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appocalipse · 10 months ago

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MAKE IT EASY : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2 ❥・3.8k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

requested by my beloved @stevebabey 🥺

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble, and now, oh well...I had to split it into two parts. here we go.

・❥・

It was the epitome of a terrible idea.

And it had started that day.

The very moment Steve walked into the diner your family owned, you knew something was wrong. Not that it was uncommon for Steve to visit you at work — not at all. In fact, it was almost a weekly occurrence, the highlight of it, in fact, for you; the odd part was that Steve never showed up alone, without at least a few of the kids. On that Wednesday night, he was not only alone but also strangely nervous.

You rarely saw Steve get nervous. His confidence was as much a part of him as his signature perfect hair. But tonight, his hands fidgeted with the edge of his jacket, eyes darting around the diner as if searching for an escape route. He looked like he was trying to convince himself to leave.

Weird.

"Steve," you greeted him with a warm smile, hoping to ease his obvious tension a little bit as he approached the counter. "You look like you've seen a Demogorgon."

It was supposed to be a joke. You only felt comfortable saying that now because — luckily — things had been quiet at Hawkins. It had been a long time since you and your friends had to deal with one. But something about Steve's demeanor really made you wonder if there was more to this visit than just a friendly catch-up.

He tried for a convincing chuckle, but it came out tinged with a hint of sadness instead. "I wish," he said, and then quickly shook his head, "Actually no, of course not. I kinda…There's something I wanted to-"

You furrowed your brows, concern knitting your features together. At this point, Steve's tension seemed to be rubbing off on you.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, just…can we talk?"

"Of course."

He glanced around the diner, gaze briefly flitting over the empty tables and the neon glow of the jukebox. "Not here," he murmured, voice barely audible above the din of conversation and clinking dishes. It was a busy night, despite being Wednesday. "Can you, like, take a break?"

For Steve, of course you could.

Curiosity mingled with concern, and you followed his lead, stepping out into the cool night air. The streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting elongated shadows that danced upon the pavement. You leaned against the side of the building, your eyes fixed on Steve, awaiting an explanation for his beyond unusual behavior.

He raked his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit that seemed magnified in this moment. "Look," he began, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you hadn't heard before, "I need a favor- a big one."

Oh, Jesus. "Steve," you placed a hand over your chest, breathing a sigh of relief. "For a moment there I thought you were going to say something terrible. A favor? C'mon, sure. What do you want me to do?"

Steve's eyes met yours, his gaze earnest and…vulnerable?

"I... I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend... Just for one night!" he quickly added, like he was afraid you might misinterpret his request, say no even before he could finish… but no, of course you wouldn't. Far from it.

Who wouldn't want to date Steve Harrington?

"But why would you-"

"My parents," Steve interjected, tone deeply tinged with unease, "they're in town."

"Oh." Steve rarely ever spoke about his parents, and their mere presence seemed to have stirred a sense of apprehension within him. "Are they still... difficult?"

You knew you were touching scars, deep scars. You made sure to be gentle.

Steve sighed, gaze fixed on the ground.

"Yeah, you could say that," a hint of frustration colored his voice, as if he were carrying on his shoulders the weight of every little judgemental glare they had ever sent his way. "Nothing I do is ever enough for them. They've always been focused on money and success. To them, that's the measure of worth. And because I don't fit their mold of the perfect, ambitious son, they treat me like…well, you know how they treat me."

Indeed, you knew.

Steve looked like he didn't know you were unable to say no to him.

And that's how you put yourself into one hell of a mess.

It's Saturday night and you're standing in front of the mirror, desperately trying to zip up your stupid dress. Why anyone would put a zipper in the back of a dress, in the most difficult possible place for a person to reach on their own, is something you are unable to fathom.

But then again, maybe you're the stupid one in this story, you think bitterly, since it was you who chose the dress with the zipper in the back in the first place.

Why are you trying so hard, though?

"I'm not," you tell yourself out loud, stubbornly.

There is a big pile of discarded clothes on your bed that says otherwise.

With a feeling akin to fear bubbling in your stomach, you glance at the clock. It's almost seven. For fuck's sake.

You're late.

Steve will arrive soon, and you are apparently unable to close the damn zipper of your own dress, no matter in which awkward positions you try twisting yourself into…you just can't reach it.

The doorbell rings.

The world is truly a dark place, isn't it?

You freeze. It can only be Steve. Shit, shit, shit! For a moment, you consider the idea of simply not opening the door, turning off the lights and pretending you never agreed to take part in this madness that is dining with the Harringtons.

HA! As if you'd really be able to turn your back on Steve.

You take a deep breath, accepting the battle you just lost, and decide that your only and best option is to simply open the door and ask Steve for help — mortified or not. With no choice but to leave the dress with the zipper still open and your back somewhat exposed, you quickly walk to the door to open it.

"Sorry, I'm late," you say, a little out of breath. "I had a little problem with the dress and I... flowers?"

Flowers, for sure. Steve holds a beautiful bouquet of red roses. He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes run over the partly open dress and your exposed skin for a couple of seconds too long to be accidental. You swallow thickly.

"Yeah I..." he shakes his head, a little uncomfortable standing there, and then his eyes meet yours. "The flowers are for you. Do you want me to...?" he mimics the motion of closing a zipper.

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but there is no choice but to accept. You look at him, a mix of gratitude and nervousness in your eyes.

"Yeah, that would be great," you reply, stumbling over the words.

If he notices, he doesn't say anything.

Steve comes closer and hands you the bouquet, your fingers briefly touching his. You catch a whiff of his cologne — citrusy fruit and wood notes — as you turn around, brushing your hair away from your neck.

For a moment, Steve does nothing, and you wonder if he is just figuring out the best way to close the zipper…or something else entirely.

His touch ghosts down your bare back before his hand finally, finally finds the zipper. Slowly, he pulls it up, inch by inch, and you hold your breath for a moment, lost in a feeling your best friend is definitely not supposed to evoke in you. You feel the dress tighten, fabric adjusting to your body, his fingers inevitably brushing your skin and sending unexpected tingles up your spine. You try to ignore the trail of electricity left by the tip of his fingers as you turn to face him, eyes finding his.

"There you go", he murmurs, taking his hands off you and taking a small step back. "You look very... girlfriend."

You laugh.

"Thank you", you say softly, your heart beating faster. "You also look very boyfriend."

A small smile plays on Steve's lips, a flush creeping up his cheeks. Or maybe it's just the cold night breeze coming through the open door...

Steve's gaze drifts to your lips and lingers there for way too long to be accidental. He is so close that he starts crushing the bouquet between the two of you…

Something clicks inside of you. Common sense, perhaps.

"Thank you... for the flowers."

The spell breaks; he moves away so fast that you almost drop the flowers on the floor.

"Yeah, uh, no problem," he says quickly, regaining his composure. "Ready to go?"

Disappointment stabs at you, but you try to hide it. Maybe you imagined too much, read signs where there were none.

"Sure. I'll just put the flowers in a vase."

It's an excuse to catch your breath. You walk to the kitchen, put water in the first clean container you find and put the flowers in it. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Your heart is racing and yet nothing has happened. It's just dinner, you tell yourself, I've had dinner with Steve and the others before. It's just dinner.

So why did you try so hard to look beautiful? insists the other voice in your mind. You decide it's best not to answer.

"You okay?"

Steve is at the kitchen door, all concern and soft brown eyes. You must have taken too long.

"Yes, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile to calm your own anxiety. "I was just taking care of the flowers. Ready to go?"

Steve nods. A gentleman, he opens the car door for you to get in. It's a short drive to the Harrington house, and you take the opportunity to try to calm your nerves. Looking out the window, you watch the city lights blinking as you approach your destination.

You look at him. You have the impression that Steve is driving slightly slower than necessary.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, unsure.

Steve briefly glances at you before returning his attention to the road, looking so stiff you're under the impression he might break his back at any moment.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend? I mean, I understand the part about your parents…but why didn't you bring someone you're actually dating or something?"

There's a brief moment of silence before Steve responds, his voice a bit softer.

"Actually, I'm not really dating anyone at the moment," he admits. "And when my parents mentioned the dinner, I kind of panicked. I didn't want to show up alone and face more questions about my life, you know?"

"I know," you respond, understandingly. "And why did you choose me specifically?"

He looks away for a moment before answering.

"Because you're perfect," he says, finally looking back at you. Then quickly, as if he only just realized the words slipped out on their own, he adds, nervously staring back at the road, "I mean, my parents, they... you're perfect for them. They're going to love you."

You feel a mix of surprise, satisfaction, and confusion with Steve's response. You try not to read any deeper meaning behind the words, telling yourself not to notice how he quickly tries to disguise them.

"I see," you reply, although you don't really understand anything. Steve seems to say one thing when he means another. "Well, I hope I can do well. I mean, I'm not very convincing when I lie."

Steve smiles briefly and nods.

"I'm sure you'll be great. Just... be yourself."

You appreciate Steve's vote of confidence and focus on staying calm as the car approaches the Harringtons' house. Although there's still a lingering questioning in your mind about Steve's earlier response, you decide to set it aside for now and focus on the immediate task.

Steve parks the car, and you both step out together. Nervousness returns as you approach the front door. You exchange a quick glance with Steve, seeking mutual encouragement.

As you walk toward the house's entrance, Steve's hand finds yours. He gently squeezes it, and you're not sure if he's trying to convey or seek comfort himself. You don't mind anyway.

The door opens, revealing Steve's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. As you prepare to enter their house, they cast evaluative glances your way, as you had expected. Mrs. Harrington's smile seems a bit forced, while Mr. Harrington maintains a serious expression you can't even begin to try to read.

It's not like you expected anything different.

"Mom," says Steve in lieu of a greeting. "Dad."

"Steve, you finally made it," says Mrs. Harrington, her tone somehow a mix of relief and disapproval. "And this must be your... girlfriend."

Steve maintains his composure as he introduces you, although you can sense a slight tension in his shoulders. It's only when he says your last name that Steve's parents' gazes turn into something completely different, almost a scientific interest.

Hawkins is a small place. Your parents' business is respected enough in town.

All eyes turn to you, and you try not to show the insecurity you feel inside. Mr. Harrington studies you for a moment, his penetrating gaze seeming to assess your suitability for his son.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mr. Harrington," he finally says, extending an unusually large hand for a formal greeting.

You shake his hand firmly, trying to convey a confidence you're not quite sure you feel. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Harrington. Thank you for the invitation."

Mrs. Harrington still seems a bit unsettled but composes herself as she invites you inside. You're making your way toward the dining room when you feel Steve's hand intertwine with yours again, and when your gaze meets his, he's smiling.

Thank you, he mouths.

You smile back.

During dinner, you make an effort to be as pleasant and interesting as you can possibly be in the eyes of Steve's parents, responding politely and trying to find points of common interest. In turn, Steve makes an effort to showcase his worth, defending his accomplishments, however small and sharing his plans for the future, painting an image of maturity that, you can tell by the look in his parents' eyes, they were not expecting.

Throughout the evening, you realize that although Steve's parents are demanding and neglectful in many aspects, they also seem to have their own insecurities and concerns. They want the best for Steve, even if their way of expressing it is at least…unusual.

As the night progresses, you find yourself navigating this strange family dynamic better and better, to the point where Steve's parents' attention is fully on you, and it doesn't even feel that uncomfortable anymore. You even laugh at one point.

By the end of the dinner, as you two prepare to leave, you notice a very similar expression of relief on the faces of Steve's parents. They seem to have found some kind of approval in the way you both behaved together during the evening.

As you say goodbye, Mr. Harrington extends his hand again, but this time, his handshake is warmer, less formal, and Mrs. Harrington's smile almost seems genuine. Almost.

"It was a pleasure having you here," she says. "You should bring her more often, Steve."

You and Steve exchange a look of surprise. Had you somehow managed to create a connection with his parents?

As you walk away from the Harringtons' house, Steve's hand finds yours for the third time that night, and an optimistic part of you registers the fact that there's no one else here to see. He gently squeezes it, his brown eyes filled with gratitude when they meet yours.

"You were amazing," he says, genuinely smiling.

In the car, during the ride back, you both talk animatedly about the night and his parents' reactions. The tension from dinner seems to have diminished, leaving you both more relaxed and confident.

When you arrive in front of your house, Steve turns off the car and gets out to accompany you to the front door, even after you— out of politeness, mind you — said it's really not necessary.

"You know, I didn't expect everything to go so well tonight," says Steve, with a playful smile. "I can't believe I'm saying this about a dinner with my parents, but thanks to you, it was even fun."

You laugh. "I kinda had fun too. I think we did better than we thought possible."

"You're amazing," he says again, and this time his voice carries a softer, more intimate tone. His eyes meet yours, shining, and you see admiration there…maybe, you dare to think, something even deeper.

The silence grows tense. Your heart races. There's something special happening between you, you know there is; this goes beyond mere friendship or pretending to be a couple for one night…doesn't it?

Are you imagining this?

"Steve..."

You can't finish before he's leaning in slowly, and you're almost certain his eyes are fixed on your lips. For a feverish moment, you think Steve is going to kiss you.

He tilts his head last second. You feel the softness of his lips brushing against your cheek a moment later, a light and brief kiss, mouth almost uncertain against your warm skin….and then it's over.

Steve pulls back slowly.

"Goodnight," he says, eyes soft, smile softer. "Thank you…for today."

"You're welcome."

It's only when you enter the house that the dress dilemma comes to mind.

Well…shit.

The zipper at the back is still unreachable for you, and you can't undo it yourself unless you use scissors — which, considering the price you paid for it, you really don't want to do.

With few options and too much embarrassment, you decide to call Steve back while you still can.

"Steve?" you practically shout, your embarrassment immediately doubling. He's about to open the door of his trusted BMW when he turns to you, confused and unfairly handsome under the street light.

Suddenly using the scissors on the dress doesn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Well, too late.

"Could you, you know... " you ask, gesturing to the back of your dress, "help me with the zipper?"

His initial surprise quickly gives way to a nervous smile.

"Sure. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't help?"

"I'm sure that's one of the many job duties."

"Definitely. And I strive to be a top-notch fake boyfriend."

He steps in. With the door closed behind the two of you, the atmosphere takes on a sense of intimacy and anticipation.

"I really can't reach the zipper," you feel the need to explain, even more flustered by his silence.

