured that she would be out here by now.” James stopped swimming, moving to stand in the shallow end of the pool. He looked past her, towards the open doors that led into the house.

“No I haven’t.” He finally answered. His eyes drifted back towards Y/N, where some droplets of water rolled down her stomach. Her hair was wet, meaning that she had slipped into the water at some point and he didn’t notice. She tilted her head in thought, turning her body around as well to look inside the house.

James watched as she stood up and walked over to the chairs. She didn’t find any sign that Lydia might have even been there in the first place, and no phone was found.

“Her phone isn’t here. Maybe she has it. I can give her a call.” Y/N walked back over to her own phone, picked it up, and easily dialed Lydia’s number. James watched as she pressed her phone to her ear, but after several seconds, put her phone back down. “No answer.”

“She’s probably okay. Probably just got caught up doing something else. Maybe she’s taking a nap so she can conserve energy for movies later.” James reassured her, and Y/N agreed. James wasn’t sure where his sister went, and it definitely wasn’t a part of their plans.

Unless it was a part of her plans.

Y/N shrugged and had gone back to sit on the side of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. James went back to floating around the pool. His eyes moved over to Y/N several times. They were alone and she was right there. He could say what he wanted and make his move. If he was rejected, no one would know.

Her eyes were on the book she was reading, invested in the pages and the words that told the story within them. He hovered in the water for several moments before he finally decided to slowly make his way across the pool.

His eyes had remained on her, watching her movements as he neared her. The way her fingers flipped to the next page. How her expression changed based on the scene she was reading. He was happy to listen to her when she went on and on about a book that was either currently reading or had just finished, having loved the way that she got so much joy and excitement from something so simple.

When he finally reached her, his hand reached out for the book, gently setting it aside without getting it wet. Y/N was confused, a noise getting caught in the back of her throat as James put his palm on the edge of the pool, hoisting himself partially out of the water and slightly closer to her. He made eye contact with her, before he looked down at her lips. She caught the movement, relaxing as she waited. She knew what he wanted at that moment, and when he didn’t make the move first, she did.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more closer, and pressed her lips against his. He quickly melted into it, one arm wrapping around her waist. James tugged her into the pool once more, before pinning her against the side of it. Her arms remained around his neck, while his arms looped behind her, settling the edge of the pool.

It was a slow and gentle kiss, allowing the two to enjoy and savor it. Her hands tangled themselves into his hair, and one of his hands moved to her back, his fingers splayed across her skin. James was running out of breath, as was Y/N, but the two hesitated to separate, as both of them seemed to have wanted their first kiss together to go on longer than what was physically possible.

And when they finally pulled away from each other, they rested their foreheads against each others, breathing heavily, a small smile on their lips.

“Do you think Lydia left?” Y/N asked.

“I think this was part of her plan.” James agreed. “Get us alone together. Means Percy was probably also in on it.” Y/N laughed a little.

“You sister, playing matchmaker, and Percy helping. Who knew.”

“My guess is that they knew something we didn’t.” He had smiled, kissing her again, this time with a bit more energy. James had stared at her lips, before moving away and planting kisses along her jaw, pressed one final one to her forehead, and then moved back down to her lips. He was kissing her like a man starved of it all.

“How about we watch those movies?” He finally asked, after finding the heart to stop kissing Y/N and finally allowing her to breathe. She gave him a smile and nodded.

That was how Lydia had found the two of them. They were laying on the couch in the shared living area that Lydia and James shared, the tv going on in the background. James was on his back, his head against the arm of the couch, and Y/N was asleep on his chest. Her arms wrapped around James, and a blanket was wrapped around her.

Lydia had smirked, snapped a photo to show Percy that the plan had worked, and wandered off to get ready for bed, leaving the two by themselves.

----

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@sillyfreakfanparty

#james beaufort #maxton hall #james beaufort x reader #maxton hall: the world between us

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shadowgast-recs-weekly · 18 days ago

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Older Favorites 8: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week we have the eighth edition of older favourite fics, check under the cut for 19 fics that were uploaded or last updated more than two years ago! Don't forget to comment and kudos if you enjoy them

when will these two wizards kiss already by allmadeofstardust (13590, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A series of canon divergent episodes, exploring potential first kisses the wizards might've had in the final episodes of C2.

Reccer says: Back when C2 was finishing up, I always looked forward to this series updating XD it was a really fun way to feed the beast that spent every one of those last episodes waiting for a Shadowgast kiss to happen. And the ending of the series is really lovely too.

Like 80/20 on the Kinsey Scale by jakia (2772, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Caleb sleeps with Essek and panics about his sexuality. A story about friendship and identity.

Reccer says: I liked it!

By the Light by MoonwalkingCrab (31993, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death

After not hearing from the Nein for months and assuming he had been forgotten, Essek receives a plea from the Nein to help save Caleb. Canon-Compliant until e88!

Reccer says: I Love love LOVE this fic. I came into the fandom right at the end of C2 and have read many really good pre-97 fics - This one is probably my absolute favorite. AMAZING Essek characterization, really nailed the loneliness at his core, I love the take and the headcanons! Also also, while this is absolutely a Shadowgast fic, this is also very much an Essek & The Nein fic. Every interaction is amazing, love the level of detail, adore the pacing, just a really good and soft and well rounded fic!!

in the times in between by jakia (8098, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: mention of miscarriage

While refining a spell, Caleb spends a few days accidentally visiting his parents over the course of a decade and a half. Essek helps the final time.

Reccer says: Kind and sweet, plus excellent mom behavior from Una at the end.

infinity in the palm of your hand by mousecookie (5752, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence

Alternate ending to e116 - The Mighty Nein find a rusted iron door in Aeor, as well as the fallen body of one Essek Thelyss.

Reccer says: Really well/solidly written, with an *amazing* twist that I did NOT see coming - Very good emotions, very good characterizations, just an all-round lovely read written during the fandom's 'When will Essek return from the war?' phase X3 Also also I just ADORE the title!

only code it knows is rote survival by Chrome (12637, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In a world where Trent makes it back to Eiselcross before the Nein do, Essek spends a night under the effects of the Feeblemind spell. Caleb undertakes a duty of care, and the Nein learn how Essek feels about them beneath everything.

Reccer says: Wonderful characters and lovely writing!

like coloured indigo inscribed with my name by KmacKatie (30648, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

An exploration of tradition, culture, what is worth sacrificing in finding yourself and family.

Reccer says: I think about this fic a lot. The highs, the lows, the sweetness, the angst. It's existed in the back of my mind for so long that it's kind of hard to describe the particulars of why I love it; I just do. I love the snapshots into Essek and the Nein's lives; the moment in Chapter 4 when the wizards kiss stands out to me as an example of that. The heartache of Chapters 6 and 7 is so well done; the strings of unanswered texts (and Essek's deleted replies) at the end of 6 and "I can’t eat soup without thinking of you." in particular (ESPCIALLY the latter) have stuck with me for years. Essek showing up at Caleb's birthday party after everything... there are tears in my eyes as I am typing this. I just love all of it so much, but the angst in particular really left a mark. And I love the ending so much too. All of it is just iconic and wonderful. To end on a lighter note, shout-out to the remark about Deirta and kumquats, which surfaced in my psyche recently after being dormant in there for so long XD

a certain future by wristpockets (26997, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek keeps trying to outwit The Mighty Nein, and gets stuck in a time loop trying to do so. He's trying to befriend them now, trying to earn their trust, but that's only because it's his best option... right?

Reccer says: While the Shadowgast is a relatively minor aspect of the story, it's a great character study.

Echoes by MithrilWren (1759, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

“Essek finds himself... unsettled by Caleb's new telepathic powers.“

Reccer says: Shadowgast, but with some Somnovem interference! This fic is short, but it packs a punch! I still get a shiver down my spine thinking about the ending.

Somewhere Just for Us by bluebirdsongs (12835, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb takes Essek on a date to the version of the dance hall that lives on the Tower's 8th floor.

Reccer says: This is one of my all-time favorite Shadowgast fics, hands down. It is incredibly tender and sweet, with so many layers of emotion. The concept is brilliant and so well executed. I love Caleb introducing Essek to Zemnian cuisine and this fic is 100% the reason for it. And the flirting and the banter and the DANCING. There's a moment when they're dancing that made me yell in delight when I first read it back in 2021 and I still adore it. And the ending!!! Augh, it's all just so heartfelt. It deserves all the love in the world. (Also, it never fails to make me crave a preztel)

russet inconveniences by marleybone (7328, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek needs a roommate and finds one in Caleb Widogast.

Reccer says: You know a fic is good when you think you've submitting reccs and then you remember the title and immediately have to go pull it up to recc too XD this one is just so fun!!! Caleb is a menace of a roommate and I love that that never stops, even as Essek realizes he's got feelings. The tag "minor inconveniences to lovers" is fantastic XD

Unspoken Love by marsmystic (4187, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

“ Caleb and Essek return to Aeor together. A relationship develops. Or was it already there?”

Reccer says: This fic sparks joy! Wizards being besties!! Essek and Caleb’s relationship is so sweet in this. It really highlights how the romantic aspects of it stem from their friendship, which is one of my favorite flavors of shadowgast.

