#dirty little secret
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Dirty Little Secret
ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader
ꕥ Warnings- MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - Soft Toji!! This chapter-mostly just fluffy cuteness, some oral and pregnant sex
ꕥ Word Count- this chap- 5k
ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.
Chapter 12 - Masterlist - Playlist
Chapter 13
Three months later
About six months along
You stare at yourself in the mirror, grimacing as you touch your tummy, tracing three long silvery stretch marks, turning this way and that, you’re getting big already, just your tummy and nothing else really, aside from a fullness to your breasts. Breasts your annoying fiance constantly wants to grab, touch and suck on, you are dressed in a tank top and Toji’s sweats, your new favorite things.
“Doll, you’re taking forever, you good? Sick or anything?” Toji asks from outside the bathroom door, and you sigh, stepping out and frowning. His eyes immediately go to your tummy, his big hands on it, as he leans down and kisses you. “Fuck you look so sexy.”
“Toji I look like a fucking watermelon! A blob! And look.” You point then, feeling tears in your eyes at your stretch marks, and Toji scoffs, leaning down on his knees now, looking up at you and kissing your tummy. “No, it’s-”
“Beautiful, doll. Look at you.” He’s kissing up your stretch marks, as you brush back his hair, all sweaty from his workout, sticking to his tanned forehead.
“No, you’re an Insta Baddie and I’m a whale.” He snorts then, you watched Toji post another picture and get another 10k likes, fuck he’s bad at pictures too, imagine if these women saw him forreal?
You both had been on several dates and women were thirsty for him, but Toji only has eyes for you, and you don’t get it, because your fingers are swelling and your tummy is so big. He’s more on you than ever, if that’s possible, constantly trying to touch you, suck on your nipples, trying to get you to ride him, but you’re so insecure as you get further along.
“You’re sexy as fuck. Keep talking shit about yourself and I’ll not let you cum tonight.” You tremble a bit, because fuck you’re always horny.
“Mmm, we have Megs, Yuji and Nobara coming for dinner, you know. You need to help me find something pretty.”
He chuckles as he stands, big hands still on your tummy. “Doll, I sure ain’t picking outfits, got me soft enough like a lil bitch.”
“Oh please!” You pout, and he scowls, dark green eyes narrowing.
“Nah, ya got enough clothes, brat. Go pick em or greet em in this.” He grins, yanking on your sweatpants (his sweats!?)
“Ugh, no! Fine, mean old man. Ow!” Toji pinches your nipples then, sensitive as fuck, making you gasp. “Dick! Let go!”
“Don’t like your attitude.”
“Don’t like yours!”
“Baby got you so angry, swear to god.”
“You wanted one!”
“Yes I do!” He’s cupping your face then, slamming his lips down, and you feel yourself get so wet, moaning as he grabs you so tight, until he feels the baby kick his torso, and he looks down, laughing so soft, a beautiful grin on his stern face. “Oh my god… well hello baby.”
You giggle then, unable to keep an attitude when your baby kicks once more, now on Toji’s big palm. “She’s angry with you, Toji.”
“She’s gonna be a brat like you.” You just grin, as she does a somersault inside you, and kicks your rib, making you wince. “See?”
“Fuck you, Toji.”
“Fuck me huh?” He scowls again, done with your attitude quite clearly, and turns you, bending you over the kitchen table, sliding down your sweats and smacking your backside.
“Ow!” You bite your lip, thighs shifting as the movement makes you so wet, and Toji smirks at you as you look back. “Gonna smack your pregnant wife!?”
“Fuck yeah I am. Look how big that ass is getting-”
“Hey fuck you! Ah!”
“I like it, lemme enjoy. Mm, these handprints.” Toji smacks you gently, it stings a bit but nothing like he’d do before you started showing more. He acts ‘rough’ but he really takes it too easy, too worried to hurt the baby. “So slutty, you like it huh Ma?”
“Mmm, shut up. Ngh!” Toji smacks your pussy, making you spread your thighs for more, praying your baby will stop kicking, and she finally does, so you can focus on how good it feels as he runs a rough finger through your folds.
“Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you. Be bad and you can just get licked everywhere but that clit.”
“Mmm, I’ll be good!” You whine, Toji has been loving to lick your pussy all over, avoiding your clit to torture you when you’re bad, until he has you a damn mess. “Toji, can’t stand like this long…”
“Oh shit, c’mon.” He slides up your sweats now, picking you up with ease still, and you’re kissing his hot, firm lips, so hungry for him. He’s got you on the bed now, sitting on the edge, kneeling between your legs. “How ya wanna do it, doll? I never know what’s good, you’re so bitchy so much.”
“Mmm… I’m sorry.” You blink back tears and he frowns.
“Don’t say sorry and shit. I knew you’d be the bitchiest pregnant girl, and I still fuckin did it.” You giggle now, and he sighs. “Fuck these mood swings.”
“Ugh I know! Don’t know if I’m sad, horny, hungry or happy.” He kisses your thighs over your sweats, hands rubbing your tummy.
“I know what ya are, doll.”
“Hmm, what’s that?” You whisper, caressing his strong jawline. He kisses your palm then kisses your belly button.
“Gorgeous as fuck. That’s what. Prettiest brat there is.” Your lips are trembling now, as you sniffle, then you yank him up by his broad shoulders.
“I fucking love you, Toji” He’s kissing you as he’s standing, bent at the waist, as you lean back and he’s caressing your breasts with his big hands.
“I love you, mean little brat. Gonna give me a heart attack.”
“Take baby aspirin, old man. Fuck!” He pinches your nipple with a scowl, and you grin up at him then. “You’re the most handsome man there is, Toji, I swear to god. I’ll never, ever want anyone but you.”
He blinks at your sincerity, moaning and slipping his hand down your sweats, rubbing your clit, soaked already, as he studies you, pulling your hair gently at the base of your neck. “I’ll never want anyone, how could I? Look at you, fuck you’re so wet f’me too ain’t ya baby?”
“Always, always.” You whisper, then you’re grinding on his hand as two fingers slide in.
“You’re so wet doll, oh my god.” He moans, playing with you, and you hear it, the sounds of that lewd squishing in the room.
“Want you, please Toji.” You plead now, and he’s letting you undress him, as you eagerly take him in your mouth, lapping up the salty precum at his tip, letting it coat your mouth now. He’s huffing, his abs flexing as his hips thrust, not fully, Toji is so careful even though his hands are shaking.
Your eyes look up at him, and he looks down with his lidded gaze, his teeth bared just so, and you suck him harder, lashes low over your dazed eyes. “You’re such a good girl f’me, for once huh?”
“Just once.” You tease, flicking your tongue and stroking him, before he’s slipping down your top, moaning at your breasts, so full and bouncy, and you pull his cock closer, nodding, letting him stroke his cock between them.
“Holy… oh my… look at ‘em. Look at em s’pretty.” He’s a mess now, as you hold your jiggly tits together for him, as he’s fucking his thick, veiny cock between them, hands sliding down the sides of them, making you shiver. “Lemme eat you, please.”
“I can’t see you though!” You pout, and he laughs, breathless.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t see your pretty pussy. Don’t deny a man his meal, damn brat.”
“Oh fine but I miss looking at you!” He pulls you by your now bare thighs, diving down as you lay back on the bed, legs dangling over the edge and on his strong shoulders, feeling his muscles tense as he lavishes you with his tongue, and fuck it feels so good, you’re screaming out. “T-Toji!”
He’s smiling against you, you can’t see his damn eyes, all you see is your huge tits and tummy, your eyes closing as you try to reach down, but he takes a hand and holds your wrist, squeezing and giving you just enough roughness. You’re whimpering as he’s drinking you up, fuck you hear him sucking your wetness, exhaling and moaning on you.