"No problem," Steve says with that gentle tone that makes your heart do funny things inside your chest. "Turn around."

You turn so that he can reach the dress' zipper, and now you're facing the large oval mirror in the hallway, with Steve standing right behind you.

He reaches out gently, his fingers lightly brushing the back of your dress.

Breathe in.

The temperature around you seems to rise a few degrees.

Breath out.

You feel the gentle pressure of his fingers as he starts to slide the zipper down. He touches your skin and you tell yourself that this is inevitable, that he didn't mean to…but he lingers. Lingers just enough for you to tense up and let out a breathless sigh you certainly didn't intend to.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, his voice soft, filled with concern. You know he's looking at you through the mirror and that's precisely why you keep your gaze on the floor. "Are my fingers cold?"

"No, your fingers..." your voice sounds hoarse. You clear your throat. "...it's fine, I'm okay."

I'm great. I'm more than okay. Nothing out of the ordinary happening here.

However, when the zipper seems to momentarily get stuck — because of course it had to — the two of you exchange equally panicked looks through the mirror, though perhaps for different reasons. An uncomfortable silence fills the air as Steve tries to fix the issue.

"I'm... it's just... sorry, it seems to be stuck."

There's a moment of awkward silence as he tries to figure out a way to open the zipper. You can feel the tension in the air as he struggles to handle the situation.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" you joke, desperately trying to ease the tension.

Steve lets out a low laugh, his warm breath gently caressing your neck.

"Absolutely," he replies, his voice slightly husky. Then, probably without so much as noticing, he adds, "I've taken off many dresses before."

Oh.

"Steve-"

Steve doesn't give up. With skilled fingers, he adjusts the position of the zipper and makes another attempt. It moves.

"We're almost there," he murmurs softly, his voice close to your ear.

Finally, with a smooth motion, the zipper gives way, sliding all the way down. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you turn around to face Steve, finding his eyes filled with excitement.

"I did it!"

His enthusiastic smile soon gives way to something else as he realizes how close — and technically partly undressed — you are.

And close you are, so very close. Close enough that you and Steve are somehow breathing the same air now.

Close enough, you realize, that a slight tilt of the head and...you'd be kissing.

Kissing.

Did he notice that too?

You hold your dress up over your chest to make sure it doesn't fall because, well…no matter how distracted you are, it's not enough that you'd risk a wardrobe malfunction that'll leave you standing there naked in front of Steve Harrington.

"...thanks," you manage a whisper, lips a hair's breadth away from his. You do know that Steve has no reason not to go now that dinner is over and everything went (surprisingly) well, but a part of you wonders if maybe…

Steve's hands hover around your waist as if unsure of what to do next.

So close...

You hold still.

In that breathless silence, you're under the impression that Steve leans closer, even if just the slightest bit, maybe without even noticing.

"Steve…" you slowly tilt your head to the side.

Steve's heart is pounding in his chest as he feels the warmth of your breath against his lips. Stop, he thinks. His eyes flutter closed, and Steve can't help but lean in just a little bit more.

He raises his arm as if to touch you, wanting to touch you, to hold your face, to bring you closer…but he stops with one of his hands hovering near your cheek.

He pulls away with a gasp, his hands flying up to his face in shock. "I should-" he stammers. "I need to go."

Bam.

Door closed.

And just like that, he's out of the house before you can even open your eyes properly.

He just…pulled away.

What the hell was that?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

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catboyieejeno · 11 months ago

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.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: soft dom! mingyu x slight pillow princess! reader, fem! reader, pwp, oral (fem and male receiving), slight overstimulation, praise, mentions of cum, npr

18+ minors do not interact !

boyfriend! mingyu who is completely obsessed with burying his face in your sopping cunt until your fingers are weaved between his locks and you’re coming multiple times in a row. he won’t let up, not because he’s being mean or punishing you with overstimulation—although occasionally, that is the case—but because you, his sweet, pretty girl, deserves nothing less than his tongue lapping restlessly at your folds. It’s embarrassingly easy for him to get pussy-drunk, grinding himself into the bed as he goes down on you for well over an hour. By the time you plead out desperately for his cock, he’s already left a thick puddle of his cum on the spot in the bed he was fucking his length into.

kim mingyu is a simple man of simple pleasures, some of which include your cries and sputters, your trembling thighs and heavy pants, and the infrequent, though appreciated, indiscernible blabbers of praise you manage to let out through drooling lips. when you can actually manage to form words, that is.

you are his pillow princess, whether you bestowed that title upon yourself or not. The chances of you going down on him? slim. giving him head is a rare occurrence; in fact, you’d have to beg him to let you try, plead with him to stuff his considerably large length down your throat. you’d have to convince him you need him there so bad, that you want him to feel just as good as he makes you feel, but even then, his responses are rehearsed.

“but baby, i don’t need all that, let me treat you instead,”

“‘wanna do all the work for you, honey. you deserve it.”

“you really want me to fill your mouth up baby? first you have to come twice on my tongue,”

“I’d rather come in you, sweet girl.”

“s’too big for your pretty little mouth, don’ wanna hurt you,”

at first, you thought he didn’t want you to give him head at all, or that he assumed you would be bad at it. But, when you finally begged enough, your pretty boy caved and it became apparent very quickly why he was holding off for so long. from the moment he lays back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other pressing his thumb onto your swirling tongue, he knows he’s done for. watching you crawl over him, leaving kisses and licking stripes as you make your way down his torso, makes his pre-cum leak freely from his flushed tip.

mingyu has his lip caught between his teeth, eyes glossed over in a haze. the very moment your velvety lips wrap around his head, he’s groaning out, arms and legs dropping limply onto the mattress. you have absolute power over him in that moment, and both of you are very, very aware of that. all of your insecurities dissipate as you realize he’s falling apart, melting like putty in your hands. his chest that previously rose and fell calmly is now puffing up with air he pushes out through his nostrils and the noises he’s letting out? other-fucking-wordly.

he eventually regains feeling in his hands and they rotate between holding your throat, your cheek, and simply sliding along the ridges of his abdomen. all the meanwhile, it’s him who chokes up on his words, slurring his speech.

“please, please, please…”

“your mouth feels s’good on me, fuck,”

“doin’ so good, so fucking good, all for me…”

“if you do that again, i’m not gonna last—shit.”

“just like that, yes, baby… oh, god, you’re gonna make me—“

when your tongue swipes deliciously over his tip, he drags out a strangled moan, shooting his hot load into your mouth and down your throat. knees locked, toes curled, and hips bucking up into you, he throws his head back to ride out his orgasm.

a few seconds later, his hands fly to your hair to lift you off, but in a small act of defiance for all the times you were overstimulated by him, you grab his wrists and pin them at his sides. he lets you do this because it’s so, so fucking hot to watch you have a sliver of control for once—both of you are well aware he could overpower you if he wanted to. instead, though, he laces his fingers with yours and takes what you give him like the good boy he is. it takes less than ten minutes for him to come each and every time you give him head going forward but thankfully, his stamina doesn’t betray him. he recovers while he returns the favor, devouring you and drinking up your juices as his cock that never fully softened, swells up all over again.

⋆ ★

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kooberryfields4ever · 4 months ago

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hehe😏😏 what did i say😏😏 finally posting this after more than half a year of abandoning the idea!!!!!!!! as a long time jungkooker i have observed his mannerisms for a while and i think my delusions will guide me down the right path <333 please let me know ur thoughts and as always my asks/requests are very much open to both hard and soft thoughts!!!!!! 🥺

content warnings : nsfw below the cut, handjobs, jerking off, mentions of oral, mentions of cumming inside, unprotected sex, protected sex, boobs, yadda yadda its the nsfw alphabet what do u expect😒

MDNI !

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the sweetest <3333

cannot imagine jungkook being anything but attentive and romantic when he tends to u after sex

also cant see him as too dominant or rough during sex so aftercare is probably just kisses cuddles and pillow talk

maybe some boob groping because he cannot help himself

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

do i even need to say it

boobs, boobies, tits, honkers, knockers, breasts etc

LOVES UR TITS. like i do not care what anybody says jungkook is a titty lover, a boobie connoisseur

likes to just hold them because he is gentle and lovely and ur boobs are his home

wants them in his mouth almost all of the time

favourite part of him is probs his arms

very proud of his muscles and very very attracted to the way u seem addicted to them

loves when u dig ur nails into them when he fucks u

also loves when u get overwhelmed with cuteness aggression and feel the need to bite him and gnaw on his arm like a teething toy

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

clean boy

i dont think hes all too feral about doing it inside but if ur fucking raw then inside is the cleanest option for him

first man on earth to… prefer a condom?

of course fucking u raw is his absolute pleasure but he likes the quick and easy cleanup a condom provides

on the off chance jungkook likes to get messy :) if hes in that mood expect cum on ur face, tits or on ur pussy

not an absolutely rare occurrence just not entirely common

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

did u guys expect me to say anything but panty lover

likes them all but especially cute cotton ones that are well loved <3

ones with a little bow and a subtle lace trim

maybe the pattern is somewhat childish but that makes them all the more endearing to him

if he sees u wearing them TRUST he will be in a messy mood. he cant help himself

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

pains me to admit but jungkook gets bitches😥😥

maybe not drowning in pussy, we’ve all seen the singular neck pillow on his bed

just cannot imagine a world where jungkook looks the way he looks and doesnt fuck?????? that is a world i quite frankly dont want to live in if so.

been in the industry long enough to know how to get around dispatch rumours, also hybe/bh paying off major drama media companies lolol

i think hes had enough sex to know what he likes but jungkook is a romantic at heart and i truly believe if he found The One we would know about it

so i think theres some things unexplored bc theyre things he wants to experience with the love of his life<333

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary

DONT YAWN.

just likes seeing ur face and also likes to display his strength and hold ur hips up so he can fuck u deeper

also likes that he can see when u grip onto his arms and if he really wants to he can duck his head down and bury his face in ur tits

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

yeah jk gets goofy asf

cannot imagine serious sex with him really i think hes immune to being serious ever

even if it gets a little more serious at some point there will always be a joke or a giggle inserted somewhere between

he cannot help himself sorry.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

jungkook my lovely clean boy <33

not completely razor shaven but trims regularly and keeps it neat

not a fan of stray pubes and whatnot. thinks its unhygienic

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

despite his goofy silly boy nature i think jungkook is incredibly intimate

likes to be slow and likes drawn out foreplay

this is jungkook we’re talking about……. lover of romance and soulmates and close bonds

needs to be practically combined with u when u fuck, never feels like he gets deep enough

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

dont think hes a big fan of jerking it honestly

at least not alone

loves a bit of mutual masturbation i reckon so if he does need to wank best believe he’s either calling u or texting u

its always better when hes right there with u tho, with u straddling his lap while he strokes himself and watches u get off on his thigh

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

hehe praise

for u or for him. doesnt matter

will get into this in a sec but jk dabbles in submission so expect whimpers and moans when u tell him what a good boy he is and goad him on when hes following instructions well

loves whispering how pretty u are and reminding u how much he loves u and loves ur body and thinks ur the most gorgeous person in the world

atp its just him. like i dont think he could stop himself i think he gets off on praising u

lazy sub when he does sub for u :)

less about being in the mood to sub and more about not being in the mood to do anything else

wants u to do the work and likes if u get a little mean about it

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the couch lol

jungkook is one of those people thats just very passionate and when hes horny it needs to happen there and then

so i just cant picture u making it to his bed fast enough for his liking

his couch is big enough anyway

but make no mistake…….. morning sex

therefore beds!!!!!!!! loves fucking u in the morning because it feels so domestic and intimate and lovely and therefore loves fucking u in his bed

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

not much

libra venus lol

but its usually just from his need to be close to u and whats closer than being literally inside of u

just a lovely boy …. :( would probs get so hard just seeing u look pretty on the couch next to him while u watch tv

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

degradation probably

not a fan of being mean to u outside of a little teasing

none of that “slut”, “bitch”, “whore” business

id also say hitting but i think jungkook could get into a bit of that if the circumstances are right

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i think he prefers receiving but isnt against eating u out

doesnt even like getting head much himself

prefers a handjob the same way he would prefer to finger u

dont think hes bad at it tho. knows the basics and primarily uses it as foreplay so orgasm is not always necessary

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both?

depends on his mood and the circumstances in which he is fucking u

mostly slow and sensual though, maybe a mix between if he’s close

hehehe…….. probs doesnt even pull out too far when he fucks u, just wants to stay buried in u so he prefers rolling his hips slowly and grinding into u

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not opposed to them but not his favourite

prefers when foreplay lasts forever to the point that ur both basically about to cum

but quickies are sometimes unavoidable :/

will make up for it later :)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i dont think so …… i dont think hes a scaredy cat but hes very cautious of things that may hurt u or that may cause harm

like probably not a very public lover aside from basic pda (he has to show u off????)

would cover ur mouth to keep u quiet when he lived in the dorms

i think hed be too embarrassed if he got caught fucking, hes cute not arrogant

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i think jungkook can go for a while and i think he can hold out for longer than most

enjoys taking his time with u and that of course would not work if he was desperate to cum five minutes in

i also think … he … .. perh aps…,.., enjoys being overstimulated…,,??

so cumming more than once :) is fun :)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ermmm probably not?

likes the real thing and doesnt like the noises

would maybe invest in a hitachi for u but cant think of anything he would use on himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

not very unfair, likes to give in to u cos it shows u want him that bad and thats what gets him going

however

if jungkooks feeling submissive then yes please tease him

be mean and make him beg

and even still dont give in :)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

moaner

like come on ? its jungkook we’re talking about

if he didnt moan id be seriously worried .

not necessarily loud, but u can definitely hear him from outside the door

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

can imagine him getting home after a long day and hes been thinking about u but cannot be bothered to move from the couch

and u look so pretty beside him so (because hes a baby) he reaches out to touch ur thigh and whines a little

maybe even pouts because hes such a massive tease

and who are u to deny him ? when he looks so pretty and u know he just wants u to look after him

and so u climb into his lap and straddle him…… and his hands roam over your hips and ass absentmindedly

and when ur kissing ur hand trails lower and lower until ur palming him over the fabric of his sweats and building him up until hes rock hard

whispering that he has to be a good boy for u or else he wont get rewarded, and obviously he nods because he loves being ur good boy

but his hands wander a bit too much for ur liking and so u bite his lower lip and spank his hip gently before sneaking ur hand past the waistband of his sweats and underwear to grip his length

and of course hes dripping, how wouldnt he be ??

so u indulge him and spread his precum down his cock before stroking him slowly, nudging his clothes down to get a better look

and hes so fucked out that his head tips backwards, his wandering hands gripping your hips firmly

and despite the mess, hes delicate when he cums, spilling over his shirt and moaning softly, thanking u with sweet murmurs and a gentle hand rubbing ur thigh

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

self-identified horse cock

just kidding but i think hes a little bigger than average

probs more on the girth side than anything else

i dont think its anything extreme, i think its enough for u to notice but nothing that will carve out ur insides

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think sex is an expression of his love language a little so i think he has a higher sex drive

but not in a horny ggrrrr ooga booga woof woof way but in a please can i just be inside u forever and make a home within ur walls way

will probs want sex more often than ur average guy but its never pressure its more just like a natural progression of cuddling and being around him

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

probably not gonna fall asleep for a while after

if hes subbing then maybe sooner than any other times u have sex

but mostly when its over he will stay up to shower and eat and maybe play some games before he falls asleep

#koob navi #koob thoughts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #reader x jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook x oc #jungkook hard thoughts #jungkook hard hours #jungkook soft hours #jungkook soft thoughts #jungkook #yn x jungkook #bts hard hours #bts hard thoughts

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thesunisatangerine · 7 months ago

Text

playing for keeps – chapter three

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: coarse language, light angst

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]

word count: 8.8k

[1]

Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change.