The Mind and The Malady by SaltCore (38945, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

There is a remedy for his illness, of course. There is always a way to unwind magic, but there is always a price. The cost of Essek’s life, now that he’s contracted Hanahaki’s disease, can be paid two ways—one is higher than Essek can bear and the other, well. The other can only be paid by someone else.

Reccer says: Beautifully written and wonderful worldbuilding! Always a fav to reread!

some things time can't fix by Chrome (25930, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is arrested for treason. The Dynasty severs the daemons of prisoners before executing them so they can’t be reborn.

Reccer says: Daemon au! This fic made me feel so many emotions

Like a Steel Trap by kaeda (12519, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is very much into Caleb's keen mind.

Reccer says: Wizards loving wizards for wizardly reasons!

a mirror to the sky by renquise (7432, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek shows up on Caleb's doorstep in the bitter cold of winter and shows him something private

Reccer says: Self bondage fic my beloved! The tension between the two is so good!

To Mourn a Mischief by toneofjoy (81716, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

It's an Ever After-inspired AU with magic, where Caleb is trapped with Ikithon but ends up wooing Essek. Follows the plot of Ever After but has some good twists and turns!

Reccer says: The writing gives that fairy-tale feel, and though it follows the plot of Ever After, it's different enough to be exciting. Also love the surprise guests near the end, and the Jester/Essek and Caleb/Beau friendships are so good!

The following two fics each received two recs:t

(your face in my hands is) everything good i need by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (25884, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The last person Caleb Widogast, Professor of Modern History, expects to find as he walks in a random pub in a foreign city at the end of a long conference is Dr. Essek Thelyss, eminent Latinist and his sort-of intellectual crush.

Reccer 1 says: This is the first fic in my bookmarks and I've long since lost track of how many times I've reread it. So many moments have ingrained themselves in my memory; Caleb's hands on Essek's elbows when they first kiss. Their later spicy makeout getting interrupted by Essek getting a call. Caleb trying to pin Essek to his door the moment they get to his apartment for kisses and Essek having to get him to slowdown for a minute. Essek thinking Caleb looks like a god as they lay in bed together. "I want a clean break". Essek touching Caleb's new beard first thing when they reunite after Caleb's grown it. Their candelit video calls. I have to stop myself before I just list everything that happens because it's all SO GOOD. Essek Week 2021 produced some just magnificent fics and this is easily towards the top of that list. Reccer 2 says: The exquisite writing, the Demi Essek, the literal sleeping together, and the way their relationship evolves over time.

we never do go over (we always gotta go through) by Chrome (17169, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In which Essek uses Convergent Future to save the Nein in Aeor and has to take the journey out of Aeor with five levels of exhaustion.

Reccer 1 says: SUCH a classic, I distinctly remember reading this one on my laptop at the back of the forum room my study hall was in, right when it was posted. The physical toll of powerful magic is something I ALWAYS love to see explored, so this was already a success on that part. Add in 5+1, hurt/comfort, and Shadowgast tenderness and getting together? This fic still lives rent free in my head for a reason. Reccer 2 says: Such tenter feelings!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation.

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring fics that include good/complicated mom Deirta. Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr fic recs #fan fiction rec list #critical role fan fiction #cr fic #cr fics #older favorites #older favourites

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krystalcat · 10 months ago

Text

Keep It To Myself

ღ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!Reader

ღ Genre: Smut, angst

ღ Word count: 5,4k

ღ Warnings: cheating, toxic relantionship, voyeurism, reader is Yunho's lover,fwb with Mingi, unprotected sex (big no), creampie, fingering, oral (giving and receiving), dom!Yunho, sub!reader, yunho is massive, pet names(bunny), repressed feelings, praise kink, dacryphilia, rough sex?, lots of teasing, a sprinkle of degradation?, lmk if I forgot anything

ღ Summary: It's hard to keep your hands to yourself when someone like him crossed paths with you. Too bad he wasn't yours to begin with, but it's not like he cared anyways.

ღ Notes: This is the first time I'm writing smut fanfics. It's also been a long time since I've written anything. I hope you like it and I'm very open to (constructive) criticism! Also, English is not my first language and I haven't proofread this, so it's very possible to have grammatical mistakes or sentences that don't make much sense in English. I also got inspired by Elise's Keep It To Myself, so check that out! I'm also not entirely happy with how this turned out, but I figured it was best to post it before rewriting the plot for the 3rd or 4th time lol

ღ Disclaimer: This is only fiction, by writing this I am not trying to represent the member(s) in any way.

You tried studying in peace, but it was difficult when your roommate and his girlfriend were arguing for what it felt like the fiftieth time that week. After months, you still didn’t get used to it.

Despite not being close friends, you didn't think Yunho was the problem, since there was never gossip in your group of him being a toxic person, and the more passionate fights you heard, it was confirmed.

You saw his girlfriend’s behaviour regarding their relationship and Yunho: restricting who he spoke to, deleting his girl friends’ contacts on his phone, getting angry if he doesn’t answer quickly. You’d sometimes even laugh to yourself, saying she was another roommate - the only difference between her and you being the unpaid rent - so those atitudes weren’t hard to miss.

Hell, sometimes you even wondered how she never made a fuss of him having another woman as his roommate, at least you never heard an argument about that.

What bugged you the most was why the hell he wouldn’t break up with her, because he does recognize she’s not a good girlfriend, his screams coming from the kitchen confirm that. Their arguments have just gotten more frequent and boorish over time.

But now it wasn't only their fights that made you distracted. You would be lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on Yunho when you first became roommates, always so polite and gentle whenever you both were in your home. But that's just him being nice and a good person, and after he had gotten a girlfriend you knew your feelings had to go away, which wasn't particularly easy since you both shared a house, but you still managed to do it.

The problem now? They came back stronger than ever. You knew that if you spent more than five minutes in the same room as him, you’d leap onto his arms and his girlfriend would literally kill you. Why? For the past two weeks or so right after they fight, they have some sort of angry-make-up sex, making you unable to control your fantasies.

Hearing Yunho’s groans and moans for the past days made you start having a sexual attraction towards him, and pleasuring yourself to them has been your guilty pleasure. You knew it was wrong, no amount of problems with her would make it okay for him to cheat, but God, the things you would do to switch places with her on that bed.

In the middle of the day, you would suddenly imagine the most filthy and nasty scenarios that made you crave those hands on your cunt, those lips on your breasts and his cock pounding deep inside you. You were addicted to something you hadn’t even try before.

You put down the pencil you were holding when you heard moans coming from Yunho’s room - his moans. Quietly making your way to your bed, you took your shorts and panties off, then laying on your bed.

“F-Fuck, Jiyeon” His faint deep groans sent a shiver down your spine. You suppressed your moans as you rubbed circles on your clit, adjusting your pace to the volume of Yunho’s moans, imagining it was you who made him feel that good and all the indecent things you would let him do to you.

Despite everything, you swore to yourself you’d keep this desire to yourself, that you would never flirt or makes moves on Yunho while was on a relationship.

But that is so fucking hard when he didn’t help you to repress your yearnings at all.

«---- ღ ----»

While binge watching your favorite show, you see Yunho walking out from his room, completely dressed up: white buttoned-up shirt adorned with a black tie, black oxfords and pants that matched his dark blue suit. He checked himself out on the mirror in the living room, “I’m going out and probably won’t come back until tomorrow noon”.

“Got it” Your attention returned to the screen in front of you, hearing his shoes clicking on the floor and the front door shutting.

After maybe a episode or two, you heard the front door opening, hearing Yunho knocking his shoes on the entrance. You turned your head around to be met with a pissed Yunho.

“Didn’t realize it was tomorrow already” You snorted as he entered his room, gaining a grunt from him.

He went back to the living room, standing in front of the tv. You’d probably roll your eyes, if he wasn’t with the first four buttons unbuttoned. My God were you really malfunctioning just because of a little cleavage? You had no shame at all, “Yn I’m not in the mood for jokes right now”.

Quickly admiring his figure, you tried your best to not look affected by his looks, “Do you want to vent or need advice? If not, let me watch my show” His fingers massaged his temples, making him sigh.

“It’s nothing much, but would you really listen to me?” He sat next to you, positioning his elbows on his knees and turning his head to you, you paused you show and sat in a more comfortable position, your body facing his. Now this was unexpected, Yunho was always a reserved person who didn’t want to bother other people with his problems.

“She was supposed to meet me almost two hours ago for dinner and she’s not answering my texts or calls. We aren’t in the best terms lately and I’m scared, for us and her as well”

“Do you know were she might have gone?” He shook his head lightly, “Look, I don’t want to be rude, you don’t have to answer me, but why are you even with her?” He gazed into your eyes, opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again and divert his gaze from yours.

“I’ll have some drinks” He got up, “I’m not mad at you for asking that, I just need to clear my thoughts” He grabbed the keys he had previously left on the kitchen table, heading to his way out.