“It tastes even better.” He whispers, sliding a thick digit in your soppy little cunt, which sucks it in, as he watches it disappear so pretty between those puffy lips. He’s sucking your clit into his mouth now, lavishing the tiny pearl with his tongue as he vibrates it by groaning.
“Toji!” You scream out, thighs threatening to close, but he sucks right through it, as you cum so messy all over his face and his hand, gushing liquid, you feel it hot and wet down your ass now. “Oh my god.”
“Would think your water broke, cum so much, lil slut.” You gasp, but he’s leaned up and now you see that handsome, rugged face you love, and it’s half covered in your slick.
“Get in there, please, jerk!” He is rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds now, leaning just a bit over you, as you swipe back his inky black locks, and he pushes in so easy. You’re whining at the stretch, and you can’t stop it, you cum again when he’s hitting that cervix, and he grins.
“So easy, brat- oh fuck, stop tightening up!” He’s tense over you, and you grin as you get him back, and you feel him so good, you moan, cumming still, getting him so wet he’s slippery, even as tight as you are. “Oh my… you better not….”
“Gonna bust fast old man?” He gently smacks your face as you giggle.
“I will beat this ass when you’re ready again. Fuck you so hard.” He says, putting just enough pressure now in your pussy, as he’s so careful to keep any weight off your tummy, and you cling to him, around his neck, biting your lip and cheeks flushing. He sighs then, pausing.
“Wh-what? I’ll loosen up. Don’t stop.” You whine, rolling your hips up, and he shakes his head, brushing your hair back gently, then his thumb brushes a rounding cheek.
“Nah, just beautiful is all.” You feel those tears back, slamming his lips to yours as he fucks into you, steady and slow and so good, until you’re both falling apart, and he’s pulsing inside of you, as you’re throbbing from your aftershocks. “Gonna fill you up s’good, doll.”
“Fill me up, please Daddy.” At that Toji cums, and he cums hard, those ribbons of that white cum soaking into your walls, coating them, as he slows, kissing your face, your breasts, hands rubbing your tummy.
“You’re so sexy, fuck, doll. Like this?” He’s eased out now, kissing your tummy, and you exhale, trembling and trying to come to, nothing about sex with Toji was anything but mind blowing.
“I love you so much.” You say softly, as he melts your insecurities away, this gruff man with his nasty ass jokes and lewd looks, he makes you feel so beautiful even when you’re so down. There is no being down when you’re with Toji Fushiguro, he will never let you be.
“I love you, lil Mama.” You smile against his lips as he eases you up, and then he’s gone for a moment, back with a washcloth, cleaning you up.
“Does it bother you, the… um hair? It annoys me.” You grumble, and he smirks, shaking his head.
“Kinda like it, doll. Do you not?”
“No I don’t. But I can’t see it or reach it!”
“Need me to shave ya?”
“Please.” He sighs.
“I think it’s cute.” He’s rubbing the hair you can't see on your mound. “But whatever ya want, brat.”
“Yay!”
******
You are sitting at dinner now, that you and Toji had cooked together, and Megumi pulls out a seat next to him for you, patting it. You sit down gratefully, leaning your head on his shoulder for a moment, and catch Toji’s soft smile as Megumi touches your tummy, and gasps when he feels it, the bump of your baby girl saying hello, his usually serious features softened.
“Oh my god… It's doing that now!?” You giggle, nodding as you take his hand, pressing it a little higher on your bump.
“You haven’t seen me in like two months, it was hard to tell then. Now she’s vicious, I swear.” Megumi smiles just a bit, dark lashes lowering as he looks at your tummy in your pretty white sundress.
You remember when he found out.
3 months ago
“You’re what!? Dad I swear to god, the fuck!” Megumi was furious as you both had told him, inviting him to Toji’s home right after leaving Shiu.
“Kid…”
“Don’t kid me. She’s my age. I wouldn’t want a brat, tch.” He pouts and looks at you seriously. “You can’t want a kid yet.”
“Megs, I do… I am really happy. I know it’s weird, but I want this.” You look at him now, and he frowns, looking at his dad again, then you, rolling his eyes.