While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.

During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting.

In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny.

Or at least that was how you liked to look at it.

Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.

[2]

The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect.

The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.

“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.

“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.

But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”

Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet.

“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it.

You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession.

As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”

When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places.

She looked adorable.

You bit your tongue before you could say it.

Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.”

The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go.

“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.”

At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much. So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”

Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”

Your mother’s shout cut through the air.

“Honey? Guille is here for you!”

You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance.

“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!”

And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.

“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”

In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.

“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”

“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps.

“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly.

When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

He let out a strained, “Yes.”

You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag.

“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”

Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”

The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.

You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.

“Here.”

Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”

Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside.

A new pair of keeper gloves.

“Guille, you didn’t have to!”

He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”

“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away.

“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them.

You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”

He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”

You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out.

“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”

“Is this alright?”

Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same.

You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”

“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”

Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.

“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side.

“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”

“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”

“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again.

This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you.

They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.

And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering.

Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.”

While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.”

And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more.

And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats.

At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”

Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.

Maybe you should’ve told her after all…

Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.”

Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again.

“Have you told Alejandro about this?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”

“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over you three.

You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.

Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.

The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves.

It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.

You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.

Oh, no. What was it now?

You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.

“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”

“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”

“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”

“You don’t know that!”

That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”

Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.

“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”

[3]

Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.

After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.

Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door.

The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.

Okay. That was fair.

“Ale,” you said softly.

She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands.

“Alexia, come on.”

Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on.

You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.

“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.”

Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.

You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”

“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.

“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”

Oh. So that was what this was about.

“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”

“Then why did you tell him that?”

“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”

“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.

You blinked at her.

There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?

At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear.

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”

Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”

A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.

“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”

You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”

[4]

“—you okay?”

You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”

She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.

“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”

You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.

You sighed, blinking the memory away.

“Guille asked me out.”

The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions.

“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room.

“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.

“Are you okay, girls?”

“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.

“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.”

Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her.

The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?”

“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?

“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want him?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.

“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”

“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.

Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.

In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.

Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.”

[5]

Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut.

The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass.

He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.

A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.

With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.

“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them.

You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay.

She nodded back.

“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.”

Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.

“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”

A collective nodding occurred.

“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.

Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”

“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve.

Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”

Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.

Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille. “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”

“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.

Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”

“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”

“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.

It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.

At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.

Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—

The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.

You slammed to the ground.

Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.

When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.

“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”

“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”

You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting.

And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.

You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.

Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.

Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her.��

“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”

“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her.

You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment.

“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.”

Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”

“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”

Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.

“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”

When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.

“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.”

Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again.

“I promise.”

This time, you believed her.

Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.

“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”

At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.

You liked Alexia.

And, even more importantly, you want her.

[6]

When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.

It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.

For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.

Well, almost.

After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.

“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”

Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.”

She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—

“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.

“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”

“Lies!”

Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”

In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”

“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.

Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”

“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”

You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”

“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.

“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing.

“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.

“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”

Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.

“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”

At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”

You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!”

With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.

“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.

You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”

“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang out with you.”

You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”

“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.

Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?”

“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.

Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?”

“Hey! I’m not—”

“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”

Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.

You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would.

The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.

[7]

The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.

He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night.

His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.

And your chest ached a little.

Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.

Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.

“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”

A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”

“No, it’s just me here.”

“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”

The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.

“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.

His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.

“She still doesn’t know.”

Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.

“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.

“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.

Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”

And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”

“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She loves you.”

A pause.

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.

“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.

“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.”

“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”

“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”

With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.

“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”

You choked on your words.

After all this time, it was still too painful.

Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.

“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”

You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.

Guille kept quiet, too.

The both of you knew just the reason why.

[8]

“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in.

Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”

You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you.

Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.

“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”

“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”

He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Jona blinked at you.

Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”

“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”

Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again.

“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”

“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.

“Use me.”

#ap11 #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #my writing #a/n: i'm just gonna drop this here lol #im really sorry for the very very very late update #had no time lately and after losing the first draft for this (8k words down the drain) my motivation kind of just fell off the cliff #but ive been rewriting this on the go for the past month or so so please forgive me for more grammar and spelling mistakes than usual #also im kinda jetlagged and sick atm so im planning to get to your messages as soon as i get my bearings back <3 #i hope youre all doing well and thank you for reading <3

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charles-leclerizz · 9 months ago

Text

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ flustered tweets

🏁 Pairings : Max Verstappen X fem!Reader

🏁 Warnings : suggestive sexual themes, touching, kissing, licking etc. no explicit content, swearing, Daniel Ricciardo being a menace.

🏁 Word Count : 3.3k words (3352 words)

🏁 Author's note : First suggestive conntent on this blog! woo-hoo, light the fireworks. But I do hope you enjoy and as always please leave a comment or reblog, since they do fuel my motivation. <3 Note that word dividers are by @cottage-writings and as always, translations are available via radio comm.

🏁 Music player : Love by Lana Del Ray

You smile to yourself as you stare at your television screen, the metallic box was currently projecting your boyfriend’s face, post-race, red faced and sweaty. Positively gorgeous. His blonde hair was mused due to his helmet and droplets of water leaked down from the strands to his forehead, trickling down his temple to his chin where they dripped down to his fire-proofs. It was nearing the end of the interview, and that meant his favourite questions would begin to pop up, the personal ones.

“So Max, how’s the missus doing? Based off her Instagram it looks like you both are very happy.” The man holding the microphone smiled at the driver, who rolled his eyes playfully at the memory of the multitude of stories that you would post by the hour, in fact he was 99% sure that you had posted at least 5 whilst he was in the car.

“Yeah well, it’s a dream being with her, it really feels like I’m on cloud 9.” He gushed, a rare occurrence for the notoriously grumpy man, but as soon as you were brought up in conversation, it was as though he was a wilting sunflower that was just introduced to sunlight, “I’m doing all of this for her.” Max admitted bashfully.

“Well, if that isn’t proof of the it couple on the grid, then I don’t know what is.” The interviewer admitted, grinning at the lovesick expression on your boyfriend’s face, “But before I let you go, the fans were in uproar a few days before the race. Based on a tweet made by a fellow driver on the grid.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if his humorous actions would jog Max’s memory.

You, on the other hand, knew exactly of the tweet Mark, as he introduced himself as, was talking of. It was tweeted by none other than Daniel Ricciardo, the cheeky bastard decided to divulge the fans with a tidbit of information about Max and your sex life.

Just walked into the 2-time WDC and his girlfriend doing it like bunnies. Somehow, this man is never embarrassed.

You remember that day like no-other, it was the moment after the Spanish Grand Prix and Max had just won.

“I’m so proud of you,” You breathed against his lips, holding his face between your palms as your fingers fisted his hair, close enough to the root that he groaned outwardly. The scent of victory wafted from him as one of your hands snaked down between the two of you to unzip his race suit. Allowing you to push him against the hotel room wall and move down to lick thick, wet stripes against his pulse point, revelling in the taste of fresh champagne.

“heilige shit,” he breathed out, gnawing at his bottom lip whilst the hands that rested on your waist tightened and bruised his fingerprints against your skin.

“Geliefde.” Max whispered, bringing his left hand up to grip the nape of your neck and guide your face away from the fifth fresh hickey you were creating on his muscle, towards his own, gazing into your eyes with a heavy stare.

“Yeah?” You answer, blinking rapidly to clear the misty haze that overtook your brain, all you could think of was the delicious way that his suit hung low from his hips and how tight his fireproofs were, exaggerating his muscular pecs that strained against the protective layer.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as you scratched your nails lightly down his scalp towards his thick collar that stuck to his body, “Maxie?” You prompt, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He chuckled at your act, wrapping a large hand around your neck and squeezing gently at the sides, just enough for you to gasp, “What do you think the press will say huh? My girlfriend got too horny watching me win?” He guided you towards the freshly made bed, pushing you down to a sitting position as your knees hit the back of the padded mattress, “It’s okay though, mijn mooie vriendin-“ He paused, moving his hand up to cup your jaw and pull at your lower lip, parting your mouth until you obediently allowed him to slip his thumb in, “I only do this for you.” He murmured.

Max nudged you further, watching contently as you fell onto your back, sinking into the thick blanket and released his thumb with a loud pop. You laugh a little at his proclamation, “Really? You do this for me?” You bite your lip, fiddling with the comforter beneath your fingertips, pushing off from the bed as you anchor yourself on your elbows.

“You doubt me?” He arches an incredulous eyebrow at you, bending down to part your knees, “dat zal niet lukken.” He murmured, getting down onto his knees to hook your thigh onto his shoulder, allowing him to twist his head and kiss the sensitive skin, “What should I do to prove it to you? Huh?”

Max chuckled as you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down suggestively and he would’ve given into your request had it not been for the interruption.

“HEYYY CHAMP-“The friendly boisterous voice of a certain Australian rang through your hotel room, causing you to jump and grip your boyfriends head, which had merely jolted slightly before coming to rest against your opposite thigh, uninterested.

“Daniel.” Max deadpanned, his cerulean eyes merely slackened, cracking a lazy smile as his friend stopped in his tracks, blocking the door from what seemed to be at least half of the grid, “Must you really bother me?”

“Sorry man,” you heard Lewis call out, chuckling loudly as a familiar French cackle sounded off after a lewd comment sounding like, “damn he’s pussy-whipped”. You whimpered with embarrassment, falling back against the bed as you covered your face, hiding the blotchy blush that covered your face.

“Max” You whined, twitching your leg so that he could get up and most likely go out to celebrate, “Get up, we can continue this later.” You assured him, already imagining the dress that you would wear.

“See what you did wankers?” He called out, barely lifting himself up, “Made my girl embarrassed.” He admonished his colleagues. Max looked up at you, cooing at your red face, “It’s okay, Mijn liefje. I’ll get them to leave.”

“Guys lets go” Lando called out, “Let the guy get his dick wet.”

“Ew gross.”

“Not my fault you’re single fuck-face.”

You groaned, “Guys!” The crowd settled at the sound of your harsh, crackly voice, “It’s fine, let us at least get ready?”

“Yes ma’am” Charles shouted, which was soon followed with sounds of violence and pathetic groans.

Max kissed your cheek, getting up from the floor to go and slam the door in the few faces, but before you could hear the satisfying wood beat against the hinges, Daniel had whispered, “How the fuck are you not embarrassed?” Which prompted more snickers and a flurry of agreements about your lover’s lack of humiliation.

“You should be embarrassed ass wipe.” Max chuckled as he pushed the group out of the doorway, “Walked in on me about to get the best meal money could never buy.”

If you thought about it too much the humiliation would creep back in, along with the curiosity.

Later that same evening, when your friends and you had gone out for dinner, your face was still flushed and any thought that led back to that moment in the hotel room would lead to you shaking your head promptly and diving back into conversation. Whereas Max was comfortably seated next to you, chatting happily as he sipped more alcohol from the flute by his porcelain plate whilst his free hand rested on your thigh, slipped underneath the silky material of your sundress.

It was as if the moment never happened and he was already fantasising about getting you back into the room, ready to bend you into different positions that would make your legs shake hard enough into next Sunday. He did infact, manage that.

Max laughed on your television screen, turning to look at Daniel, who was animatedly doing his own interview, “Yeah well, it’s hard to embarrass me,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth as he shrugged nonchalantly, “It really was just an inchident.”

Max winked cheekily at the camera as Mark laughed and patted his shoulder, “Nice to see Max, have a good one,”

“You too,”

You huffed out with amusement as you pointed the remote at the screen a certain calm filling the apartment as the light blinked away from the box in front of you. The sun was slowly setting on the streets of Monaco, a subtle signal that meant that your boyfriend would soon be returning home to you. Max would claim that home was where you were, but you could tell that the large penthouse was probably the closest alternative to the driver, it was a joint investment as a couple, the first of many and it was beloved by both of you.

Large windows that overlooked the high-end shopping district which curved with the positioning of the building, an oblong shape that influenced the soft edges of the entire apartment. The home was out of your Pinterest board, soft plush coaches and tall glass vases that littered every free surface, Max had claimed 2 of the 4 bedrooms, one of them being his office and the other being his specialist home gym. The third was saved for guests and the fourth, that resided on a separate floor; took over the entire area and was your shared bedroom. Luckily on his and your salary, the home was merely a drop in the ocean, along with the numerous pretty pennies you spent on furniture.

It was in other words, your baby.

Jimmy and Sassy slinked between your legs as you walked to the kitchen from your spot on the largest couch that was turned inwards to face the TV that was mounted within the ceiling, dropping down mechanically at the push of a button and retreating into the seemingly solid concrete at another. You had done exactly that, dismissing the piece of tech to show off the full-length balcony. Cooing at your fur-children you picked them up in one hand, “Come on guys, let’s finish dinner,” You kissed their heads, chuckling as they nuzzled into your face before letting them down on the floor in front of the sink when you went to put on a pair of gloves and fish out dinner from the oven.