The butterflies in your stomach meant you should leave him alone, that you shouldn’t spend any sort of quality time together with him, it would melt your mind, making you bound to do something stupid. At the same time, you were worried Yunho would get himself in trouble, that he would let his emotions get the best of him, and you couldn’t bear something happening to him.

“Absolutely not” You got up from the couch heading towards his direction.

“I just want to be alone”

“Yeah but I’m not letting you go through that door”You crossed your arms as he stared back at you, “We don’t need to talk further, but stay here for a moment to collect your thoughts, I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow, ok?”

He looked at you, to his feet, then getting up and going to his room. You sat back down, diverted your gaze and resumed the show, thinking he would disregard your words and go on with his life.

“What are you watching?” You jolted a little when he sat next to you - maybe a little too close for your liking, stomach doing flips and cheeks heating up - now dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

And that’s how you two got closer, dangerously too close, because if being in the same room with him before was hard, now it was arduous. You both would now steal little glances at each other, he would flash you little smiles. When Jiyeon wasn’t there, you’d both tease each other while doing mundane tasks, which was mostly borderline flirting.

Also by some miracle the huge fights stopped, only small arguments here and there. Maybe Yunho did it out of respect for you and the conversation you both had that day, maybe Jiyeon just happened to be in a good temper, who knows. Everything seemed perfect: their relationship was great, no more angry sex, so that attraction towards Yunho disappeared and you had no more guilt looming over your head.

However, after that step forward, you took 100 steps back, because you were now having actual feelings towards Yunho. His smile brightens the room, his touch sends waves down your spine, his presence makes you feel giddy, his teases and flirts make your heart flutter. You had no idea how you got yourself in this situation, perhaps getting closer to him was the last thing you should’ve done to the greater of your sanity.

Your heart spoke louder than your mind, since you couldn’t distance from him once again, not now when you both are friends, and you know what a gentleman and nice person he is, you loved having him around.

What was your next move then? Getting someone else to replace your attraction towards Yunho, which you found quite hard, since you didn’t know many guys, let alone the ones that are both single and decent. Maybe that was a shitty move from you, but it’s still way better than playing around with someone who’s committed.

Lucky you, a few days later Yunho’s friends - who you already knew - came over to play some video games with him, and one of them ditched the hangout to make some moves on you.

“Sooo, are you single?” He asked, leaning on the wall as you made some noodles for dinner.

You laughed at his question, “You know I am Mingi” The tall guy approached you, “Just making sure, I find it hard that a beautiful woman like you is all alone”

“You sure know how to flatter someone” You giggled, turning your head to him with a smirk on your face “What do you want Mingi?” His confident attitude dropped as he widened his eyes, making you laugh lightly “Cat got your tongue? I know you want something, I just want to know what it is”

He cleared his throat, then asking “I-If I asked you if you want to go out with me, would you say yes?” without looking at you. You did not expect him to say something like that, and thought about it for a little: while you wanted to forget Yunho, you couldn’t use one of his friends as a toy, even you had limits.

“L-Look Mingi I think you’re cute, but I’m not ready for something serious and-” He interrupted you, “I thought about something more casual, if you know what I mean.” You let out a ‘oh’ “I-It’s totally okay if you don’t want, but since we’re both single and as I imagine frustrated, I thought why not...?” He clarified, still not making eye contact with you.

“Why not try?” He shot his head up at you, eyes wide and a slight smile on his face, “Really?” You nodded, “Do you want to go out tomorrow or do you think it’s too quick?” He asked. You approached him, gluing your body on his and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Tomorrow seems good”

He snaked his arms around your waist, kissing you slowly as his hands roamed your ass, sometimes tugging at it. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, you hands also made their way to his clothed crotch, making him separate the kiss and grunt silently. “Go back to your friends, I’ll make up for you tomorrow” You whispered, making him roll his eyes as he let go of you to go back to Yunho’s room.

Your little relationship with Mingi - if you could it even call it that - was doing you wonders, for some time your feelings for Yunho faded, specially when Mingi was balls deep into your cunt, all you could do was scream and whimper his name, brain turned into mush. Still, from time to time you would think it was Yunho instead of Mingi fucking you dumb, but you tried your best to repress those desires.

But one day you slip up, you moaned Yunho’s name out loud, and to say you were embarrassed was an understatement.

Mingi halted all movements. “I-I’m so sorry” You muttered under your breath, only loud enough for him to hear, voice cracking as tears filled your eyes. Mingi removed himself from you, “Yn look at me”

You refused to, continuing to stare at the pillow as Mingi caressed your hips, waiting for your response, “Yn I’m not mad, we’re not together, I’m just confused,” He heard your sniffs, making him turn you around and hug you.

“Do you want to stop?” You nodded, making him hold you tighter until he calmed you down enough so that he could bring your and his clothes.

After explaining the whole situation to him, he said he wouldn’t mind to keep your little ‘friends-with-benefits’ thing going on if you still wanted it and assured you he didn’t care about the slip-up. At the end, you knew he understood the mess you were in and took pity in your situation.

«---- ღ ----»

You were awaken from a loud thud coming from the living room, heart racing as your mind thought about the most far-fetched and terrifying scenarios that it could. Slowly getting out of the bed and tiptoeing towards the bedroom door, you heard some mumbles coming from the other room.

You put your ear on the door to hear better. Knock knock knock. You jolted and gasped silently, backing away from the door, “Yn?” A female voice called from the other side, making you realize who it was. Opening the door you saw Jiyeon, smeared lipstick and smokey eyes adorning her delicate face as she reeked from alcohol.

“You scared the living shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled.

“Sorry, um... Yunho and I were at the club with some friends and he is pretty wasted, can I ask a favor?”

“Go on”

“So tomorrow I will be leaving town to meet my family, and I can’t be here looking after Yunho until he falls asleep, could you do that?”

“Jiyeon, I’m sorry but-”

“Please! I know it’s late and that I should have managed my time better, but it’s just this time and I trust you more than his friends to take good care of him”

Now, that was odd. Out of all the people in his life, you were the one she trusted the most? When you literally have feelings for him, have touched yourself while thinking of him and while she was the one on his bed. But Yunho is still your friend after all, surely nothing will go wrong while you care after him and tidy him, right?

“Okay, I'll try and do my best”

“Thank you so much, he's in the couch, probably half-awake” You both went to see him, he was laying on his back, hooded eyes staring through the ceiling, “I'll go now, thank you once again”.

With the door closing, it was just you and a drunk Yunho, who seemed to have a staring contest with the white ceiling.

“Yunho, are you feeling nauseous?” He kept facing the ceiling as you called his name from afar, “Yunho?" You spoke louder this time, getting closer, the smell of cheap liquor invading your nostrils.

“Uh... Whaaat?” His slurred speech would have almost made you laugh if you weren't worried sick for him.

“Do you wanna puke?” He shook his head. “Okay, let's go to your room, can you get up?” He slowly shifted in his seat and stood up, losing his balance immediately, falling on the couch.

“Great” You massaged your temples, “How am I supposed to carry you to your room?” You sat on his side, putting one of his arms around your neck and holding it as your left arm wrapped around his torso.

With a little difficulty, you stood up. Despite managing to support him, his weight still made you bump on the hallway. Reaching his room felt like minutes.

You sat him on the bed, then unlacing and taking off his shoes as he watched you silently. Then helping him getting rid of the black leather jacket, leaving him in a white tee and black jeans.

“Look, you stink, I need to run you a shower” You explained, “This will be weird, because I need you to take off your pants”

He nodded, complying to your task slowly as you looked away to not make this any more embarrassing.

“You can turn” He said, making you turn around and trying to help him get up from the bed, avoiding looking down at his bare thighs and crotch area, cheeks burning up at the thought of it.

With a blink of an eye, Yunho's left hand was behind your head as his right propped him up, making you freeze on his hold. “Can I kiss you?” After what felt like an eternity, he asked, making you widen your eyes, no answer leaving your mouth.

You wondered if it was the booze or him talking, but his red cheeks, messy hair, somewhat slurred speech and daze gave you the answer.

“You're drunk Yunho, you don't know what you're talking about” You explained after a long staring contest, failing to cover the disappointment in your voice.

“I really want to kiss you” His grip on your neck softened a little, starting to caress it, “You look better with me, not with Mingi” Silence fell in the room, you looked away from him and bit your lip, sighing. Sure it wasn’t a secret you two were together, although it was just fun and games between you two, but it shouldn’t bother him that you’re with someone else.

“Yunho” You started with an hoarse voice, holding the tears threatening to leave your eyes, “You're speaking nonsense, let's go, I'll turn the water on for you”

The grip on your neck strengthened once again and before you knew it your lips crashed.

Different from Yunho, you kept your eyes open and wide, a million thoughts raced through your head, before finally giving into the kiss as Yunho urged you to become closer.

He bit your lower lip, taking the opportunity to insert his tongue in your mouth as you let out a silent whimper, deepening the kiss.

Getting drunk on his tongue, you threw yourself onto Yunho, both falling onto the bed without letting go of each other. Rolling on top of you, he started caressing your cheek with his thumb.

After the probably best moment of your life, you let go of him, finally allowing you both to breathe. As you stared into each other's eyes, Yunho's thumb and index fingers hooked into your chin, closing the small distance between you.