“God, don’t do that puppy dog eye thing.”
Toji chuckles. “She gets everything that way.”
“Bet she does.” Megumi rolls those dark green eyes, and you keep pouting, eyes wide, until he sighs, touching your still flat tummy. “Do you really want a baby?”
“I do, and I promise I’ll be the best mom.” You touch his hand over yours, and he smiles just a bit finally as he looks down. “You’ll have a little sister or brother!”
“That sounds annoying. A stupid kid, ugh.”
“Hey!” You poke at him now, and he smirks. “You’re such a little shit, Megs!”
“He gets that from me.” Toji ruffles Megumi’s perfect spikes, and he smacks his hand away, grimacing in disgust, but he’s still touching your tummy, his black brows drawing together.
“Hmm. If you’re happy?”
“I am Megs.”
“The fuck, about me kid?” Toji says, standing and crossing his thick, banded biceps, and Megumi snorts.
“Again, if you’re happy.” He says to you, making you grin as Toji fumes.
“How does my kid like you better than me?” He grumbles, and you stick your tongue out, as Megumi’s long fingers slip off your tummy.
“Everyone likes me better, Old man.” Megumi grins at that, and Toji loses his shit, but Megumi is looking at you contemplatively. “What is it, Megs?”
“You look so happy. Glowing.” You blush now.
“I am happy, I really am.”
“Then… fuck it. I guess I’m gonna be a big brother.”
“Yay!” You smack a kiss on his cheek, and Toji smiles at the two of you, devious fucking smile, that makes you both look at him, wide eyed.
“And you’re gonna have a stepmom.”
“Yuck!”
Present- Toji’s POV
Things absolutely changed that day, now Megumi is so sweet, as Yuji and Nobara take turns feeling your tummy, and Toji is making everyone plates, stealing glances at his pretty fiance. One he can’t wait to make his wife, but you’re waiting until after the baby for that, you do have a pretty little diamond ring on your finger that glints in those lights now.
He watches his son laugh next to you, as you carry his daughter, and fuck if you don’t make him a sappy ‘old man’ damn brat that you are. As you’re all flushed and beautiful, glowing so bright, your eyes sparkling as you talk to your best friends. Fuck he’s a lucky man, you’re a goddess to him, you always were, but now you’ve got that tummy, those curves, in that pretty white dress?
You look like Venus herself.
He would probably just call you a sexy lil doll, but he does think you’re his goddess, damn you make him corny. If someone told Toji Fushiguro he’d be such a sap he would never believe it. Megumi feels the baby kick again, and Toji’s heart finally feels full, this void he’d had for so long since he had Megumi was filled, he was so lucky the kid wants to have him in his life.
He’s so lucky he has you three, you, Megs and the baby, even your friends who drive him insane, he just wants you happy. And as you peek at him, sipping on some sparkling water, and you look at him with such love in your pretty eyes, that brilliant smile, it’s like you’re clenching his heart with your tiny little hand.
How was Toji ever lucky enough to have you, and to have a family like this? After fucking up so much, after being just a bum for so long, how has Toji finally got his shit together, finally got a fiance. A beautiful one, a sweet one (lets be real, you’re kind of mean as fuck and bitchy, but Toji loves that) sweet when you want dick, but how’d he even get lucky enough for that?
He peeks and sees Shiu has texted him, and smiles a bit at the phone as he’s grabbing more drinks for everyone. Shiu still hates Toji, and Toji doesn't blame him, but he’s a good damn dad, better than Toji was with Megs. He hopes he can be that good of a dad to your baby, he damn well will try.
He’s picturing a pretty little daughter now, and he can’t stop the stupid smile on his face.
*****
3 months later- Labor day
“Toji Fushiguro, I hate you and your big ass head! Ow fuck!” You scream, holding his hand so tight he’s wincing, scowling right back at you.
“You got the big ass head, blame your damn dad!”
“Excuse me!?” Shiu shouts, looking up from where he has his face covered, terrified as your contractions get quicker. “You got a big ass head Toji!”