The tell-tale chime of your elevator and the mechanical tone of the keypad informed you that Max was home, along with the cats going off to welcome their father from a long day of work,

“Hey guys,” you heard him greet the children whilst he kicked off his shoes and tucked them along with his jacket into the small cupboard that sat within the wall in the entrance hall. You turned away from the oven, placing the entire grill onto the kitchen island as you huffed happily at the dish within the Tupperware as Max walked further into the house and towards the kitchen, where you stood patiently, the soft sounds of the Vitamin String Quartet playing in the background.

“Hey, schat,” He murmured, eyes softening at the corners as he rushed to your side, tugging you away from the counter to wrap his hands around your and bury his head into your neck. You giggle at the tickle of his hair against your skin and bring your hands down to cover his that were wrapped around you, “Hello my love,” you whisper, turning your head slightly to kiss his forehead.

“You cooked,” He stated happily, smiling against you.

“I did.”

“I’m happy,” He confirmed, removing himself from your neck whilst keeping a firm hold on your waist, “How was work?”

“Same old same old, people want to invest in stocks, I do it for them. Very boring.” You rush through your day, recounting the odd events that went on in the office, “But I saw your interview, watched it on the archive.”

“Hmm,” He hummed, knowing that when you do watch the interviews, you normally do it to hear his voice and see his absurdly attractive post-race glow, not listen to the odd mechanical language and repeated statements of, “-push the car harder next race.” Or “-really disappointed this time.”

“Heard what you said about that tweet Daniel made,” You feel him kiss the skin behind your ear before snorting.

“What else could I say? Man doesn’t think before tweeting.” Max grumbled.

“Made me think-“

“Oh no.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay,”

“Anyway, made me think that I actually have never seen you blush.”

“I’m sure you have,” He assured you, untangling himself from you to get a chilled water bottle from the fridge behind you. You twist your body around, leaning back against the counter to watch his movements with squinted eyes.

“Hmm,” You tap your chin for a few seconds, “Nope, never.”

“Schat, it’s been almost two years,” He paused to crack off the top of the bottle, “I am positive you’ve seen me blush. And even if you haven’t, it’s no big deal.”

You huffed and crossed your arms childishly, “But I’m your girlfriend!” You reached out with your hands to grab his own slutty-man waist.

“Thanks for the reminder, had het anders niet geweten,” Max chuckled, allowing you to pull him by the waist to rest his abdomen just above yours.

“It’s a big deal Maxie, I’m meant to be able to make you blush,” You pouted up at him, scratching your nails up his spine, grinning as he shivered against your hold.

He took a final gulp from his bottle before minutely shifting to press harshly against a cupboard to reveal a hidden bin that popped out at his commend. Max dropped the empty plastic into the metallic cylinder and pushed the sliding contraption in again. He turned back to you, focussing on your large unblinking eyes and wet, pouting lips.

He held your face tenderly, kissing your forehead with his own, “S’okay schat, somethings just aren’t meant to happen.”

You pull away at his statement.

Like hell it won’t

“Nope, that won’t do,” You tug at his arm, guiding him into the separate dining room, a large area that was painted an off-white creamy colour, containing a brass sputnik chandelier that hung low against the white marble dining table which had at least 12 separate chairs tucked beneath its oval body. You pulled at the upholstered chair and dug your hand into the tactile Borg fabric before seating Max, who patiently trailed behind you whilst holding the separate doors open, allowing you to execute your plan perfectly.

You stood in front of the man, who was sat with his legs spread graciously in front of him with his large palms splayed against his slightly-less than normal skinny jeans. It was going to hard, yes. Harder than a diamond heist, to extract the long sought over blush from this well practiced stoic man. But you were determined.

Starting easily, you planted your hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward, close enough that your noses were touching and lips ghosting over each other’s.

“What about this?” You whispered, eyes fluttering closed as you could begin to feel the small grooves and indents of his lips against yours along with his tongue licking at your bottom lip.

“Don’t think so, love.” He murmured back, laughing heartily when you groaned and pushed at his chest.

“Ok that’s it, take it off.” You folded your arms, tapping your foot impatiently.

“Woah, at least buy me dinner first?” Max’s eyes widened as you growled playfully and tugged at the hem of his branded red-bull shirt, “O-Okay okay, chill out you horny demon.”

“Good,” You huff, undoing the buttons of your light blue shirt, until you stood in just your bra and a long pair of silky lounge-wear pants, “We aren’t leaving here until you blush at least once.” You promised him, grinning manically when he stared at your chest.

You re-started once again, barely brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, smiling to yourself when his breath hitched and he groaned, “Anything?” You breathe out, licking slowly, lustfully at the sensitive skin between his ear and the nape of his neck.

“No,” Max denied, squeezing his eyes shut when you took the skin of his collar bone between your lips, sucking lavishly until you were sure of a dark blue love bite before moving inwards, littering the pale canvas with your marks.

“Come on Maxie, you know you want to,” You crooned moving further down, until your face was between his pecs and your hands were braced against the muscles, you dug your nails into his skin before dragging them slowly downwards whilst keeping your eyes locked with his, waiting for the victorious rosy tint to paint his face.

No luck.

“Maybe we should just give up? I can think of a lot of things I can do,” He just barely moaned out from between heavy pants whilst your mouth had made its way to his navel, leaving a wet trail in its wake. You shook your head slightly, flicking your eyes down to where your tongue lay flat against his stomach, “Are you fucking kidding me?” You complained, biting his abs.

“What? I can’t help it,” He defended, holding his arms up innocently before clenching his jaw shut when you began to fiddle with the button of his jeans.

“Yeah?” You challenge, getting up from the tiled floor to swing one leg to one side of his waist while the other sat on the opposite side, allowing you to straddle him and sit directly on his crotch whilst raising an eyebrow at his rolled back eyes.

“What about now Maxie?”

You winded your hips once. Twice. Until he came to hold your love-handles with a tight, possessive grip. Max leaned up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, you whimpered when one of his hands slipped beneath your pants to snap the elastic of your underwear.

You pulled away, burring your hands in his hair and letting the soft strands flow through your fingers, “What about now?” You murmur, pushing yourself against his palm whilst arching your back. He hissed, smirking at your determination.

“Nope.” He removed both hands from your body to fold them behind his head and lean back, “Now what, schat?”

You slumped down and pulled at your bra strap contemplatively, “Dinner.” You stated simply, clambering out of his lap.

“That’s what I tho- wait why are your clothes on?” He asked you incredulously, pointing at the significant tent in his jeans.

“Max Emillian Verstappen I put a lot of effort into dinner tonight,” You scolded him with your pointer finger as you slipped on your shirt, leaving the buttons undone.

“W-what the-“ He spluttered reaching for your hand, “Seriously don’t do this,” he whined, adjusting his jeans with an uncomfortable expression.

“That’s what you get.” You shrugged, leaving him in the dining room, not before you bent down in front of him- swaying your hips suggestively as you collected his shirt from the floor and throwing it at him, “Don’t come out without your shirt on.”

The door slowly creaked shut, leaving Max still shirtless, flabbergasted at his inability to blush.

Well, not really.

He groaned loudly, balling up his shirt to hide the angry red flush that creeped up his cheeks and took over the entirety of his chest, ears and neck.

“HAH!” You called out, re-emerging from the door with a bang, “I KNEW IT.” You had your phone in your hand, displaying a perfect picture of his flustered state, the blonde was buried within his team’s shirt and was very obviously scarlet, “NOW THE WORLD WILL KNOW!” You shouted victoriously, jumping up and down in your spot, shirt still unbuttoned.

You squealed when Max jumped and growled at you, “Get back here, I’ll give you something to tweet about.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...Dutch....to english....over

heilige shit - Holy shit

Geliefde - Love [r]

mijn mooie vriendin - my beautiful girlfriend

dat zal niet lukken - that won't work

Mijn liefje - My darling

schat - Darling/Love/Babe [term of endearment]

had het anders niet geweten - wouldn't have known otherwise

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rosedpetal · 1 month ago

Note

Behave is SOOO hot! I can’t help but imagine giving Bucky a taste of his own medicine. Let’s see how he reacts when he’s suddenly too aware of the men thirsting over his wife and maybe a little bratty twist that while his wife doesn’t entertain them, she also doesn’t stop them, bonus if she keeps Bucky at a distance. then bam, he snaps. Filthy jealous/possessive smut. I’m sorry imma see my way out ur work short circuited my brain 😭

girly, he'd be PISSED

Part I | Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut.

Minors, do not interact.

To say you were enjoying your little power trip was an understatement.

Dressed in a long gown, with your hair up in the most beautiful bun Bucky's ever seen, a few locks loose to frame your face, and your makeup done by a professional, you were a vision to behold.

Unfortunately, it wasn't for his eyes only.

Being the wife of an Avenger meant dealing with people and fancy events. Most of the time, Bucky accepted the attention with grace, and then moved on with his life.

But on some very rare occurrences, his fans and the press also turned their attention to you.

It wasn't that Bucky wasn't proud of the gorgeous woman by his side — he gave you one of those freaking Darry engagement rings that could only be bought once by person, and married you only half a year later. 'I don't wanna give you any more time that could make you change your mind', were his exact words to you. He was insane about you. You were the love of his life, and he overcame so much to make sure he would be worthy of your love.

He worshipped the ground you walked on. And he wasn't afraid to tell you that.

But just like a man born in his time, Bucky was extremely possessive of his wife.

And he couldn't stand the two photographers flashing their cameras at you and asking you to 'turn around', 'blow a kiss' or 'smile'.

Bucky's mood was changing quickly, as he analyzed every micro expression on their faces as they took pictures of you. Your face, your dress, your fucking curves.

And you were gracefully accepting every little praise, your smile a little too bright for Bucky's liking.

While he tried to detain his thoughts to going for that dark place, were he would bash these assholes' heads on the concrete until they were beyond recognition, he couldn't help but wonder what had triggered such a reckless behavior from you.

Did he do something that riled you up during this week? He remembers unloading the dishwasher the moment you asked for it. Sometimes he forgets his shoes in the middle of the living room, but it surely couldn't be it.

His eyes darkened in realization when he finally figured you out. Letting these men fawn over you like you were a free woman... That was payback.

Bucky was very aware of your territorial nature when it came to him. For fucks sake, you let the whole world know when you were pissed at another woman for eye fucking him just by the way your eyebrows furrowed and your lips pressed in a thin line, — which once Thor made the mistake of pointing to, and the mean mug you gave the Asgardian still haunted his dreams to this day.

So, Bucky teased you for it. It was okay, right? It was just light banter. You couldn't be possibly punishing him for such a petty reason right the fuck now?

His mind took a quick turn to all the life choices he made that had lead to this exact moment. You giggling and tossing your hair while other men undressed you with their eyes.

It doesn't matter that they were simply doing their jobs. He could see how long they were taking to photograph you when... Well, Bucky was the famous one.

The moment one of the photographers' hands went for you, Bucky instantly reacted, putting himself between you and the fucking moron that seemed to conveniently forget that you were a married woman and your husband was right there.

"Don't you dare touch my wife. Keep running your fucking mouth and taking your fucking pictures and I'll show you why they used to call me Winter Soldier." Bucky's voice was low and lacking any emotion, his vibranium hand wrapped tightly around the dude's wrist.

Bucky's threat wasn't directed at you, but it went straight to your core. You felt all warm and fuzzy inside as he went all alpha mode.

The two guys quickly excused themselves after that, and you let out a light chuckle.

"Thank God, they finally left. I was worried for a second they were gonna blind me with- hey, what are you doing? Bucky, what the fuck?" You whispered as he practically dragged you back to the waiting car, quickly sending a text to Sam to let him know you two were leaving early.

He opened the door for you and you quickly scooped inside, knowing your husband was mad. Bucky sat next to you and told the driver to roll up the partition wall.

"Bucky, talk to me!" You finally snapped, annoyed. "Why are we leaving early?"

"Because-" Bucky turned to you, interrupting himself when he noted how loud he was being, lowering his voice on the next words, and pointing his index finger to your face, eyes boring into yours. "Because you decided to piss me the hell off tonight, and I'm gonna have to teach you how properly a married woman should behave."

Your eyes widened in indignation as you threw your bag in the couch. "Excuse me? How properly I should what? I'm sorry to inform you, honey, but this is the 21st fucking century, not the damn 40s."

Bucky chuckled, humorlessly. The audacity of you. To twirl your hair locks while smiling at other men flirting with you openly, and now pretend he was the bad guy for reprimanding you.

"You're gonna keep your mouth shut until we get home, and if you so much as try to be cute with me, I promise that what I have in store for you is gonna turn ten times worse."

You raised your eyebrow. Maybe you were looking for trouble today, but you sure as hell weren't about to let Bucky undermine you over his bruised ego.

"What are you now, a caveman? Is your masculinity so fragile that you can't stand the fact that I can be lusted after too? When you smirk at me across the room while women are flaunting themselves to you, you think you're the only one entitled to make me feel insecure, as if you're a goddamn prize?"

"Y/N-"

"No, please, enlighten me on why the hell you think you can joke with your friends about my possessiveness and act exactly the same, then have the guts to belittle me for it!"

"Dollface-"

"You know what? I was only posing-"

"Goddamnit, will you shut up?" Bucky snapped. "I don't smirk at you across the room to show off and make you jealous, I do it because I thought it was our thing! Some delusional girl will come to me, I'll playfully smile at you because we both joke on how ridiculous they are! I'm not trying to make you insecure, you insane little thing, I think it's cute how you react every time, and how you never direct your anger at me. And by the way, I never tossed or twirled my hair for any woman, or giggled, just to spite you!"

You clenched your fists. No. Even if he was right (which he wasn't), you couldn't just give in and apologize right now. You had reasons to be pissed, you were tired of being teased, as if you were the only one in the relationship that was overly jealous. You knew your words should've been measured, but right now, you couldn't care less. You crossed your arms, voice neutral as you gave him the fatal blow:

"You know what I think, James? I think you're not enough of a man, and what I just did broke your little illusion of power. That's what got your lady panties in a twist."

Bucky's jaw clenched, a flash of anger coursing through his veins. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Are you deaf?"

Two seconds of you staring at him with your coy little act, he was fuming and he practically lunged at you. You squealed and giggled when he pushed you to lay on your back in the leather seat of the limo, breathless and flustered.