You don't know what it was, maybe it was the drunken state leaving your body, the guilt of taking advantage of Yunho or Jiyeon's words resurfacing your mind. But it probably was a mix of the three. You stopped Yunho, taking his hands off of you, making him frown.

“This is a mistake, you’ll regret it tomorrow, probably you won’t even remember this once you’re sober” You stood up “I’m turning on the water” You said as you walked towards the bathroom to do it, hiding the tears that threatened to leave your eyes, but for the sake of appearances and the possibility of him remembering these events tomorrow, you hid it.

You didn’t speak to each other as you gave him a bath, he sat on the shower as you shampooed his hair and rinsed it. You gave up on scrubbing his body in the middle of it due to your heartbroken state. After drying him quickly, you gave his some boxers and pajamas, waiting for him to go to bed to make sure he wouldn’t hit is head or fall down.

After putting him to bed, you crawled back to yours, crying yourself to sleep while thinking about what happened and how you fucked your friendship up, wishing all of this was just a dream.

The next few days were awkward, Yunho kept talking with you as if nothing had happened, probably because he didn’t remember, but you still couldn’t forget his kiss and his slurred words that night. He sometimes would ask if everything was alright, but you lied saying the last days have been tiring and you just needed to rest well.

«---- ღ ----»

You grabbed your keys, trying your best to make the least amount of silence possible since it was almost 1am. You had gone out with Mingi to a club, but before that, stopping at his house for some action.

The door opened, revealing your pitch dark apartment, just like you thought, Yunho was already asleep. You then shut it behind you and took off your heels to tiptoe towards your room. As you walked towards it, you saw the door from Yunho’s room wasn’t completely closed, a dim yellow light illuminating the hallway.

Since you didn’t hear a sound, you thought he had forgotten to turn off the light on his bedside, still trying to silently get into your room, slowly turning the door knob to open it.

“Yn...” Hearing your name coming in a low grunt from the other room made you shot your head up. You were pretty sure it was a moan coming from Yunho’s room, your cheeks flustered at the thought of him jerking off thinking of you.

Interest and curiosity took the best of you, making you silently spy Yunho through the door crack. He sat on the bed, no pants on, boxers still hanging on his feet as he slowly jerked himself off. Your mouth opened wide at the sight of his cock’s size. It was probably the biggest you have ever seen in real life.

After admiring his show for a few more moments, you realized you should leave before he catches you looking and make everything between you two even more awkward. As you made the way to your room, the wooden floor creaked, making you internally cursing yourself, hoping he didn’t notice it.

“Yn?” Yunho asked, opening his room’s door wide. Lucky for you, you were already at the front of your bedroom door.

“S-Sorry did I wake you up?” You gave him a slight smile, trying to be as convincing as possible.

“For someone who insists that kissing me was a mistake you sure were enjoying the view” Your face dropped, making you look like a deer in the headlights. Silence filled the whole apartment as Yunho waited for an answer.

“I-I’m sorry” Was all you said before looking away from him and heading to your room, but Yunho wasn’t accepting that so easily. He grabbed your arm and trapped you between the wall and himself.

“I can see it in your eyes, why are you lying to yourself?”

“Because you’re with someone else, that’s why. Just because she’s a poor excuse of a girlfriend that doesn’t make it right for you to cheat on her ”

“I don’t care about her”

“Liar!” Tears slowly streamed down your face “If you didn’t care you would’ve ended things a long time ago!”

“It’s complicated, and you know that! If you liked me so much you wouldn’t have started a relationship with Mingi either!” You took his hands off of you.

“We’re not together!” You tried to get away from him, only for Yunho to grab you once again and plant a kiss on your lips, making you relax on him.

He deepened the kiss, making you snake your arms behind his neck, tongue and teeth crashing together as lust and passion dominated you both. Still not letting go of each other, Yunho guided you to your room, closing the door behind him.

He let go of you, leaning a bit back to check you out “Fuck I can’t believe Mingi had all this to himself, you’re so fucking pretty” He attacked your neck with light kisses and bites, making you a whimpering mess as you got wetter.

“I love hearing your little whimpers, you’re so cute, Bunny” A shiver went down you spine “Do you like the nickname, Bunny?” He whispered in your ear, taunting you “These clothes look good on you, but I bet you look better without them” He sat in your bed as you stood in front of him.

You slowly took your clothes, Yunho’s eyes not leaving your body as he licked his lips. Only in your undergarments, you straddled his lap, his hands touching and grabbing every inch of your body. With a loud huff, he took off his t-shirt to reveal his chest and abs.

He pulled you to another kiss, this time a more passionate one, caressing your face as he unclasped your bra in one go, letting the straps fall on your arms. You pulled away from him to take it off, him grabbing and kissing them as light whimpers left your mouth.

He grabbed your hand, positioning it on his tent, “Fuck baby, I need to feel you right now”, you got on your knees, pulling his pants down to his feet, revealing his boxers already with a wet spot on his clothed tip. Touching him through his boxers made him throw his head back with a loud whimper, “Please for the love of God don’t tease me y/n”

You smirked, pulling his boxers down, revealing a leaking and angry tip. As you had already suspected, Yunho was big, you had no idea how it would fit you, but that was something to worry about later.

You started by stroking him and giving him kitty licks, his noises soon encouraged you to try and take him. “Oh fuck...” Yunho moaned and dropped himself on the bed as you sucked his tip, trying to suck more every time your head bobbed up and down.

Tears filled the corners of your eyes as his length hit the back of your throat, loving the stinging sensation it left behind. You felt a hand grabbing your hair lightly, making you look up, locking eyes with Yunho, his filled with lust, “You’re taking me so well bunny” his compliments only made you wetter and more eager to swallow more of his cock.

“Let me help you out b-bunny” He grabbed your hair in a ponytail to then force your throat down his shaft, tears streaming down your face as he wrecked your mouth. You moved your panties aside, making circles around your clit as he kept controlling your head movements.

He let out a deep chuckle, “Is my bunny horny just by sucking me off?” You let out a moan at his words, throat vibrating around his cock, making him moan as well. His movements faltered as his groans got louder and louder, soon him releasing in your mouth and his grip on your head.

You quickly moved back, coughing from the lack of air in your lungs, your throat stinging a bit from the workout. Yunho grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He kissed your tears away, loving how wrecked you looked when he had done barely anything to you.

“Are you okay?” You nodded at his answer “I’m sorry for being so harsh, if I ever do anything you don’t like please warn me” You laughed slightly at his concerns, “Use me however you want” You whispered to his ear, noticing how his lips curved in a menacing grin.

“Is that so? Lay on the bed for me then, love” Hearing Yunho calling you love made you dizzy, by this time you had forgotten he had another woman he could call ‘love’, not a single once of guilt tainting your heart and making you doubt this moment.

You laid on the bed, it was Yunho’s turn to get on his knees. He pulled you closer towards him, giving you kisses along your thighs as you begged him to stop teasing you. He dragged your panties along your legs, throwing it somewhere on the room.

“Holy fuck...” You moaned out loud when he licked your folds, burying his head on your cunt, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow. You tried your best to contain your moans, which only riled Yunho up even more.

“Y-Yunho- Fuck, calm down” You whined, feeling overstimulated from his mouth alone, without even coming once, feeling him smirk as the kept tongue-fucking you. He backed away from your dripping cunt, arousal dripping down his chin.

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to tease you”

“Fuck yes I did, but if you keep going on I’m not lasting long”

“Great that’s my intention” He pushed one finger with ease inside you, making you whimper slightly “More” He chuckled at your reaction, complying to your wishes and adding another one. He thrust his fingers in and out of you, eliciting moans from you. You loved how deep his fingers went inside your cunt, still, it wasn’t enough for you.

“Y-Yunho” You moaned out loud, incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Hmm?” He looked up to you, watching your fucked out face contort with please, “Does my bunny want more?” You nodded your head quickly, making him chuckle, “You’re such a whore for me” and how right he was, you would let him do anything to you in this moment,

He added one more, stretching your cunt out as he lowered his head to your cunt. You combination of his fingers inside you and his tongue flickering your bud turned you into a moaning mess. You quickly felt your high approaching, and Yunho knew that by the way your pussy tightened around his fingers.

“Cum for me bunny, I know you want to” His words were enough to drive you to your edge, making you cream around his fingers as he kept lapping your clit, riding out your orgasm.

He took of his fingers and put them in front of you, making you clean them up and taste yourself.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?”

“Forget that, just go raw” He widened his eyes, “A-Are you sure?” you nodded your head. He got up on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs and his length in your entrance.

“I’m going slow, tell me when it’s okay to move” He slowly inserted his head in you, making moan and wrap your legs around his waist. As he kept pushing himself inside you, your moans grew louder until he bottomed out.

“F-Fuck, you’re huge” You groaned, he stilled inside you as he caressed your face and thighs to relax you. “You can move” He started slowly, you bit your lips to suppress the moans from leaving your mouth, clawing at the sheets.