“Fuck yes he does. Ugh! You suck so bad I can’t do this!” You’re sobbing at the pain, and Megumi stands then, shaking his head.
“Can’t do it. Dad, be supportive, fuck. Shiu, c’mon… coffee?” Megumi suggests, and Shiu jumps up immediately.
“Cocaine maybe, fuck.”
“Dad!” You scowl and he grimaces.
“You’re scary kiddo. You deserve her to break your hand, Toji.” Shiu says then, and they run out, leaving you with your mean, big headed fiance.
“Brat too tiny can’t have a kid right?”
“Fuck you I can!”
“Mmm, sure you can.”
“Toji I’ll never have one again, I swear ugh!” You squeeze his hand again, screaming out, as the doctors rush in, and they take your vitals.
“She’s not dilating, we can’t keep going much longer, it's been ten hours.” The doctor says, and Toji frowns then, holding your hand tightly.
“Shit.”
“Shit, shit what!?”
“C section, Megs was one too.”
“Because your big ass head, oh fuck you!” He scowls.
“You’re a damn brat!”
“You’re a dick, old man!”
“Ahem. We can give it a little longer, but we really need to get you prepped in case. We can up the pitocin and try that if you want? What’s best for you mom?” They ask you then, and you are glaring right at him, as he is you, then his face changes, as he holds your tummy, and kisses you, right in front of blushing nurses and that doctor, sighing against your lips.
“Scared, Toji.” You admit, and he nods then, head resting on yours, as you feel your heart race.
“It’ll be fine, doll. I got you. Right here with you, yeah?”
You kiss him back, hands entangling in his hair, so messy from how much he’d been messing with it. “Right here with me.”
******
“Oh my god! I’m a grandpa!” Shiu is holding your beautiful little girl later on, as you’re a sweaty, exhausted mess, having this baby was not easy, thanks to Toji’s big ass head, you’d had a lot of trouble, but she was here, no c section thank goodness, and perfect. And you were safe and sound. Your heart aches as you see your dad smiling so big.
“She’s beautiful.” You whisper, as Toji sits next to you in the bed, holding up water for you to sip, smiling softly.
“You did so good, doll. She’s beautiful just like you.” He whispers, kissing your sweaty forehead, and you smile tremulously, as you sip the icy water, sighing.
“She has your eyes, Toji.” You say then, as now Megumi holds his little sister, and you watch the usually serious Megumi melt as he looks at her.
“She’s so beautiful. Hey little sis.” Megumi cooes softly, and you melt even more, as Toji is stroking your hair back, sighing.
“I’m so fuckin happy.” He murmurs in your ear, and you touch his face gently, smiling up at him, eyes glimmering with tears. “Ya made me so happy, doll, I don’t know how to even describe it. Heart… fucking hurts.”
“Aw, you’re such a sap, old man.” You tease, and he narrows his eyes, but you peck a weak kiss on his stubbled chin. “I’m kidding. Toji I couldn’t be happier.”
Megumi hands Toji your baby girl again, and he grins so big, as she grabs one of his big fingers with her tiny little fist. The sight of your beautiful little girl in Toji’s big arms makes you wanna have another damn baby, even after all this, even after being uncomfortable this last month and having a hard time. You’d give this man anything, when you watch him light up.
He gently hands you her, your sweet little baby Mio. She opens those dark green eyes, just like Megs and Toji, but she has your hair color, and your nose, you’re tapping her nose gently, watching her little mouth form into an O, and you smile softly as your heart swells. You have never felt this, this love, you love Toji so much but this is so different, it fills you with so much emotion you feel them spilling over through your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks.
“I love you, little Mio. So, much. I’m your mommy!” You whisper, sitting up with Toji’s help further, as she blinks those beautiful eyes, and you put her forehead to your lips, inhaling her. “She smells so good!?”
“The baby smell.” Toji and Shiu say, and you smile at them both, as your dad comes and kisses the top of your head, then bends down and kisses Mio’s downy little head.