"You little minx. You're about to get spanked in the back of a limo like the whore you are." Bucky hissed in your ear, maneuvering you so you were laying on your stomach. He impatiently raised the long skirts of your dress, not even giving you time to prepare for the series of blows he delivered to your poor ass.

Your giggles quickly stopped, and they turned to whimpers.

"C'mon, brat, tell me I'm not a man now." He nibbled your earlobe, pressing his chest against your back. "I dare you. Go ahead, baby. I'm waiting."

Your ass had his fingerprints now, a beautiful shade of red in them. More beautiful than the blush on your cheeks. Your lip was quivering when he was done, finally showing mercy on your rear. You sighed in relief and he gave you a wolfish grin, his hand sliding between your thighs and collecting your arousal, gently spreading it on your folds, his voice low and full of purpose:

"We're just getting started, baby girl."

"This is not fair." You whined, your words dying down when his index and middle finger entered you, opening you up for him. You bit your hand when curled his digits, brushing against your spongy spot.

"What's not fair? Do you want me to stop?" Bucky teased, kissing your neck.

It was getting hot inside the limo, with your gown and your husband crowding you against the leather seats. The sweat was quickly forming in your skin, and it was a bit uncomfortable, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him to stop.

"No... I just-"

"I just-" Bucky mocked you, clicking his tongue. "Can't even speak anymore?"

"It's hot." You complained, in a whiny tone.

Bucky sighed, sitting up to turn the air conditioner on, the cold breeze welcomed to you both. His fingers never left your pussy, and he scissored you hard, smirking at how you tried to keep it down so the poor driver wouldn't hear you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand from you, pulling your head back by your hair and shoving his slick digits on your mouth, which you eagerly licked clean. Bucky undid his slacks, groaning in relief when he freed his rock hard length from the constricting fabric. He pulled you to his lap, your back to his chest, your thighs spread over his.

"Think you can ride me without hitting your head in the ceiling?" He whispered on your ear as you grabbed his cock and aligned him at your entrance.

"Hmmm... Probably no." You looked up.

"Then stay still while Daddy fucks you."

Your mouth hung open when he slammed into you, harder than you expected, without giving you time to get used to his thickness. He shoved his tie on your mouth to muffle your moans, one hand on your hip and the other squeezing your breast, while he pistoned his hips up.

You didn't even make a sound.

The sound of his balls slapping against your clit and the shameful, wet noise of your pussy being rammed were enough.

"See why I'm so obsessed with you? Why I can't stand you being lusted after? It's cause the thought of someone else having this pussy makes me wanna rip my fucking hair out, baby." Bucky murmured in your ear, his movements not easing down, not faltering for a second. "I know I have no leg to stand on, acting jealous and possessive of you, but fuck if I'm taking a single risk of losing you, of losing this."

Your eyes rolled back, your walls clamping down violently on your husband's cock, and you spasmed above him, reaching your apex.

With a groan that made you blush, Bucky came in hot spurts, filling you up with his load.

His chest was rising and falling as if he ran a marathon, and he gently patted your thigh. "C'mon baby, pull yourself together. We just got home. I'm not done with you yet."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #jealous!bucky

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 9 months ago

Text

[4:02 pm]

"Nobody would ever believe me," you whispered to yourself as you looked down at Renjun and carded your fingers through his silky hair.

He hummed, eyes blinking slowly in comfort and pleasure, “huh?”

“Nothing honey, just the show,” you reply nonchalantly, though your eyes are locked on your sleepy boyfriend on your lap. You raise your phone just out of his sight and snap a picture. It was a cute memory, but it could also be used for blackmail knowing your boyfriend.

This was a very, very rare occurrence. Renjun willingly being affectionate, seeking out your affection, and while the sun was out. Usually, Renjun was a bit like a huffy, mean toddler when you tried you get affection from him. He puffed out his cheeks and pushed your hands away, only wanting affection when he was ready for it. It was something you’d gotten used to in your relationship. He wasn’t overly affectionate, which was fine, not everyone was. This just made it all the more special when he did go out of his way to initiate affection with you.

Usually, this would happen when he was sick, had been gone for a while, or, like now, was tired. He had snuck up onto your lap, gently laid his head in your lap, curled up, and pulled your hand to his hair. It was cute.

However, it was now unfortunate that a sense one boredom was sinking in and the tv remote was on the opposite end of the couch. You tried reaching to no avail. You leaned over as far as you could without disturbing Renjun and still couldn’t reach. What were you going to do?

His eyes were fully closed with soft breaths escaping him. He looked so peaceful. You reached for a throw pillow and as carefully as you could you lifted his head and slid the pillow under. He whined quietly, shifting to get comfortable before calming down. You got the remote and stretched your legs. While you were up, why not move around?

You walked to your room to change into pajamas, you had just changed when a pouty Renjun walked into the room and threw his arms around your waist. “You left me,” he whined tiredly.

“I wanted to get comfortable,” you reply. You go to move forward and find that Renjun shuffles forward with you.

You take another step and he moved with you again, “are you going to let go?”

You can feel him shake his head against your back where his cheek is pressed to your sweater, “it’s your punishment for leaving me alone.”

And really it was your own fault for thinking someone as stubborn as Renjun wouldn’t follow through with this pettiness. You walked to the kitchen with Renjun stuck to your back, he moved with you at every bend of the waist, reaching on the tips of your toes, and lean against the cabinet doors.

“Can you hurry up?” He huffed as you munched on some chips while staring into the fridge.

“You can go lay down, I’ll be right there,” you offer instead.

“Or you can pick something from the fridge and take it with you while we both go to the couch, come on,” he urges.

“But I can’t decide if I want strawberries or grapes. And I really haven’t drank enough water today but the lemonade is calling my name,” you ponder aloud.

Renjun half groans, half whines, his arms tightening around your waist. “Get the strawberries and lemonade and let’s go! Please.”

You laugh, following his directions before shuffling back to the couch. Renjun watches you get comfortable before laying down on top of you, his previous sleepiness gone for the moment as he opens his mouth with an “ahh” for a bite of strawberry.

You lean down, peppering his cheeks with affectionately aggressive kisses, “you’re so cute Renjun!”

He groans out loudly, moving his head away, but does nothing else to stop your affection, Stop it!”

“My little clingy baby! Tell me you love me.”

He scowls, his cheeks red with embarrassment, “who says I do?”

You scoff, “how about you whining and clinging to me like a baby koala?”

He huffs, eyes locked on the screen for a second of silence before he finally replies, “delete the picture you took and I’ll tell you.”

Your jaw drops as you gasp, “how did you know I even took a picture? I won’t show anyone, I promise!”

He raises his eyebrows, giving you a skeptical look from the corner of his eyes, “pinky promise?”

You interlock your pinkies, “with a cherry on top.”

“Fine… I love you, I guess,” he sighs out in faux annoyance.

You smile brightly, pressing another series of kisses to his cheeks, “I knew it!”

He turns his body fully, giving you a questioning look, “you’re not even going to say it back?”

#kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop au #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #renjun imagines #renjun x reader #renjun fluff #renjun blurbs #renjun timestamps

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x3luvr · 4 months ago

Text

Headaches —

Levi x Reader (Fluff Fluff Fluff)

In which the cure to Levi’s headaches is your touch —

You had just returned from the training grounds after assisting the newer cadets with hand to hand combat. As you strolled through the walls of the scouts quarters, you came to a halt before the door that lead into Levi’s office. All you wanted to do was to see your lover, hear his voice and touch his skin. However, when you soundlessly cracked open the door, the image of Levi sitting at his desk with the tips of his fingers pressed against either side of his head caught your attention.

“Levi..” You hesitated, before shutting the door behind you. The Captain held an expression that indicated he was in excruciating pain, causing your heart to sink. “Are you having one of “those’ headaches again?” You gently pushed back some of his dark locks in order to get a better view of his face.

“Yeah, feels like shit.” Levi’s gaze met yours, as you noticed the dark circles beginning to form under his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be working in this state.” Your warm touch caressed the side of his cheek, feeling the sensation of the sigh that escaped his lips.

After much convincing, Levi finally gave in, agreeing to join you on the couch. His head rested in your lap, as you began observing his strangely angelic features. When the Captain wasn’t clenching his jaw or narrowing his eyes like usual, he looked utterly breathtaking. His parted lips, relaxed gaze and untidy hair caused you to remain awestruck for a little too long.

“Something on my face?” His confused tone snapped you out of your daze. Quickly dismissing his question, you began rubbing his temples in a circular motion. “That feels good.” The Captain mumbled through a breathy sigh, as relief washed over him.

It was a common occurrence for Levi to endure excruciatingly painful headaches, and everytime you felt somewhat helpless in aiding your lover. Being forced to watch him struggle to keep his eyes open, the visible clench of his jaw, and the progressive deepening of his frown line wasn’t a pleasant sight to witness.

Soon your fingers ventured into Levi’s hair, stroking through his silky raven locks. The act caused him to lean further into your touch, as the tension visibly faded from his body. “Dunno how you’re doing it, but I feel less like death.” The man lightheartedly spoke.

It wasn’t long before your continuous forehead to scalp massages left Levi dozed off in your arms. He rarely managed to get adequate sleep, so the fact that he was comfortable with you to this extent was very rewarding.

Although your body remained still in the hopes of not waking him up, your hands urged to caress his chalky pale skin, to trace every one of his sharp features. So when your attention fell on his plump, lightly tinted lips, you could no longer hold back.

As you leaned down, your lips softly pressed against the Captains. A kiss so authentic and pure that it consumed of nothing more that utter love and affection. “Rest easy my love.” You whispered so quietly that you yourself barely heard it.

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sigyns-drafts · 10 months ago

Note

waaa Hades,Buddha, Loki and Poseidon x gn!reader (seperate) who is tired and fell asleep during a meeting and it turned into a cuddle session after they got out of the meeting room.....😭

(I'm sorry I can't be more specific anymore I just want fluff of them :') , also sorry if your request is closed :') but I'm dying for them istg , If you don't write for this many characters you can exclude them! I don't mind! Or even ignore the request, just please stay hydrated and I hope you have a good day <3 )

A/N: Of course anon, I totally get you for wanting more content on your favourite characters, literally the same here!

Apologies it took forever and to everyone requesting! I've been very sick and things kept piling up, but I'm slowly making a return. <3

You described everything I needed to know just right, so please don't be sorry for anything! Thank you for being so caring, I apologise it took me forever. Don't forget to stay hydrated too~♡

Slumber in the Divine Boardroom 💤

➩ You and your divine boyfriend are attending an important meeting, but for whatever reason you find yourself very tired and eventually doze off.

Your boyfriend noticed and what does he do about this? Once everyone is gone turn this into a cuddle session between the two of you of course~

➩ Reader type: Gn!Reader x Hades, Buddha, Loki, Poseidon

⚠: Wholesome fluff, Romantic fluff, a lot of cuddling and nuzzling, teasing and flirting

Hades:

In the dimly lit meeting room located in the underworldly realm of Helheim.

Hades found himself presiding over yet another gathering together with other formidable figures.

Y/n, his partner who was only there for moral support like usual, could care less about what they spoke about when the weight of exhaustion and struggle to stay awake hit them like a heavy brick.

Living with Hades and being his lover, while luxurious, was still a burden to handle at times.

Especially when the god was met with so many constant schedules and tasks he would have to attend and keep up with.

Much to y/n's dismay, who not only wanted to be there for Hades using their own spare time to follow him around.

They also wanted to spend time with their beloved king alone, which was a rare occurrence.

As the talk of afterlife's affairs droned on for hours and the flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the cavernous walls, y/n's sleep deprived state only worsend over time.

Hades, who continued his stern discourse in front of his important guests, took notice in y/n's eyes, closing involuntarily, just across from where he stood.

He almost felt guilty to have dragged y/n out here when they could have stayed at home resting. But y/n was always so persistent!

The gentle hum of conversation became a distant murmur as y/n drifted into a peaceful slumber, head resting on the cold, obsidian table.

Eventually the meeting concluded, and the attendees filed out without questioning why Hades's love was asleep, leaving them alone to have their moment of peace.

Uncharacteristically, a softer expression crossed the lord of the underworld's face as he observed Y/n's serene repose. Hades was pondering if he should wake y/n up but.. Something held him back.

He gently strokes his hand through y/n's hair, taking it behind their ear before whispering in a low and soft tone to himself, but targeted towards his partner.

"My precious, already sound asleep when you could have just told me you wanted to stay home today~"

Deciding to not wake up Y/n, Hades carefully summoned a cloak and draped it over them both, creating a makeshift cocoon of warmth to carry his love.

The chilly ambiance of Helheim transformed into a surprisingly cosy haven sometimes, especially when you'd be all cuddled up.

Hades, normally not the type to do these things, now revealed a gentler side.

While adjusting Y/n's position to ensure their comfort, the man picks them up with his strong arms. Making sure y/n's head rests nicely and steady on his wide and surprisingly warm shoulder.

The god allowed himself a rare vulnerability, watching over Y/n with a small grin and a protective gaze.

As the flickering torches cast dancing shadows, the silence enveloped the room, broken only by the tapping of the man's shoes against the stone flooring.

Hades decided the next best thing to do was to bring y/n back to their chambers and perhaps, even he could take a small rest there to enjoy their solitude a bit more.

Hades gently placed y/n onto their queen sized bed, careful not to disturb their peaceful slumber. Settling beside y/n, he couldn't resist the allure of their presence.

The shadows seemed to soften as he pulled them into a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around their sleeping lover and relishing in the moment.

Time passed in the quietude, and as sleep began to claim the god of the dead, y/n stirred. A soft blush tinted their cheeks as they realised the situation.

Nestled in the arms of Hades sent a warm shiver down their spine.

Y/n, not wanting to disturb Hades, who had succumbed to hypnos himself, gently moved closer. A gentle murmur escaped their lips, a tender reminder of the impending responsibilities that awaited the lord of the Underworld.

With a soft touch, they roused Hades, their fingers tracing over the god's sharp features.

"Hades," y/n whispered, their voice a delicate melody in the quiet chamber.

"We had another meeting to attend after the first. It's time to wake up darling.."

Hades, stirred from his slumber, opened his eyes to meet the gaze of y/n.

The vulnerability in that moment was showing itself still, and a rare smile graced the god's lips.

The weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifted as he thought to himself how lucky he was to wake up to y/n everyday.