Yunho tested the waters by speeding up the pace, drawing more moans from you, which gave him the green light to fuck you dumb. He placed your legs on his shoulders and lowered down to meet your lips, giving a short peck.

“Fuck Yn, you’re driving me crazy” He moaned out loud, making you smile, to which he asked “Why are you smiling?” His pace never faltering, his tip brushing your g-spot every time.

“T-The name you’re moaning is mine” You managed to speak between moans, “My bunny is so dirty” He laughed, his thrusts getting sloppier and his moans getting louder.

“Come inside me, please” You locked gazes, he gave you a taunting smirk as he used one of his hands to draw circles around your clit. You felt like your mind was breaking apart from the amount of pleasure, soon feeling a knot on your stomach.

“Do you like being full of me? Fuck, baby I’m so close” He announced, before bursting inside you, your walls sucking him dry. You loved the feeling of being full to the brim by him. Still inside you, he kept drawing circles on your bud and sucking on your breasts. Soon, you came as well, moaning his name out loud.

He removed himself from you, feeling his cum drip down onto the sheets, making a mess, “I’m grabbing a towel, don’t move” He grabbed it quickly, you barely noticing his absence.

He cleaned you up, giving you kisses. Still, a question lingered on your mind.

“What about us Yunho?”

“I’m ending things with Jiyeon, I love you yn”

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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nosesitter · 1 year ago

Text

Jacuzzi tub

| Father in law! Joel miller

3.8k words

a/n:same thing as the last chapter I started out with a different idea hated it so I deleted the whole thing and popped this out quicker than the last thing I was working on. I just wanna say THANK YOU for the love on the last part I had lots fun writing it. probably the next thing I write I’ll take a vote cause I have too many ideas but no where to start.

⚠️: infidelity!!!,father in law!Joel Miller, faking an orgasm, f!masturbation, one mention of m!masturbation, very generous and absolutely hot mentions of joel gaining a few extra pounds(I love a man with a big meaty body), recorded sex, they quite literally have sex in front of her husband!! his son!!, cucking?, one mention of pussy slapping, descriptive and sloppy m!oral, f!oral, Joel dirty talking and just being outta pocket, cream pie, unprotected pinv

In the fours years of you being with Walker you’ve never faked an orgasm, but now in the past few nights you’ve faked it three times. Your greedy cunt just missing the feeling of Joel, your father in law, who took advantage of you a couple days ago. Well…you kind of stopped him…but you kind of didn’t. You never filmed with Walker that night when he got home.

“I’m sorry baby I just have a headache right now.”

You can only use that excuse for so long, so now your ankles are on his shoulders and his eyes are locked on you while you’re trying your best to look interested, faking moans, and rolling your eyes back. It hurts that you have to act this way to your husband that you love so much but you’ve got a taste for his father. Joel hasn’t been over at all leaving you alone with your thoughts on the whole situation. As your in your head Walkers’ thrusts begin to get frantic, pumping into you faster, his neck and face getting red as he starts spills inside of you. He pulls out and falls besides you eyes shutting immediately he’s asleep now.

You can feel him beginning to spill out of you so you get up and head to the bathroom to take a bath. As you’re waiting for the tub to fill up you sit and just look at the tub itself. It’s a jacuzzi tub. a wedding gift from Joel to you. The house never came with a bath but after very little convincing Joel was happy to install one for you right next to the shower. He spent a couple months remodeling the bathroom around to give you what you wanted. The sounds of him laboring away while you were a couple rooms over editing videos for your onlyfans. To thank Joel for your bathroom everyday you made him lunch and baked him lots of sweets.

As the water rises above the jets you flip them on, the humming of them kicking on causing water to bubble up. Slowly stepping in letting your body get used to the hot temperatures before sinking in. You add a little bubble bath and let it foam up around you. The tension around your neck begins to let up and your shoulders start to relax. As you sit in the bath you think more about your twisted situation with Joel, you want it to disgust you, to make you want to cry, and confess to your husband but you can’t. There’s just a tingle between your legs as you sit in the tub he installed just for you.

When he finished installing the tub he came downstairs to see you in the kitchen, wrapped up in a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, your arms and hands covered in flour as you were making him a pie from scratch to thank him. You look up at him and notice him staring at you but thinking more about that moment you take notice in how you’re cooking has made him gain a few extra pounds, sending him home with dinner and dessert nearly every night. It came to a point where he had to stop you because even he began to take notice in how his shirts fit just a little tighter and the extra hole he poked with his knife into his belt.

“Look what you’re doing to me darlin’ “ he says as he sits on the couch unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoning his pants letting a bit of his gut come out from as he takes a deep breath.

Your mind comes back to you in the tub and the jet that poking right into your lower back is about to get used for something else right now. You turn around and align yourself with the water being pushed out at a firm pressure. You scoot closer your knees spreading into the porcelain tub, your hands grab at the rim of the tub holding yourself level with the jet. Your buck your hips forward and the jet pulses right into your cunt. You moan out in shock and grip the edge of tub tighter in your hands. Hips bucking over the jet to start a rhythm, your thighs beginning to shake one hand lets go of the tub and grab at your chest, taking your nipple in between your fingers pulling ever so slightly at it

Your mind going right back to Joel sitting on your couch legs spread, pants undone, one hand holding a beer and the other bent behind his head. He looked so goddamn good that night. Now your mind can’t help but think about how the night could’ve gone different if you just straddled his big thighs and slowly grounded yourself into him. You imagine he’d just watch you on top of him, still in his lax state maybe even taking va sip of his beer while you go crazy on his jean covered lap. Your feet start to ache from the pointed state they are in but your orgasm is so close you can feel it. you close your eyes breathing from your mouth, the heat of the water causing a couple beads of sweat to roll down your temple. Slowly rocking yourself into the jet the water begins to slosh around. Like a chant, your mind just screams Joel. At this point you can’t help but think about him and how’d he look if you rode him. The way his face would contort, the noises he’d make, and the dirty filthy things he’d say about you.

Something along the lines of ‘cock hungry housewife’ or ‘his slutty daughter in law’

Your knees try to shut by themself as you begin to ride out your orgasm. Your hands holding tight onto the edge of the tub, you feel like you’ll float away if you let go. As you reach your peak Joel’s cocky smile flashes behind your eyes and you can’t help but let his name escape your lips making the infidelity seem so real now. Your knees drop and you’re a panting mess, pressing the top of your body into the cold tub you just dangle your arms over the tub and catch your breath. Praying and hoping to god Walker didn’t hear you moan his fathers name.

The bath water goes cold by the time you get out. Giving your legs a break from the beating they took from you and the jet. Slipping your robe on and slowly opening the bathroom door, peaking around to see your husband, leg dangling off the bed and his face shoved into the pillow. He heard nothing. The lump in your throat subsides, for now, as you slip into bed. Checking your phone you left on the nightstand you see two texts from Joel. One an attachment and another a text. Your heart races as you unlock your phone and press on his notification.

My third time today jerking off, can’t stop thinking about your tight pussy

It’s a picture of him watching porn. By the way he’s taking the picture it seems like he has his phone very close to his face as he shows his bare.. hairy… meaty thighs and his cock hard as can fucking be. When your eyes make contact with it, you flip your phone screen down into the blanket trying to think if you saw that correctly. Raising it back up you look at his angry red tip and the ropes of cum in his open hand on his thigh. Your eyes race all over the picture and you make out what he was watching. Your fingers pinch the screen to zoom in and the screen says.. daughter in law is an easy fuck!!

———

You slept with your phone clutched close to you last night, scared that Joel was going to send another text and Walker was going to look at it.

By the time you wake up it’s a little after 10 in the morning. Walker has a dentist appointment today and you told him to wake up so you could take him but he loves letting you just sleep in. Your mind races a million miles a minute as you look at your phone and see that he’s going to ask his father to pick him up and drop him off. Do you get ready? do you wear a lot or very little clothing? do you do your makeup? First you decide to brush your teeth and comb your hair but somewhere along the way you started doing your makeup, mascara, eyeliner, and a pair of lashes. If you were going to see Joel you were going to look good.

Not knowing what to do with yourself you decide to just sit on the couch and wait for Walker and Joel. Ten minutes of twiddling your thumbs later and Joel’s truck pulls up in the driveway. Leaping off the couch and going to the window peaking a little from behind the blinds to see Joel rushing to the passenger side door as Walker, who looks absolutely drugged up, opens the door body dangling out. You watch Joel be soft with the boy, grabbing his hands, steadying his body against the truck as Joel grabs his medicine. It’s a tender moment and even with what happened between the two of you he loves his son, his only kid, he’ll always love him. You open the door and Walker pushes himself off his father and onto you engulfing you in a big hug that pushes you back a little.

“My wife! Ah..god I love saying that,” Joel grabs him off you and walks him further into the house. “I want to go upstairs! I want to make love to my wife!” Walker demands to his father, causing your face to go red, you can feel the heat rise off your body when Joel snickers a little at that comment. Joel just grabs his sons arm and drapes it over his shoulder as they walk side by side up the stairs. He kicks the door open with his dirty boot and then drops his son spread on the bed. Within seconds Walkers’ eyes begin to close but you’re quick to get him comfortable before he can pass out from the drugs. Joel goes back downstairs and a few moments later returns with a beer in his hand and Walkers medicine in the other.