“Do you all still remember that? In like the fifties?” Megumi says, earning your giggle and their scowl.
“Brats.” Toji grumbles.
“Brats.” Shiu agrees, then taps Mio’s nose, and yours. “Look, that’s your nose alright, isn’t it? She’s so pretty like you.”
“Aw thank you dad, she’s even more beautiful.” You all coo over her, and soon Megumi and Shiu eventually leave, after saying their goodbyes. It’s you with Toji in the quiet room, holding your baby. You’re so tired, but so happy, your heart so full as you feel this contentment and excitement, as Toji is holding you to his side.
“Hi, sweetie, it’s your dad. Welcome to the world, little one.” You’re crying again, at how sweet he is. “Kept us waiting, had to make an entrance, huh?”
“Dramatic like me.” You giggle, and he grins, and you start to feel exhaustion hit, sighing as you lean into his side.
“You’re gonna be the best dad any little baby could have, you know.” Toji blinks a bit then, looking away, you watch that Adam’s apple bob as he gulps.
“I’m gonna do everything to try.”
“I know you will, I’m so happy you’re her dad.”
“You’re her mommy. And you’ll be the best. I love you, doll, fuck you’ve made me so happy.” He whispers, and you kiss him, as your baby begins to let out a cute little cry, then it gets loud, and you laugh a bit. “She’s gonna be so bratty, I’m screwed.”
“So screwed.” You agree, grinning, as Toji helps you pull your breast out, and he exhales, as you hiss a bit when you see the milk drops. “Ugh, feel like a cow!”
“It’s beautiful, doll. Don’t.” He says gruffly, and then he helps put your baby's little mouth on your nipple. She struggles to latch, her little fists punching you practically, with sharp nails. Toji chuckles. “She’s vicious, isn’t she?”
“Jesus, guess that’s what happens with us as parents. Ow! Mio!” You’re huffing, wriggling with discomfort as her gums bite down, then finally she latches, and sucks, her puffy cheeks moving as she drinks. Finally you ease, exhaling. “She’s got it!”
“She’s a pro, too. Ya alright doll?” He asks, brow furrowing, and you nod then, letting him kiss your temple as your little girl eats.
“It feels so weird, but I’m good. It will take practice, the nurse said.”
“You’ll do great, already know it. Gonna be the best at this parenting shit, both of us, won’t we?” He nudges you with a grin, and you feel yourself getting so sleepy, feeling such warmth. You nod.
“We will do such a good job. I know it. She’s everything now.” You caress her cheek again, love bursting from every part of you.
“You’re both everything to me.” He corrects, and then sighs. “And Megs, of course, he was so happy wasn’t he?”
“He was oh my god! I knew it.”
“We’ll have him watch the kid so we can go fuck-”
“Toji!” You gasp, and he just grins shameless and lewd. “Knew you were being too nice, old perv.”
“Old, knocked you the fuck up. Should do it again.”
“Fuck no!” You stick your tongue out, as your baby now is asleep, no longer sucking, and you smile at her little face, a pretty gummy smile “Oh my god!”
“She’s milk drunk. Megs got like this.” You giggle then, looking up at him, seeing his dark green eyes, the same color as your daughter’s eyes, so lit up.
“Was Megumi a serious kid?”
“I didn’t know him well enough.” He frowns, and you sigh.
“I’m sorry-”
“Nah, doll, it’s okay. I’ll know everything about her, little Mio, I swear. I’ll never leave your side.” His words break your heart into pieces, you hear the pain in his voice as he takes his daughter in his arms.
“Toji you will do great. I know it.” You say softly, and he nods, as you wipe a tear, making him scowl.
“Ain’t crying.”
“Oh no, saw nothing.” He snorts, and you smile, as emotions run through you. “I love you, Toji.”
“I love you too, doll. So much.” He kisses your forehead, and then your baby’s head, and you lean into his side, watching him, feeling so content, as he whispers sweet nothings into her ear, and you’re so tired now you can’t keep awake.