As Hades and y/n shared a lingering gaze, the gravity of their roles in the Underworld momentarily forgotten, Hades pulled y/n close to press his face against y/n's neck and nuzzle them.

Y/n blushes even more at this and chuckles while combining through the Gods white locks of hair.

"Oh hades~ you really can be a softie huh?"

With a soft nod, Hades agreed and acknowledged the reminder of his duties, yet he couldn't help but savour the warmth of his partner.

"I'm only soft for you.. But only you y/n~"

Buddha:

Buddha, who found himself hesitant to attend another divine meeting between the leader gods of their respective pantheons, to discuss important matters regarding humanity, didn't want to go alone.

So when struck with such a dilemma what does he do? Well he would bring a companion, and decided to bring none other than his most beloved Y/n!

As they entered the grand hall of the gods, Y/n felt a mix of awe, nervousness and exhaustion.

After all, they both had travelled far from their home! Also not to mention the fact y/n had been pulled into this extraordinary gathering a little out of nowhere.

But upon such an offer from their man, how could they possibly refuse such a thing?

They barely got to travel as much as they would have liked.

As the meeting unfolded with gods discussing the fate of humanity. Y/n found themselves rather comfortably seated next to Buddha.

However, soon struggled to stay awake, succumbing to the weariness of the divine environment.

While the discussions continued, Y/n drifted into a gentle slumber, head resting on Buddha's shoulder.

After the gods concluded their deliberations and departed, Buddha, noticing Y/n's fatigue, chuckled softly to himself.

He decided to play a light-hearted prank to wake them up. In his hand, he conjured a piece of his favourite chocolate snack, gently placing it near Y/n's nose.

To his surprise, the sweet aroma stirred Y/n, who slowly opened their eyes.

"Huh, Buddha, what's that delicious smell..?"

Y/n, initially confused, was met with Buddha's playful smile.

The two shared a moment of laughter, breaking the serious atmosphere that lingered after the gods' departure.

Buddha, aware of Y/n's love for snacks, much like his own, decided to extend the lightheartedness of their cute moment further.

"You know, since everyone is gone, we could go find a cosy spot to ourselves and enjoy some more treats~"

Y/n's lit up and they nodded excitedly at Buddha's suggestion! This had been so worth travelling for.

"Oh yes please! I'd love to explore a little around here and then continue resting somewhere very nice."

While they wandered away from the divine hall, Buddha made sure to show y/n around and explore with them!

While they did they found a serene garden hidden within the world of gods, much to y/n and Buddha's enjoyment for their plan.

Sitting down under a giant tree, Buddha and Y/n cuddled closely to each other.

"Oh this is simply divine Buddha, thank you so much for taking me with you~!"

Buddha leaned against the tree while feeding himself and y/n, his partner resting against his chest enjoying the moment and snacks they were fed.

"Me too sweetie, I knew you were the right one to bring with me."

Buddha grins happily, looking down at y/n, his eyes shining with love for them. He leans down and teasingly kisses their cheek.

"Even though you feel asleep during the meeting, which is my thing!"

The couple burst out laughing at Buddha's joking comment, it was true!

Y/n blushes slightly, they couldn't help but smile widely at Buddha's words.

He would usually take the chance to nap during such meetings if it wasn't to his interest.

With the rustling of leaves, Buddha and Y/n savoured the snacks, bonding over their shared love for their special delights.

The garden became a space where they could find peace all to themselves.

Loki:

In the grand halls of Asgard, the gods gathered for a crucial meeting.

Loki, mischievous as ever, had brought y/n along with him.

He claimed he couldn't leave y/n alone at home, but his true intention was to find amusement in y/n's company during the important discussions.

As the meeting unfolded, the weight of the gods' discussions combined with y/n's exhaustion from the day took its toll.

Y/n found it hard to keep their eyes open, succumbing to the lull of drowsiness.

Unbeknownst to them, Loki couldn't resist the opportunity to toy with y/n while maintaining his composure.

Loki leaned in, whispering in y/n's ear, "Sweet y/n, the godly matters bore you to sleep, I see~"

Y/n mumbled a half-conscious response, "No no! Just... tired."

Loki grinned, plotting mischief as the gods continued their discourse.

However, his plans were thwarted when y/n's eyelids drooped further, and they drifted into a peaceful slumber.

When the meeting concluded, and as the gods departed, Loki turned his attention back to y/n.

He marvelled at the serene expression on their peaceful face, finding unexpected adoration replacing his mischievous intentions.

With a gentle touch, he attempted to wake their lover up, calling their name softly or shaking them gently.

But no response or reaction came!

Growing impatient yet oddly fond, Loki decided to resort to a different tactic.

His fingers danced along y/n's sides, tickling them with ease.

In an instant, y/n jolted awake, eyes wide open in surprise.

"Loki! What in helheim are you doing?!" Y/n exclaimed, totally flushed and caught off guard.

He chuckled, pulling y/n close to himself.

"I couldn't resist, my dear. You looked so peaceful, but my attempts at a normal awakening failed."

Rolling their eyes, y/n sighed to themselves.

"You could've just shaken me gently."

"I tried! Either way this way is much more entertaining hehe~"

Loki teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he nuzzled himself against y/n's neck.

Despite y/n's initial annoyance, a smile crept onto their face.

The tension dissipated as Loki wrapped his arms around them even tighter than before, his soft kisses tickling y/n's neck.

The god of mischief had traded his tricks for a tender moment, and as you cuddled together in the room, leaving only the intimacy of the two of you.

Poseidon:

Poseidon and Y/n found themselves in a grand hall, attending a crucial meeting among the sea gods.

As discussions flowed, Y/n, overwhelmed by the divine chatter, struggled to keep their eyes open.

Poseidon noticed and chuckled under his breath, finding it entertaining. Though you could barely tell that he was excited, from his serious and unchanging face.

Poseidon leans close to y/n and starts whispering, almost mockingly.

"Someone's having a bit of trouble staying awake, aren't they?"

Y/n, in a half-dreamy state, mumbled a half-hearted response, "No! Just a little bored from... godly matters."

As the meeting concluded and the other ocean gods dispersed, leaving Poseidon and Y/n alone in the now empty hall.

Y/n, succumbing to exhaustion, had dozed off in their seat. Poseidon, finding the situation amusing, decided to take advantage of the moment.

The god finally lets his cold stone of a face change and smirks.

"Well, well, my dear Y/n, it seems the weight of divine matters was a bit too much for you."

Y/n, still half-asleep, groggily responded, "I'm awake, I'm awake... I just closed my eyes for a moment!"

Poseidon raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his ocean blue eyes.

"A moment? It felt like an eternity. You missed quite an enlightening discussion on ocean currents.."

Y/n, now fully aware of their surroundings, blushed and tried to defend themselves.

"I'm sorry, Poseidon. It's not that I wasn't interested. I just... the ambiance was so soothing."

Poseidon grinned, his godly aura radiating strongly.

"Soothing, you say? Well, maybe you just need a less comfortable place to discuss matters then."

"What? No! Please Poseidon, I truly love the beauty of your halls and wouldn't want to change it for the world."

"Not even to make yourself.. Even more comfortable?"

Y/n blinks, now feeling very confused with the mixed signals they were getting.

"Pardon me love..?"

With a snap of his fingers, the grand hall transformed into a cosy space filled with pillows and soft blankets. Y/n looked around, bewildered.

"What is the meaning of this, are you not going to lecture me?"

"I thought for a change I could be more easy on you, after all you are my lover. Now, let's catch up on the discussion, shall we?"

As they settled into the comfortable space, Poseidon pulled Y/n into a playful embrace.

The serious tone of the meeting and his was replaced by laughter and gentle teasing. Something Y/n definitely had to get used to!

"But seriously darling. Clearly, the weight of godly responsibilities is too much for you to bear."

Y/n rolled their eyes, there he went again insisting.

"Oh, please. You're one to talk, Lord of the Sea. Your ocean currents lecture nearly put me to sleep."

Poseidon chuckled, his selden heard laughter echoing through the transformed hall.

The god, known for his seriousness, was now wrapped in the warmth of his love's presence, turning an important meeting into an unexpected cuddle session.

But of course, still making sure y/n caught up on what they had missed.

And so, surrounded by the divine comfort of their impromptu sanctuary, Poseidon continued to playfully lecture Y/n.

Both revel in the joy of each other's company amidst their responsibilities.

#reader x character #reader x canon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #romantic #romantic fluff #fluff #writing #ror hades #ror buddha #ror loki #ror poseidon #ror x reader #ror x you

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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months ago

Text

Cuddling w/ Various CRP characters 2/2

Notes: Reader is GN! Toby, Nina, Ben, and Jane are platonic! The others can be seen as either platonic or romantic! If I forget to link the previous part, you can find them in volume 3 of the Creepypasta Masterlist in my pinned!

This post contains: Laughing Jill, Jane the Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Puppeteer

CWs: None

LAUGHING JILL

Her body is similar to Laughing Jack's, but shes more of a plushie compared to him. So naturally she's much much softer! Let's you say with her hair as you two snuggle up together. Like her male counterpart, she can purr! Its very comforting if you're seeking her out after a long day! Shes not as clingy as Jack, though... still just as loving though! 7/10 she tends to be little spoon

NINA

Getting this out of the way but Nina WOULD glomp you any chance she gets. If she gets too rough though, she will tone it down. A lot of your cuddling sessions start off with a glomp. Loves being physically affectionate with all of her friends so this is going to be a common occurrence if you let her do it! Neither little or big spoon, she lays across you in bed effectively locking you in place with her until the session is over. Her jacket is so soft and cozy! Some of her accessories might be a little uncomfortable as they press against you, though... big large beads and spikes.. 6/10 she gets some grace here because I love her so much

JANE

Not at all affectionate, I also headcanon that she avoids touch when she can. Please do not try to pressure or push her into cuddling with you, reader! She will approach you when she's ready! It starts off small, with her gently leaning into your side. Shes thin, so she runs a bit on the colder side.. she assures you that her aversion has nothing to do with something you did, she doesnt want you to feel like you did something wrong.. I dont exactly feel comfortable giving her a rating soooooo

BEN

He is usually inside a computer or phone :( how will you cuddle? Sure you COULD just take your laptop to bed and awkwardly wrap your arms around it, but... I mean technically like that hes warm! If you happen to catch him when hes out.. there is only regret. First of all hes like Jeff, he thinks this sort of thing is kind of cringe. Even if you did get so much as a hug from him, hes ice cold and uncomfortably damp... also has a weird electric buzz in his body that.. actually doesn't feel terrible, but combined with the other sensations it's just so.. overwhelming! 2/10

PUPPETEER

Very cold and very hard! Its almost like hes made of wood or something.. wait a minute...! He likes being held, so he defaults to little spoon. But if you insist on being the little spoon he might just be big spoon... its very rare, though. On the chance that he is, he sometimes hums and works his fingers through his hair. You... often times fall asleep to his humming. Cuddling is.. fairly regular, given that he constantly demands your attention .. 6/10

TICCI TOBY

He desperately craves affection but he also tends to reject it as a defense thing. When you get him to agree to cuddle with you, he tries to be big spoon.. he falls silent when you beat him to it. He thinks its nice, but he doesn't know how to process this. He wants to be able to do this sort of thing to happen more often but hes... not sneaky or confident when it comes to asking. Hes a little on the cooler side, but his jacket more than makes up for it by adding a bit of heat and softness... 6/10, please give him a hug as well

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #laughing Jill x reader #nina the killer x reader #jane the killer x reader #ben Drowned x reader #puppeteer x reader #ticci toby x reader

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gingerlee-holds · 5 months ago

Note

Ok ok so and idea for a fic: Alastor broadcasts one of his frequent tikl attacks on Vox so everyone in hell knows about his weakness (any length is fine)

oh!!! thank you for the idea and request anon/lovebug!! i hope you enjoy this!! its not directly related to the series im currently writing about ler!alastor, but its related, so maybe its on the same storyline just in the future- enjoy!!

aaaa i absolutely did not proofread this so ignore the terribleness xD

Tune On In

Words: 2228 Warnings: not proofread lmao- also mentions of alastor's violent tendencies but its offhanded

Pentagram City, among the only metropolitan areas in Hell, was bustling. Cars honked in endless traffic, clubs blared out noisy music, guns were fired, and demons screamed in agony or ecstasy, often both. There were a few moments when the city was blissfully serene, though these were rare occurrences accompanied by tragedy. For instance, after the formerly annual Exterminations, the entire city held its breath for the toll of the clock tower to signal that they were spared. These minutes of agonizing silence were rarely enjoyed, though.

There was only one other time when Pentagram City was so quiet: when the Radio Demon made a broadcast. Each radio and speaker in the city played the single, agonizing transmission. The hair on the neck of every sinner rose in fear, and every overlord held their breath. The terror and respect Alastor garnered by broadcasting the suffering of his victims made him the second most feared being in Hell, second only to Adam. Now, though, the commander of the Exorcists had been disposed of, meaning Alastor now had the top spot. And when the speakers across Pentagram City suddenly became overwhelmed by static, the Radio Demon smiled to himself, knowing he had the rapt attention of every demon in the Pride ring.

"Testing, testing~! Is this thing on?" Alastor's voice echoed through the now-silent streets. “Salutations, sinners! Thank you all for joining me on this lovely morning! The temperature today is a downright balmy eighty-six degrees, and we're getting reports of a chance of acid rain in the southside around ten o'clock, so keep those umbrellas ready, folks! Now, I'm sure you're all wondering who I have with me as today's special guest on the program, and I'm thrilled to introduce him~!"

Alastor spun around in his chair, grinning with delight at his victim, who lay on the floor of his recording studio, bound by magic tendrils. The businessman glared up at him, mouthing, "Don't you fucking dare," to no avail.

"Yes, it is my absolute pleasure to welcome everyone's favorite wannabe, the overrated picture box himself~! Everyone give a hand to Vox, CEO of VoxTek Enterprises and peddler of the same useless trinkets and gizmos corrupting today's youth! Yes, a big hand for the pixellated prince!" Alastor pressed a button on his soundboard to play a recording of raucous applause.

Velvette looked up from her phone, blinking with realization. She cringed and looked over at Valentino, who looked like he was about to throw another tantrum. "How was he stupid enough to get himself captured?" she mumbled as she ran to the security cameras. Alastor continued his monologuing as Velvette watched, dumbfounded, the recording of Vox reading a letter before storming into a power outlet. She looked behind her as Val grabbed the letter from the table and began to read it silently, fuming.