“Doc said his mouth gauze needs to be changed every three hours.” Taking a big sip of the beer as he tosses the bag on the bed. The bottle leaves his lips, a line of saliva keeping him connected to the bottle, causing him to swipe his tongue across his bottom lip. it’s almost like an invitation for you to do something. His eyes wonder from you then to the bathroom right at the tub he installed.

“You liking the tub?” He begins to walk closer to you, the neck of the bottle being held by his thick fingers. You rise from Walkers side staring right into Joel’s eyes. “I remember when you asked me to install it,” his fingers coming up to push back some of the hair in your face. “I agreed happily cause I knew you’d be rubbing your pussy against the jet.” Your breath hitches in your throat and Joel takes notice in that your reaction making him chuckle. “Goddamn dirty slut!” His words echoing through the room, Walker snoring lightly besides y’all.

“I made myself cum on it last night.” It comes out of you so honestly that you can’t think about why you said it until after it sits in the air. He sets the empty bottle on the night stand and notices your wedding ring there as well. You wanted this and he sees that, it sends a bolt of electricity through his chest.

“Take off my clothes.” He tells you and you comply not really needing to be told twice or at all, you want him bare, you want to see his body and all the age and history it holds. Every scar and bruise you want to kiss, to run your tongue down his chest, over his stomach. The salty taste of him on the tip of your tongue as you run it down his peppered happy trail.

Falling to your knees quick, small hands tugging at his belt, to pull it out in one swoop and then unbuttoning his pants, your hand tries to push itself inside his boxers but he just grabs at your wrist shaking his head. “Gotta work for it, bitch.” You’re so taken back by him saying that but he keeps you in check by grabbing your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks tightly with his fingers. “Daddy didn’t tell you to stop did he?” It’s crazy how you’re eating this shit up right now.

Joel’s lips smash into your squished face, his hand moving from your face to your throat applying light pressure to the sides with his thumb and pointer finger. He pulls away and his eyes are black with lust at this point, your face is burning up you can feel your wetness beginning to seep out the sides of your panties, the cold wood floor keeping your body from engulfing in flames. Your husband, his son asleep right next to y’all.

“G’head you ain’t done with me yet, sweetheart.” You stand back up and grab the edge of his shirt pulling it off his chest and over his arms, his salt and peppered chest hair sits so nicely spread in the middle of his tan pecs. A bit of his stomach rolling over his boxers, god he’s look so fucking hot, so…big, so..delicious. You grab his face in your hands and press your lips hard back into his, he slips his tongue inside your mouth, an animalistic urge takes over you as you bite down on the appendage. He pulls back and lets out a low growl his thumbs snaking down to hook into his boxers as he lets them slide down his thick thighs. His cock coming out and slapping against his lower stomach.

“G’me my phone,” he holds his hand out and you grab it from his pile of clothes and hand it to him. He swipes it open and then holds it above his stomach the back camera pointing right at you. “don’t get shy on me now.” He says and you give him an evil smile as you begin to tie your hair back ready to give him the sloppiest head in his life. Your hands holds his cock straight your tongue swirling around the tip before you pull back and spit right at it using the spit as lube in your hand.

You take him back in your mouth going fully down your nose getting tickled by the mound of pubic hair on him. He moans out as you let him rest in the back of your throat swallowing around the tip. He grabs the back of your messy ponytail with his free hand and pulls you off him, lines of spit connecting his cock to your mouth. You look at the camera and give it a little giggle before you go back to sucking, your hand jerks the rest of him while you take just the tip, you pull moan after moan from him it’s music to your ears to hear him like this. His hand goes back to your ponytail pushing you deeper onto him earning gags to come from your throat.

“This girl right here is my daughter in law, look at the way she sucks cock, her father in laws cock.” His praise just eggs you on to give the camera a real show one that they’ve never seen with your husband. Your hands grab at his ass as you push him deeper into your throat, you stay still for a few seconds just breathing through your nose as you moan on his cock. You finally pull back when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. Lines of spit falling from your mouth, you look up at the camera and breathe through your mouth causing spit bubbles to rise and pop.

He pulls you up by your armpit and walks you to the edge of the bed where he tosses you like laundry onto it. Joel pushes walkers legs to his side of the bed and lays you back further on it. His upper half of his body is resting on the bed while one leg steadies himself he grabs your legs and motions them over his shoulders while he lowers his head down to your wet cunt. He licks a stripe up you, you let out a lewd moan at the contact of his tongue on you. His lips kiss at your clit, sucking lightly rubbing it between his lips. Your hands grab at the phone that’s still recording, you hold it steady as you capture him eating you out happily. His head moves back as his hand comes around to pull back your mound exposing your clit to the cold bedroom air. The tip of his tongue just assaults your clit relentlessly. Your moans getting louder and louder, you spread your arm reaches out and you accidentally to touch Walker, you recoil your free hand back into Joel’s hair.

Greedy hands push his head into you, slowly grinding yourself into his mouth. He moves his head away this time hand coming down to slap your clit. Your mouth gapes open you want to scream from the contact but your hand just goes over your mouth.

“Greedy girls get punished, don’t do it again otherwise you won’t cum.” You dare not toy with him because you know he’ll stop. The thought of being edged sounds fun but not when you’ve been craving Joel for three days now. His hand grabs the phone as he pushes himself up to his knees he moves closer to you your legs going around his waist to pull him in. He lines himself up with you and slowly pushes in the camera getting in close to capture your hungry cunt taking his whole thick length. You take a breath when he bottoms out he slowly begins moving.

“Fucking hell-‘ he hisses out as he slowly starts to move.” She’s sucking me back in.” He’s referring to your pussy that’s clenching so hard around him. You want him to always be inside of you, while you wash the dishes, while you cook, you know that Joel has a home office maybe one day you can go over while he works and just sit on his cock. His pace gets faster and faster the bed staring to shake from his thrusts.

“Already creamin’ on me darlin’.” His accent sounds like melted honey in your ears, Walker does his best to conceal his accent, but not Joel he embraces his Texan roots and you find the southern charm irresistible. “Mmm, darlin’ you are sweeter than your pies.” His thumb rubbing small circles in your clit stops as he licks the spent from his finger. You can feel your burning orgasm coming you feel like you’re going to explode.

He pulls out of you quickly causing you to whine at the loss. He grabs your thigh and flips you around making you stare right at Walker who’s still passed out. Your ass is hiked up in the air Joel pressing himself back into you and starting up his ruthless pace. “Fuck look at that ass shaking.” He says and a hard slap lands on your ass, your mouth biting into the comforter to stop any noise from coming out but the sound of skin on skin defeats the purpose.

“Daddy-please let me cum!” You whine out between his thrusts, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix each time. He drops his phone down on the bed, one hand on your hip and the other coming around your thigh to press your stomach in feeling his cock rub against your insides. You’re drooling at this point so cock drunk that you can’t help what you say or do next.

“Cum in me again daddy, put a fucking baby in me!” You scream out and who is Joel to deny the request of a beautiful woman. He thrusts into you faster then let’s out an echoing moan as he spills inside on you. The feeling of him blowing his load is enough to send you over the edge. Screaming into the comforter as he thrusts his cum deeper inside of you. He pulls out and falls on your side of the bed. Walker, his wife, and his father all in the same bed it’s a twisted fucking scene for sure. You try to move but your legs feel stuck just scooting up the bed right in the middle of them.

“I’ve been faking my orgasms for the past couple nights.” You tell him bluntly, you tell him like it’s his fault because is it. He’s ruined you for your husband and he knows it. You’ve also ruined him, how is he supposed to go back to having pussy from a rando. He wants his daughter in law, his kinky daughter in law who sucks and fucks like his own personal pornstar.

“Well when you feel like that darlin, just break something and you know I’ll be over in a heartbeat, just for you.” Walker begins to move around groaning at the pain that’s coming from his mouth that causes Joel to get up and begin getting dressed. You sit up and begin to take care of your husband. Joel gives you a light whistle as you take the bloody gauze out of walkers mouth your head turning to look at the door. He gives you a wink and blows you a kiss then walks out the door leaving you with your husband once again.

———

Like, comment, reblog, validate me 🫶🏻

0808

#joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #father in law!joel miller #nosesitter

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burn-before-reading · 4 months ago

Text

Long Ways Away

Bucky Barnes x Reader

connection, reconnection, and a small miscommunication. Bucky will travel however far if it means making you smile

wordcount: 4k

a/n: This was originally written AGES ago (2021) for @wkemeup ‘s 9k writing prompts. I had a different blog and posted one or two fics then ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE WHOLE BLOG. oops 🤷. remade this one and now im back into writing a bunch again so figured i might as well respost it. i had some other bucky fics i never finished writing so who knowsss i might go back and finish them :p

based on the prompt:

Character A calls Character B in the middle of the night crying - something they’ve never done before. They’re several states away. [B] gets in the car without hesitation and drives to wherever they are.

Bucky found himself on the balcony, looking out into the busy New York nightlife. Cars driving through the busy streets. He felt it matched the energy inside the Tower. If he looked behind he would have found Tony chatting away, creating a spectacle and being the center of attention as usual. Sam was playing pool against Scott. Accusing him of cheating by using ants to move the balls around when he wasn’t looking. Steve and Natasha were in the corner chatting away about the last mission. Steve was always a little too focused on work, even when these get-togethers were planned to distract the team from just that.

It was why Bucky needed a break, that's what he would say at least. The reason for this whole party, as much as he hated the whole spectacle. A break from the team. A break from missions. He just needed an out, for now.

It’s at least what he was telling himself.

“Hey Stranger. Found your hiding spot.” He glanced behind and saw you there. Relaxed and leaning against the doorway, a half empty drink in your hand. Smiling like there wasn’t a reason for you to be sad. He smiled back for a second, like he was still going to be here tomorrow.

He would miss you the most.

______

You hadn’t called yet.

He wasn’t too worried at first, the last he heard from you, you had said Steve was planning a mission and you probably would be gone for a while. You didn’t specify what kind of mission. You never did. He hated that.

In all honesty taking this break, full on Move-Into-a-subburb-in-Indiana kinda break, was killing him. It was one of those things he thought he would be fine with. The neighbors were nice. A sweet old lady who was always baking and bringing him cookies and pies. The other was your typical nuclear family. Maybe that was something Bucky would have wanted back in the 40s. Now he’s not so sure.

Bucky’s so called retirement wasn’t that exactly. He wasn’t off the team. It was a break. A long break. A break for some undetermined amount of time, but had currently lasted for almost six months. Time away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Of Avenger life. Steve had suggested it after Bucky had one too many sleepless nights. Giving him time to try and live a life not fighting for something. Somewhere peaceful. He would’ve considered it sooner, if it weren’t for you.

He didn’t know how it had started. The friendship between the two of you. He knows you were the one to first initiate the conversation. It had taken him a while to warm up to you. He’s almost mad at himself that he didn’t keep track of all your interactions. Everytime he heard you laugh. Everytime you sat next to him during a movie night. When Your friendship started bleeding into something else. He felt like the two of you skipped a step somewhere. A line between friends and… something else, something better, started to blur.

You would slip into his room at night right before the nightmares could start. Running your hands through his hair as you softly sung lullabies and old songs. You spent the night more often than not. Fast asleep with your arms wrapped around him. His head delicately tucked into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around your waist. You both waking up in each other's arms, tangled together in a peaceful bliss.

He knows what ended it. It was his fault. He pushed away.

But Damnit, Bucky did miss you.

At least you called every once in a while. Giving him updates about everything going on at the tower. It was like clockwork, almost. A call springing up at the end of almost every week, updating him on every little detail of Steve's extremely long Disney Movie Marathon. Last update you gave was he just finished the Renaissance era. Swearing on your life that you managed to catch him singing along to The Little Mermaid.

Another time you called just to complain about how bad your sparring session with Nat was.

“I swear someone must’ve pissed her off before it because now I have a stupid bruise on my back and it just hurts all over” you groaned over the phone. he could imagine you lying on the floor in your room. Blankets thrown about and laptop angled so you could still watch Netflix. The thought made him laugh which caused you to respond “Don’t laugh at my misery!”

If it wasn’t a call, you would text, but that was rare. You had confessed early on that you hated texting, but you couldn’t help but send him pictures and videos of the group hanging out. You, Wanda, and Natasha in the lounge watching horror movies. Sneaky photos of Steve asleep in the common area. His favorite had to be when you send a video of Sam spacing out and crashing into a window while flying. He sent back laughing emojis and saved the video.

He never said much about his time away. He got a cat. A little white furball he named Alpine. He sent you a handful of pictures that you absolutely adored.

He would say that the time away has been helping. Less chaos, more calm. He always tried to make it sound like he was enjoying his time away. The neighbors were nice. The place was quiet. He was getting sleep. Enjoying his break.

He was starting to miss the chaos. He was missing you.

He always looked forward to your calls, even though they always seemed to interrupt him meditating, like today. It had been over a month since your last call.

You had changed your ringtone to some upbeat song he honestly couldn’t stand at first but grew on him over time. It couldn’t even finish its first verse before he picked up the phone and spoke with a smile on his face.

“Hey, Y/N. You back from your mission?” He only heard silence back at first, and it scared him. “Doll, are you there?” More silence before he could barely pick up the faint sniffling. “Y/N, are you okay?”

More silence. More sniffling. He was getting ready to call Steve or text him or Something before he heard your voice speak up. A fragile, tear-filled response. It broke his heart.

“I’m Sorry Bucky. I shouldn’t have called.”

Then the line goes dead.

______

“You should go back inside y/n. Go enjoy the party.”

“What's the point of it if the person it's for isn’t even there?” you walk over and lean against the railing so your back is to the view. You stared at the inside for a second before looking at him again. “Excited for retirement?” He rolled his eyes at your half assed joke.

“Its not retirement. Its just, a break.” That made you laugh a little. Your nose scrunched up the tiniest amount and is made Bucky smile. He would miss your laugh.

“It feels like retirement, you bought a house and everything. In Indiana right?”

“Yeah.”

“Kinda far from the tower, don’t you think?” you finished up what was left in your glass and set it on the small standing table to the side of you before focusing your attention back to him.

“That was kind of the point. Somewhere quiet, or well, quieter than here.” He gestured to the city, but part of you felt he meant the team.

______

He doesn’t care that the drive is eleven hours. He doesn’t care that he had to stick his now grumpy cat in a carrier and put her in the front seat. Be doesn’t care that he’s rushed out of his house at three in the afternoon with nothing but the desire to check on you.

He does care that you haven’t answered or returned any of his calls yet and Bucky swears on his life he is going to murder Steve if he doesn’t pick up either. He hears it ring three times before he answers.

“Hey, Buck. Whats up?” Steve says into the phone nonchalantly. It's starting to piss him off.

“What happened Steve.” His voice was cold and his grip on the steering wheel tightened with each second. What happened, what happened.

“Wait what do you mean.”

“Y/N Steve! What happened to her on her mission.” his voice cracked a bit as he tried to keep it together. Something was wrong and he didn’t know what.

“Y/n’s mission? It went fine she got back a while ago and… wait did she call you?” He seemed surprised.

“Yes! Y/N was crying and she just hung up suddenly and…what happened Steve.”

“Nothing. She’s been fine this whole time. It happened a while ago so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Wait how long has she been back from her mission.”

“Two weeks.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that!” He was getting antsy, wishing this car of his would go any faster.

“I assumed she had already called you. She usually did after every mission but… I’ll go check up on her for you if you want. Let her know you called.”

“I’m already on my way over. Just let me know if she does anything else.”

______

He doesn’t remember how long he stayed out there talking to you. It was more you talking to him. How training went that day, A new movie that had come out that week, Peter coming to you for advice on asking someone out. A dream you had.

He couldn’t help but glance at your arm as you talked. Covered with long sleeves but he knew the scar was still there. Long and jagged, running from your forearm to your wrist. Slowly fading but still ever present. He felt your hand lift his chin up to meet your eyes again.

“Don’t even think of feeling guilty right now.” You teased, but your face showed nothing but sincerity. He gripped the railing tightly and it looked like he wanted to say something, but the words weren’t coming out.

He couldn’t. Not that.

“Do you remember the first time you stayed the night?” You took your hand away and watched him stare off into the distance. “ I felt trapped in my own head, in my memories. I wasn't leaving my room.”

“We share a wall. I could always hear when your nightmares got bad, but Steve was always there for you. But he was gone one day and I… I couldn’t just leave you to deal with that on your own.” Your voice turned to a whisper. Reminiscing on what you two once had. The quiet moments together. Why he stopped them, you only somewhat understood.

______

An hour felt like ten, and the full drive felt like an eternity later. When he reached the tower the sky was now dark, but he didn’t care. It had been far too long since he had been back.

He had Steve talk him through what could have happened.

“It must have been something that happened on her mission, but I can’t pick out anything weird, besides the fact that she insisted on taking this one alone.”

It was a stakeout. Suspicions of an arms deal going on. The plan was for you to just find out who was involved. Collect any information you can. You always sounded bored whenever you talked about it and gave Steve updates.

“Wait, why did she insist on going alone. Those take forever and I doubt she got a reasonable amount of sleep if she was by herself.” Bucky at this point was thinking the worst.

“Nothing happened Buck. She gave updates the whole time. I gave her permission to call you, but from the sound of it she never did.” A realization hit him then and there. The first mission he went on with you alone was a stakeout.

He doesn’t remember what the mission was about. All he remembers is two weeks alone with you. The two of you in a hotel room, spying on… he isn’t even sure anymore. All he took away from that time is he was absolutely in love with you. The way you would talk about Wanda’s crush on Vision at the time and how you kept bugging her to say something. Everytime you tried (and failed) to throw popcorn into your mouth.

By the time Bucky arrives at the tower it's almost three in the morning. Alpine sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. Steve is waiting for him in the parking garage. A concerned look on his face.