Alastor wanted to prolong this as much as possible. "How have your stocks been doing, old pal?" he asked innocently, extending his microphone staff for his guest.

"Just fine." The mic was sensitive enough to pick up Vox's angry sparks and glitched voice as he spoke, struggling to seem level-headed now that he was being recorded.

The Radio Demon giggled. "Any new products you'd like to promote?"

"No."

"Ah, but enough of business. Let's get on to business!" Alastor laughed at his pun, standing up to walk around his victim. "You're very nervous, chum!"

"Get real. This has got to be the trashiest- ACK-" Vox froze mid-sentence as Alastor pressed the tip of his cane on one of his antennae.

"Careful. Don't forget whose guest you are~!"

Vox growled in annoyance and squirmed a bit in Alastor's magic. He hadn't even bothered to wear his suit before running over, which he regretted as he lay on the floor in a button-up shirt and slacks. Looking down, his heart sank further: he was still wearing his slippers.

Alastor removed his cane, walking towards those slippers. "Still pissed I almost beat you that time~?"

"Uh… fuck you!" Vox snapped.

"Just saying~!" Alastor grinned.

Val looked up from the letter. "He stole my line. That bitch! He stole my goddamned line! I swear, I'm gonna-" he growled before storming off, leaving the paper on the table.

Velvette quickly ran over and skimmed, murmuring to herself. "'To whom it may concern,' blah blah, 'scheduled for a meeting,' yada yada, 'meet an associate at 6 to…'" She stopped and squinted at the page. "Hell does 'vouchsafe' mean?" Her brows furrowed as she connected the dots. Alastor must have sent this letter to lure Vox out, and Vox, thinking he was late for a meeting, ran from the tower without telling anyone. "That idiot!" she yelled, punctuated by Val throwing a wine glass against a wall two rooms down.

Alastor let a sinister chuckle escape his lips. "I think you have some things you should share with our dear audience! For instance, what exactly did you suggest I do seven years ago?" He waited patiently for the question to sink in.

"I- what?" Vox raised an eyebrow, not seeming to understand.

"Seven years ago, you came to me with a proposition. What exactly was it?"

The question finally clicked for Vox, but he scowled at the Radio Demon. He'd die before he gave that prick the satisfaction. He stayed silent, sparks shooting around his body.

"Suddenly, the chatter-box is quiet~! Such strange times we live in. Don't worry, folks, I know how to make our guests talkative~!" Alastor quickly used his cane to flick away Vox's slippers.

Demons looked away from their radios, wincing preemptively at the agony they were about to hear. Overlords felt beads of sweat rolling down their faces. Velvette leaned closer to the radio, pursing her lips, nervously fiddling with the pens on the table. Vox squeezed his eyes tightly shut, expecting Alastor to break his toes any moment now.

The moment stretched on. Vox tried to hold his breath, but when he couldn't, he finally exhaled slowly, and when he did, the Radio Demon struck.

“H-heehee- n-nohow wahahait, hohOld oHon a sehhec-!” Vox shot upward, looking down to see Alastor lying on his stomach, his legs swinging behind him as he gently traced one claw up and down Vox's sock. “T-theheere’s n-noho wahahy youhuhu're- c-cuhuhut ihihit ohuhut!”

"Hm, feeling a bit bubblier, are we~?" Alastor grinned impishly, slowly adding the rest of his fingers to scribble over Vox's feet. Now realizing what the Radio Demon had in store for him, Vox clamped his mouth shut, every muscle in his body straining to contain his laughter. An electric current had formed between his two antennae with the effort he was using.

Suddenly, Alastor's voice appeared next to his ear. "Go on, you little gigglebug, let it all out~!" Vox shot a glance sideways to see Alastor's shadow whispering to him. "Besides, we both know you're far too ticklish to resist~!"

"F-FuhUhuhUCK! YoUhuHUHU oHohOLD-TihIhIMEy PRiHihiHICK!!!” Vox snorted and arched his back as much as he could. Teasing was just too much!

Velvette's shoulders relaxed a bit. It didn't seem like Vox was in trouble… However, when she double-checked her phone, she saw that social media was blowing up about the CEO of VoxTek being tickled, which had unfortunate results on the company's stocks. At least she could rest a bit easier knowing that her friend- no, business associate was in no real danger. She was shaken out of her thoughts by another staticky shriek.

"Come now, I know you wanna tell all our lovely viewers about how you-"

"NoHoHOHO!" Vox shook his head, but his eyes bugged out when he felt tendrils squeezing at his hips.

"And now~? Let's change that channel~!"

"OKAHAHAY!! OKAhAhahAHAY! FuhUhuhUCK!!" Alastor slowed down but didn't stop the gentle tickles to keep Vox in a giggly state of embarrassment.

"Go on~! What did you propose to me all those years ago~?"

“T-thahat… thahahat youhuhu chahahange youhuhur nahahame tohoho Vahalahastor-!” Vox’s screen turned red as he remembered the thought.

Alastor cued the laugh track again. "That's right! Since you wanted me to become a member of your polycule so much-!"

“IT’S NOT A POL- EEHEHEHEEEK!” Vox's indignant shout was cut off by a squeal he couldn't contain when he felt Alastor's claws scribbling against his shoulder blades.

"Now, next question!" Alastor pretended not to hear the squealing mess on his recording studio floor. "When we fought those years ago, who won~?"

"NEhehHITHER!!" Vox desperately tried to weasel his way out of the question and his tickles, but with both, Alastor kept him pinned.

"Technicalities!" Alastor smirked and added shadowy tendrils to the back of Vox's knees as punishment for his insolence. "Nobody technically won, but only because…?"

“THEHEHE VEEHEEHEES!!!” Vox bluescreened as electric shocks flew off in every direction, making Alastor step back a bit and slow down again. “Theehehe Veeheehees cahahame in ahahand sahahahved meehehehe!”

"Right, since I was about to win~!"

Vox growled in frustration, trying to get his composure back. "Yeah, but how about that fight with Adam? Talk about- ACK-!" Vox was again cut off by the cane on his antennae, and he looked up into the face of the radio demon, with eyes in the shape of dials and horns extended. A radio hiss filled the studio, echoing out across the city.

Alastor waited a few moments before responding. "Many nasty rumors are going around about me, Vox, mostly thanks to you. Only one is completely and wholly true, and it's this." He bent down close to Vox's face, making him flinch away. "I do have a special appetite for the flesh of other demons. Vox, my good old friend, I need you to know I am famished at the moment."

"Y-yeah-? W-well-" Vox tried to think of something clever but came up short. "Y-you're not going to eat me, Al! I'm all wires. Wouldn't taste good!"

Alastor hummed in thought. "Perhaps you're right. I have a refined palette, and junk food would just ruin my mood." He smirked at the insulted stammering Vox let out before continuing. "However, I just can't resist a little taste~!"

"What? WaitwaitAlasTOHOHOHOR!!!!” Of all the things Vox expected from his worst nemesis, nothing could have prepared him for when Alastor bent down and began gently nibbling his teeth over Vox's ribs through his shirt. Oh, he would never hear the end of this from anyone.

"Final question," Alastor chuckled. "What is your biggest weakness~?"

'Oh, fuck, no, please don't make me say it!' Vox's mind raced. Was Alastor seriously going to-

The Radio Demon let out a raspberry on the middle of his ribcage, sending him into silent hysterics. Yep, Alastor was going for the kill… metaphorically.

"IHIHIHI'M!! IHIHIHIHIEAHAHAHAHA!!! AHAHAHAL!!!" Vox tried getting the words out, the words he knew would spare him from this hellish tickling. Alastor, mercifully, stopped and let Vox catch his breath, pointing the microphone on his staff to Vox's face. Vox sighed, feeling the built-in fans on his head whirring crazily to cool him down. He whimpered softly, defeated and made into a giggly mess, so he mumbled pathetically, "I'm deathly t-tihihicklish…"

"Yes, indeed he is, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you so much for joining us today. I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me! Although, I know Vox appreciated it the most~! Tune in next time for another exclusive interview~! Vox, will you be coming back on the show?"

"N-nohohoho…" Vox tried to hide his face in the tendrils but wasn't very successful.

"What a shame! We have so many more laughs to share, don't you think~? I'm sure we'll all hear from you again soon~!" With that, Alastor flipped a switch, and the studio's large 'ON AIR' sign turned off. Across the city, speakers began playing their regular music again, and the city's noise returned in all its chaotic, messy beauty once more.

The radio demon released his tendrils, and the businessman slowly and wearily rose to his feet. Every muscle shook, and he leaned against the wall for support. "This… This isn't over. You won't get away with this." He turned back and glared daggers at Alastor, sparks shooting off his hands.

"I have! Now, don't dawdle! You need to address the media~!" Alastor pointed out the window, and Vox turned to see a gathering crowd of reporters and camera crews assembling around the front of the hotel.

"F-fuck."

"Off you go~!" With a gentle push, Alastor sent Vox on the most embarrassing walk of his life as he stumbled through the hotel, his slippers in hand.

Charlie, face glued to the front window nervously, whirled around when she heard footsteps. "Oh! Please, come again soon!" She smiled and waved at the demon, who simply huffed.

"I won't," he said under his breath, pushing open the doors to be greeted by reporters shouting and snapping pictures. What a mess.

When he finally got back to V Tower, he got quite the earful from both Velvette and Valentino. However, when they were alone together, Velvette grinned and scribbled a hand over Vox's ribs to make her friend giggle. It was cute, and goodness knows she needed a stress reliever now and then. Maybe she had to thank Alastor sometime for unintentionally gifting her such precious information. At least Vox didn't lose a limb in there: only every last shred of his dignity.

#ler!alastor #lee!vox #hazbin tickles #hazbin hotel tickles #kayde wrote something woah #kayde's in a lee mood tag

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munsonkitten · 2 months ago

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read on AO3 | rated T | sick fic

Eddie groans on the other side of the room. He’s curled up on the recliner with a pillow hugged to his chest. Beside him, a half eaten bag of chips and an unopened Mountain Dew can sit on the side table. He groans again and shifts in his seat, drawing his knees up higher to his chest like he’s trying to crawl inside himself.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks from the couch.

A quiet grunt comes from the mess of curly brown hair covering his face. He unravels himself slowly, crawling out of the chair without bothering to put down the foot rest. The pillow gets left where it is, and the chips and his drink lay forgotten where they are.

“I’ll be back.”

Eddie disappears from the living room, and the bathroom door clicks close. He’s gone for a little while, and Steve’s about to get up to check on him when the bathroom door opens again, and then he hears Eddie step out and the bedroom door clicks shut instead. When Eddie finally comes back, he’s replaced his jeans for sweatpants, and he has one of his blankets wrapped around his shoulders.

“My stomach hurts,” Eddie says, his voice sounding miserable.

It’s a common occurrence at this point. Steve’s used to Eddie being so up and down — he has good days and bad days, and he eats too much junk food for his stomach to handle. Most days something hurts, and Steve wishes he could wrap Eddie up and keep him safe and away from the pain forever.

In the few months they’ve been together, and the year before that they were friends, Steve’s seen more stomach aches, headaches, painful periods, heartburn and other various ailments than he can count. And he knows Eddie can feel completely miserable over the smallest things — he doesn’t handle any of it very well, moaning and groaning and sighing while he looks for tums and ibuprofen and whatever else he needs.

Steve hums empathetically, sitting up in case Eddie wants the spot where he’s laying. “Can I get you anything?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Is it period cramps?”

Eddie shakes his head again.

“Good old fashioned tummy ache, then,” Steve says.

Eddie shrugs, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself. He turns around and goes into the kitchen, and Steve hears glasses clinking in the cupboard, and then the sink running. Eddie comes back with a glass of water, taking small sips as he comes toward Steve.

He places a damp hand on his forehead, and then his cheeks, cooling his pink skin. He might have a fever, too, Steve thinks. Something’s been going around, and it’s knocked out each kid one after the other this week — it was only a matter of time before Eddie or Steve caught it too.

“C’mere, kitten,” Steve says, opening up his arms.

He lays back down, gesturing for Eddie to come lay with him on the couch.

Eddie fits himself half on top of Steve, the rest of him slipping between Steve and the back of the couch. The blanket covers them, and Steve can tell Eddie took off his binder when he left the room, too. It’s rare for him to take it off during the day, even if it’s just them at home with no other plans, so he knows Eddie must really not be feeling good.

“Are you sure you don't want a ginger ale, or something?” Steve asks. He slides his hand up and down Eddie’s back, trying to soothe away the pain.

“Don’t have any.”

“I can run to the store.”

“No,” Eddie says. “Only cure is cuddles.”

“Is that so?” Steve snorts.

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m being attacked by my immune system. I’m sick, Steve. You would make fun of someone for having an illness? Shame on you.”

It’s obvious Eddie’s heart isn’t really in it. The teasing doesn’t feel like it usually does because Eddie just sounds tired. He burrows his warm face into Steve’s neck, and sighs, a quiet groan slipping out along with it.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, baby,” Steve murmurs.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. “Always so sweet to me.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll go get some stuff for you, okay?” Steve offers again.

Eddie just hums noncommittally and curls impossibly closer to Steve’s body. He’s snoring softly within the next few minutes, and Steve just turns his attention back to the TV, allowing Eddie to get some rest.

They lay there together for a long while, and Eddie comes in and out of consciousness ever so often. Sometimes he mumbles out quiet words of ‘don’t feel good,’ or laughs at jokes on the show they’re watching, and falls back asleep again.

There’s a warm swell of love in Steve’s chest. The fact that Eddie’s comfortable with him, even when he’s miserable like this, makes Steve fall in love with him even more.

Each nuzzle of Eddie’s warm face against his neck, and each curl of his fingers in Steve’s shirt, or each slide of his leg over Steve’s hip as he gets more comfortable — it all makes Steve feel like the luckiest guy on earth.

The afternoon slips away into evening, and Eddie dozes in and out for most of it. By the time Wayne’s about to leave for work, Eddie’s awake again and groaning in discomfort each time he shifts on the couch.

“I take it someone’s not feeling well,” Wayne comments as he leaves his bedroom. “You need anything before I go, bud?”

“No,” Eddie says, lifting his head just enough to talk to Wayne. He drops it back down with a heavy sigh when the fatigue decides he’s done enough. “Steve’s taking care of me.”