“She’s locked herself in her room. She won’t talk to me.” Bucky moves Alpine from the carrier to his jacket, and walks with Steve to the elevators to get to the living quarters.

“Is she even still awake? I got here pretty late.” He glanced at the pajama bottoms Steve was wearing.

“Last time I passed by I heard a show playing, she still might have fallen asleep though. Your room is empty if you wanna get some rest.”

“No.” the Elevator opens up to the all too familiar hallway that now you currently reside in. “I wanna see her now, if I can.” if she lets me. Steve simply pats him on the back.

“You planning on staying a while?”

“I guess we’ll see..” The doors close leaving Bucky alone in the dark hallway. He feels stuck in place. It has been so long since he’d seen the tower. He’d forgotten how much he’d miss this place.

He hesitated knocking on your door. The familiar notch in the wood from when you tried to fire one of Clint's bows. He could hear what sounded like a nature documentary softly playing from the other side of the door.

“Friday?” He whispered.

“Welcome back Sergeant Barnes.” The AI called out.

“Is she awake?”

“Agent Y/N is awake at the moment. Would you like me to let her know you’re here?”

“No, no its alright.” Bucky responded. “I can talk to her.”

He continued to just stare at the door, unsure how to start. He looked down to Alpine who simply meowed at him. Her way of saying to ‘get on with it, I’m tired!’

“Alright, alright.” He nervously chuckled before lifting his right hand up. Three delicate knocks rang through the door.

“I’m fine Steve.” He heard your voice for the first time in person again. Muffled and clearly annoyed, but still perfectly you.

“ Y/n? It's Bucky. Can you please open the door.” The documentary paused. He heard the slight squeaking of a bed and footsteps padding over to the door, till he heard your voice loud and clear.

“What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be in Indiana.” He was surprised by the coldness in your voice.

“What’s going on with you. You called and I got worried. Can you please open the door?” He pressed his forehead against the door, trying to get as close to you as possible.

“I never meant to bother you. Please, Bucky, just go home.” There was pain in your voice and your words. Calling somewhere that wasn’t here his home.

“I’m not leaving till you explain what’s going on. What happened that made you call.”

“...I needed to stop relying on you to fix my problems.” You sighed. Maybe you could tell he wouldn’t leave you alone with just that. “It was a nightmare, okay? That’s all. I can deal with those on my own now.”

“ Please let me in. You know I can help with those.” He whispered through the door. He didn’t know you even got nightmares. “How long have they been happening?”

“Why does it matter to you.” You spat. “I’m not letting you in so you can just… go home”

hesitation…. Bucky thought for a moment.

“I have Alpine. You said you wanted to meet her.”

A moment of silence, and then he hears the lock click open.

______

“I’ll miss you. You know that right?”

You stared at the night sky and he couldn’t help but notice how the lights danced in your eyes.

“You can always call.” he replied.

“Do you know… when you’ll come back?” the hesitation in your voice made him suspect you were going to say “if”. The fear he may never come back.

“I’ll be back, doll. If you ever need me just call and I’ll come running.” The idea got both of you to smile.

“I’d never have you do that for me, but I appreciate the thought.” You laughed before turning your head and staring straight into his eyes. “Just promise me. You’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

Both of your feet took control and suddenly you were now facing each other. In both of your eyes you could see a million words trying to escape. Each of you wanting to say something you didn’t think the other would want.

Stay here

Tell me to Stay

Let me spend one last night with you

Please don’t leave me alone

I love you

Just let me love you

It felt like you were inches apart. Miles away from the rest of the world. Your hand rose to rest softly on his cheek. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. The pad of your thumb gliding across his cheek, the scratchy stubble, till it rested right under his bottom lip. His hands resisted the urge to touch you, the fear of somehow hurting you again, but your touch he relished in. He savoured this moment between the two of you, almost too hesitant to take it any further. Those million words slowly bubbling up to the surface. Falling from his eyes to the tip of his tongue. They tasted like salt. You raised your hand up to swipe something from his face.

Tears. No words. Just tears.

You could taste your own words as well.

“Hey Ms. Y/N - oh Sorry!” The sheepish voice that belonged to Peter spoke out and caused the two of you to draw away from each other. The timeless moment broken. Words gone. Words buried once again. You could tell he felt bad for interrupting what seemed to be a private moment between the two of you.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, it's fine. You didn’t interrupt anything. Did you need something kiddo?” You wiped your eyes and tried to look cheerful. Bucky never understood why you had such a soft spot for peter. He talked too much for his liking.

“Tony said you were out here and… He needed to talk to you about something I didn’t really ask uh.” Peter kept glancing at the now brooding man next to you. “happy retirement Mr. Bucky, Sergeant Barnes sir.”

“It's just Bucky,” He grumbled, “And it's not a retirement. It's just… Tony just started calling it that because i'm old.” You noticed the stiffness in his voice so you decided to break the tension.

“Tell Tony I’ll be inside in a second, okay Peter?” He nervously nodded and shuffled back inside. You turned back to face Bucky. He looked down and away from you now.

Miles apart.

“Gotta go back inside, I guess. Don’t stay out too long okay?”

In a brief second of courage you lifted your hand back to his face, and turned to place a quick kiss on his cheek before walking away and leaving him alone again on the balcony. The feeling of your lips lingered on his skin.

You didn’t see him when he left the next morning.

______

You looked just as beautiful as he remembered. Unbrushed hair and wrinkly t-shirt thrown together with an old pair of sweats. He wanted to wrap himself up in your touch, in your scent, but your eyes gave off a tired and standoffish look. Eyebrows scrunched together. This wasn’t the time, yet.

“Where is she.” You asked. Bucky unzipped his jacket slightly and peeled away one side to reveal a little puff of fur. The door opened wider and you stepped aside to let him in. He took a seat on your bed and let Alpine out to walk around. You sat down and alpine walked over and rubbed her face on your hand.

“Cute..”

“Yeah, she is. There's no cat food in the tower, right? I left in a rush and-”

“Bucky.” you raised a brow at him.

“Right, sorry.” He studied your expression, waiting for you to start.

“Can I ask you something, Bucky?”

“Anything.”

“Am I the reason you left?” Your question left him bewildered.

“Where’d you get that idea?”

“It's just,” you started, “we were so close, and I know I pushed your boundaries a little more than the others, but you seemed okay with it. You even pushed things further so I thought we were on the same page. But after-” you turn your arm to show what's now only a faint line running down your arm, “ -this I, I don’t know. You didn’t just step back, you pushed away. You didn’t even look at me for weeks and then suddenly you say that you're leaving and I-”

Tears spring from your eyes. The million words too much. Bucky grabs your hands and uses his thumbs to rub small circles into your wrists.

The night was one clearly neither of you had forgotten. You had just come back from a mission with Steve and went to Bucky’s room to surprise him, only to find he was having another nightmare. You attempted to wake him up, were met with a sharp pain in your arm. The both of you were too stunned by each other's actions to immediately notice the knife in Bucky’s hand and the stream of blood gushing down your arm and staining his sheets.

You never held it against him, but he clearly did.

“It was a rash decision.” He says, “ I care about you so much, you know that… or I hope you do, but after,” he felt his million words bubbling to the surface again, “After I hurt you, I got scared. I was afraid of making things worse and I didn’t even realize I already had. I left to try and figure myself out. After the first week I knew it wasn’t my thing. I was honestly gonna come right back, but you sounded so happy when you called and, I started to think you’d be better off without me.” His voice grew softer with every word.

“What about your neighbors, meditation. You said you were getting better sleep.”

“Mostly lies. The Nightmares just have become more manageable with time, and I don’t need to leave just to sit on the floor in silence. The only good thing to come from this is Alpine.” he admitted and you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“At the party, before you left. You said to ask and you’d come back. There were so many times I thought about it, but you’d talk about how much better you were doing-”

“All lies, doll. Sorry.”

“ - I thought you were better off without me.” he tugs you forward and you let yourself fall into his embrace. You feel each other relax in each other's touch. He rested his chin on the top of your head for a second before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.” You feel his lips move against your skin. “But I’m not leaving you again. Not ever.” You pulled away just to see his face.

“You’re not going back?” He tucked his head into your hair to muffle his laugh.

“Indiana sucks, I’m here to stay, promise. Besides, you said you had nightmares, right. I’m not just gonna leave you to deal with that on your own.”

He leaned over to kiss your tears away causing you to laugh at the feeling. You lifted your head to meet his lips with your own, and for a second the two of you forget the rest of the world exists. You can taste salt from each other’s tears and he feels himself smiling into the kiss, hands going up to cradle your face when suddenly you both hear a Meow.

Pulling away the two of you watch Alpine nudge your thigh as if to say ‘It's my turn for attention!’ The two of you smiling and crying and holding in a fit of giggles as your stare at the little puff of fur meowing at you and clawing at the sheets.

As the laughter and meowing died down, so did your energy, and the two of you settled into bed. It was almost as it was before. His arms wrapped around you. your head delicately tucked into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around his waist. A small fur ball settled at the foot of the bed. With the promise of a million more words, and a million more nights together.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #writing prompt #kas9kwc #the avengers #endings are weird

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