Wayne lingers for just another second, probably waiting to see if Eddie changes his mind, and then he says his goodbyes and tells them he’ll be back in the morning, like always.

Eddie mumbles out a goodbye and a ‘see you later,’ just as Wayne walks out the front door.

He uncurls himself from Steve’s body, then, and worms his way into a sitting position. Steve shifts to give Eddie more room, and raises an eyebrow at him.

There’s a sheen of sweat on Eddie’s face, his forehead glistening and his cheeks a rosy pink. He pushes the blanket off of them and sighs, head lolling back against the backrest of the couch.

“It’s too hot,” Eddie bemoans.

And it’s not, really. It’s winter, and there’s a chill in the air, even inside. Eddie’s like a furnace, though, and his forehead is warm when Steve lifts his hand to touch it.

“You might be really coming down with something,” Steve says.

“You should probably go home,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Steve frowns and shakes his head. “I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie sighs, loud and long. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t feel like I have to,” Steve says, simply. “I like taking care of you. Figured you’d have noticed that by now.”

Eddie drops his head down to Steve’s chest and moans quietly in his throat. His fingers curl around Steve’s shirt and he holds on, curled in on himself.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts after a few seconds. “Sorry. Just had, like, a wave of nausea.”

“At the thought of me taking care of you?” Steve jokes.

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, baby. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“Give me another second. Please.”

“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and he’s radiating feverish heat.

Whatever Eddie has is coming on quick because he was fine this afternoon when Steve first came over. That’s why Steve thought it was just a regular junk food induced stomach ache earlier, and that Eddie would be fine after some tums or a nap, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

He’s been around for headaches and stomach aches and other little ailments, but he’s never seen Eddie sick. Not like this.

Eventually Eddie uncurls himself from Steve, and unsteadily makes his way to his feet. There’s exhaustion in his movements, and Steve is quick to wrap an arm around his waist to help him. It might not be necessary, but Steve can’t help it — he wants to take care of Eddie in any way he can, and making sure he doesn’t pass out in the fifteen feet from the couch to his bedroom seems like a good place to start.

He gets Eddie situated in bed, fluffing up his pillows and making sure his blankets are within reach. Eddie takes one and pulls it up to his chin, rolling over to lay on his side. If he didn’t look so miserable, Steve thinks this would be really cute — Eddie being all cozy and cuddly always makes Steve smile and want to take a picture to save forever.

“I’m going to the store,” Steve says, regretting that he has to leave Eddie alone, but knowing he needs more than they currently have to get through this. “I’ll get you some soup and some ginger ale, okay? Anything else you might need?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just be quick.”

“Of course, baby.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to Eddie’s sweaty forehead, running his fingers through his damp hair, and then he finds his shoes and keys and leaves.

At the store, he picks out a few cans of soup and some ginger ale. He tries to remember what his mom would do for him when he was sick as a kid, and thinks of long nights with a cold towel pressed to his forehead, and a regularly refilled cup of ice for him to chew on. He doesn’t know how much ice Eddie has in his freezer, so he decides he’ll just buy a bag instead of worrying about finding ice trays or how long they’ll take to freeze.

His basket is full by the time he gets to the check out, and he knows he’s been gone for a lot longer than he meant to be.

He gets back to Eddie’s, and finds him still curled up in bed where Steve left him. Steve gives him a Gatorade and a cup of ice before leaving to put the rest of the groceries away.

“Here, try eating something,” Steve says gently, watching as Eddie’s big eyes give him a look that says he wants to do anything else. “Just a few crackers, okay? And I’ll make you some soup in a little bit.”

Steve leaves him to it, a napkin of saltines on his nightstand, and goes to wet a washcloth from the bathroom. He folds it a few times and moves Eddie’s bangs so he can lay it over his forehead.

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers, bringing a cracker to his mouth to take a few small bites. He finishes it and moves to lay down on his side, now holding the cold washcloth to his forehead.

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” Steve asks.

Eddie takes a few small sips of his Gatorade, and then a few more before answering. “I’m okay.”

With that, Steve climbs into Eddie’s bed, settling between his boyfriend and the wall. He pulls a magazine out of the crevice between the bed and the wall and flicks it open to where he left off the last time he was here.

“You’re supposed to be cuddling me,” Eddie huffs, looking over his shoulder at Steve with as playful a look he can muster. “It’s the only cure.”

“How could I forget?”

Steve puts his magazine back, and turns on his side so he can spoon up behind Eddie. His hand settles gently on his stomach, rubbing up and down in a way he hopes is soothing for him.

It’s pretty likely, Steve thinks, that he’s going to get sick soon, too. This stomach bug has wiped out most of their friends at this point, and being this close to Eddie means it’s definitely going to jump to him next.

He finds that he doesn’t really care. There’s no place he’d rather be right now, and there’s no way in hell he’s leaving Eddie to ride this out on his own.

“So sweet to me,” Eddie murmurs sleepily. It isn’t the first time he’s said it today.

Steve presses a kiss to the back of his warm neck. “Get some rest, baby.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Tired.”

Sleep tugs at Steve, and he lets himself succumb to it, Eddie held safe in his arms.

(please leave kudos on AO3 <3)

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #sick fic #trans eddie #my fics #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve/eddie #stranger things #trans eddie munson

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myillicitaffair · 10 months ago

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One of your girls part two | Carlos Sainz Jr

Summary: after a fateful outcome, Carlos wants to fix what he unintentionally broke.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, angst, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, small description of throwing up, cheating, mentions of sex, messed up dynamics, slight swearing.

Notes: second part of this fic. i also wanted to say i’m currently taking request, to anyone who might be interested xx.

Credits: the gif used belongs to @neymarhamilton ‘s tumblr account, so all credits belong to them. this part, just like the one before, is inspired by the song “one of your girls” by Troye Sivan.

1.8k

SIX MONTHS AGO:

A chilly night welcomes my friend group as we make our way through a prestigious and crowded restaurant situated in the heart of Madrid.

Being born and raised in Spain´s capital city, the girls now walking into the facilities have been by my side my whole life; faith brought us together our first day of school, just three frightened little kids trying to survive elementary.

I like to believe that we complement each other, even if we hadn´t met all those years ago, life would have found a way to connect us.

A girl’s night out is a rare occurrence between us; always being on the shy side, we very much prefer staying in, drowning ourselves in sweet treats while marathoning our comfort romcoms.

The reason why we´re summoned tonight is quite simple… my very first broken heart.

You see, in an attempt to lighten the mood, my friends brought us to an extremely exclusive eatery, one where we clearly didn´t fit in. The difference was quite notorious, surrounded by leggy models and their handsome companions, I quite frankly begin to wonder why I ever agreed.

With a deep breath, I straighten my back and let the hostess remove my coat. “In for a penny, in for a pound” I think with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.

As we´re carried to our spot, I try and take the essence of the place in. I start noticing its eccentric décor, dim lights brightening the burgundy walls, leather booths scattered all over the classy tile floor.

What makes an ordinary dinner such a big success? Its bizarre modality.

Our table is filled with strangers, completely engulfed in their different conversations. The main reason for my friends to take us to this unconventional location was exactly this; the inexorable need to engage in conversations with foreign people.

The first round of dirty martinis arrives as the last costumers take their places next to me, with a lousy cheer I pour the drink down my throat, feeling its pleasant burning down my body, warming me up, making me forget.

“Easy there tiger”- the man sited by my side chuckles, gesturing towards my empty glass.

I take a moment to wander across his features. Thick eyebrows, big brown eyes, plump lips. Definitely attractive, exactly what I need.

A smile creeps up my face, the wires in my brain getting to work.

I notice an elegantly worn designer shirt hugging his chest, his forearms resting against the wooden surface, his attentive stare trying to read my thoughts.

“And you are?”- I condescendingly tease him.

“Carlos”- his hand travels to mine, embracing me with his warm- “Carlos Sainz.”

The subtle body hair covering his fist tickling my naked skin, igniting a fire deep inside me.

And in that moment, I simply knew there was no getting out, not anybody else as long as he kept staring at me like this, eating me raw with his gaze.

That was the first night I ever came back home with him.

————

FOUR MONTHS AGO:

Carlos is away for the weekend, oceans separating us, palpable distance every time he races through my mind.

I try convincing myself It’s the sex I miss, the obvious physical attraction, the invisible force that pulls us towards the other, the feeling of his warm skin being impossibly closer to mine.

Truth being told, I’m sitting immovable on my bed, nervously waiting for a call.

I can’t help but recall his soft locks intertwined with my fingers, his tongue inching towards my neck, how he never fails to make my blood boil with a simple grin.

My phone brings me out of my daydreams, screaming for attention as a call enters it. His name glistening on the screen, filling me with pure bliss and forcing me to hold my giggles.

Acting like a schoolgirl with a crush while being a full-grown adult… how pathetic!

Two rings go by before i pick up, bitting my bottom lip to keep my voice calm as if I wasn’t desperately clinging to it seconds ago.

“Gorgeous, you got a minute to spare?”- he asks, clear amusement in his tone, abusing the charm he knows he has.

“That depends, Carlos, who’s asking?”

I’m gobsmacked at how composed I sound, nowhere near how I actually feel.

My knuckles turn white from grasping my sheets.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you miss me”- his smile visible through his speech.

My heart skips a beat, can his words be revealing my true feelings?

“Oh honey, keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night…”

I’m met with his scandalous laugh filling the line, raising my pulse until it’s beating on my ears.

Everything stops, everything keeps going.

I close my eyes in acknowledgement, being forced to admit what i’ve been denying ever since I met him.

Oh, how screwed I am!

———

TWO MONTHS AGO:

The music rumbles at the disco, throbbing on my skin with its intensity.

Being dragged to a hip party, my friends and I are bundled up in the comfort of our own group, dancing between ourselves.

As I rock my body to meet the pulsating rhythm, I embrace Carlos’s presence behind me, tightly grabbing my waggling hips.

He presses himself into me and I rub against his growing erection, purposely torturing him. His kisses start straying while sucking visible red marks into my neck.

His penetrating cologne invades my nostrils, clinging into my bare skin like a golden tattoo.

The mix of the alcohol I insisted on chugging and his hands shaping my whole body becoming intoxicating.

A foreign touch on my shoulder makes me open my eyes, leaving me to face my friend staring at me like i’ve grown a second head.

“You’re coming with me”- she pronounces as she drags me away from Carlos, who snorts in disbelief.

“What? Why?”- I ask as i’m forced to take a seat at the bar.

“Have you gone mad? You two were literally dry humping each other in the middle of the crowd!”- She hisses worriedly, forcing me to drink the water bottle she bought for me.

As she sits next to me, I prepare myself for the lecture she’s about to impart me, letting my eyes wonder across the dance floor.

I catch a glimpse of Carlos standing against a wall, hemmed by complete darkness, sometimes interrupted by one of the dj's lights.

When the spotlight lands on him, I start noticing the delicate hands hugging his broad shoulders, the almost nonexistent distance between him and the blonde caressing his cheeks.

Bile climbs up my throat, threatening to be ejected thanks to the scene before me.

Her lips all over his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt with lipstick.

Realizing i’m not paying an iota of attention to her, my friends follows my gaze stumbling across the sequence.

Effortlessly, she yanks me away from the enclosed space and into the garden.

Without being able to stop myself, I empty the contents of my stomach into the ground, constantly replaying the flashbacks of their sensual dance.

“Everything’s okay now, love”- My friend states while caressing my tangled up hair. Her fingertips come into contact with my cheeks, brushing my tears away.

Sobs are quick to scape my lungs, becoming more and more erratic as I imagine the second by second unfolding inside the disco.

———

PRESENT:

After running away from Carlos’s house, in the middle of a Madrilenian night, I’m fast to hide into the loneliness of my apartment.

I can’t even find comfort in blaming him as I was the one to agree with our “no exclusivity policy”, believing I could make it work.

How stupid of me to think I would be capable of not being trapped into his nets.

Clearly the only solution I can possibly come up with is crying it out, and that’s how I found myself in this situation; puffy eyes, completely ruined mascara, quivering eyes from shedding way too many tears.

Could I have been more stupid? I can’t even resonate one good reason why I would ever accept what he’s willing to offer me while wanting him in his entirety.

My determination is easily devastated as desperate fists bang against my door.

“Please, open up”- A too familiar voice implores from outside the apartment.

“I don’t ever wanna see you again”- I manage to scream through whimpers.

“I beg of you, please let me in! I swear I can explain.”

Standing right on the other side of the door, I feel my hand toying with the doorknob, trying to determinate whether or not to listen to his pleas.

“There’s nothing to explain, Carlos!”- I say, above a whisper, my voice to fragile for anything else.

“There’s been a while since i’ve been with anyone else, alright? Not since all I could think about was you!”

An unbreakable silence fills the hallways of the building, only the sound of his pantings and heavy breathing interrupting the stillness.

Without much hesitation, I open the hinges separating us.

Clearly, I was nowhere near prepared for the view before me; his full brown eyes now shimmering with unshed orbs, accumulated in his tear ducts.

“How about the girl from the voicemail?”- I ask, almost scared to find out this is all a product of my imagination.

“I know what that seemed like, but I promise you it’s not what you think!”- he says, piercing me with his gaze- “That was my ex girlfriend. She has a hard time letting go of me, even though there’s been more than a year since we’ve last been together. I never answer her calls and that’s why she’s getting more and more desesperate.”

Everything around me stops just to listen to his next words, my heart betting so out of control he might even hear it.

“Back at my apartment you told me you were enamored by me, well, there’s no use in trying to deny i’m in love with you”- he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear- “so much it’s physically painful, it’s all I can think about.”

My brain turned into mush as his confession sinks in. I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous the idea seems to me; the man I love, probably the only one i’ll ever love, stating that my feelings are reciprocate.

A sigh leaves my parted lips as a quiet tear runs down my face.

“I know i’ve made my mistakes and believe me when I say i’ll regret them every minute i’m on this earth, but I promise you, that if you give me the chance, i’ll make it up to you until my dying breath”- his voice sounds shaky, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of him.

I don’t think I ever reacted as fast as now, jumping into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Little giggles leave both of our mouths at the ridiculous situation.

“I love you”- He murmurs, muffled by the kisses he’s pressing against my checks.

“I love you too”- I answer back, with our bodies still entwined.

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