“I’m gonna nap, okay?” You mumble, and he nods, easing off the bed.
“Yeah, sleep, I got her, doll. She’s okay.” And you doze off, feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling complete.
*****
When you wake up, you’re surprised to find it’s night, and the room is dimly lit, just the moon coming through the window, and the hospital lights are all off aside from a little one around your bed, casting a soft glow over everything. Toji’s still there, sitting in a chair beside the bed, holding your sleeping baby, looking down at her with a soft, loving smile on his face.
You sit up and he looks over at you, eyes tired but so, so happy.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired. Did I miss anything?” You ask nervously, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Nothin’. She’s just been sleeping like a rock. Like you, lazy little thing.” He smirks, and you grin at his words, watching as he adjusts her in his arms.
“Am not lazy, just had your baby!”
“Mmm, you were snoring though.”
“Was not!” He grins, and places your baby down in the little bassinet now, all swaddled up. “Come here.” You whisper, and he stands, stretching his long limbs and then he’s leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, as you kiss back, feeling that warmth spread through your body.
Toji sits in the bed, laying on his side, pulling you to him, eyes drinking you in. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, doll. You’re a mommy now.” He whispers, stroking your messy hair, and you snuggle to him, his hard, warm body, where you feel so safe, as he strokes your back up and down in the little hospital bed.
“Thank you, for everything. For being here with me, for being with me. Toji I can never imagine being without you.” You say then, and he exhales, gulping, his eyes lidded and tired like yours.
“Where else would I be, doll, but right here?” He kisses you again, and you hold onto him, feeling the love in his arms, so strong and safe, as you feel this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Toji slips a hand to your breast then, and you squeak, earning his chuckle. “What, they’re hot.”
“You perv, I just had a baby!” You whisper, and he grins then, kissing down the side of your neck. “I feel gross!”
“Nah, you’re always sexy, even now. Enjoy that break you get for what, a couple weeks?” He nips your throat, and you gasp at it. How can he be such a hornball, damn old man.
“Like a month, fuck don’t do that.” He is kissing your neck again where he’d just bit, pulling back and smirking down at you, tiling your chin up and cupping your cheeks now.
“Enjoy that break, gonna knock ya up again.” You smack at him and he’s just grinning, white teeth stark against dark stubble.
“Will not, gonna tie those tubes.”
“Better not, brat.”
“Mmhmm! Now shut up, and lemme sleep. Snuggle me?” He smiles softer now, nodding and holding you tight against him, as your arms wrap his torso, and you feel sleep tugging at you again.
“Love you, lil doll.” He whispers against your hair.
“Love you, Toji.”
Final Chap Here
Kofi Link if you wanna buy me a coffee <3
ao3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/153013882
#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#jjk men#fushiguro toji#jujutsu toji#daddy toji#dirty little secret#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji x reader smut#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader
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Dirty little secret
Synopsis: Childhood best friends' relationship is strained when you drunkenly sleep with his new best friend. Chenle’s panic about y/n regretting their one night stand turns into a secret relationship. Just as you think everything is fine, you're faced with the ultimatum: “It’s either him or me.” or in other words: A small silly little pinky promise will destroy a friendship
Genre: friends to lovers, hidden romance, forbidden (not really) lovers??
Content Warnings: swearing, dreamies getting drunk, mention of getting blackout drunk, one-night stand (not described), turned more, ANGST with fluffy end, Jisung is a little shit in this, very vanilia and sweet smut.
Word count: 7k
a/n: sorry this was a bit later than i expected for it come out! a lot of stuff popped up this weekend :( ALSO I HAVE TO TAG @lowkeychenle IN EVERYTHING CHENLE RELATED SOOOO LOVE YAH <3
Teaser Taglist: @haechansbbg @bunnychui @theandypark @bigjugz03 @babbymochiiii @xrminarlert34
"Come on! You never miss a hangout," Jisung whined into the phone.
“They always end up with me getting drunk and sleeping on the dorm couch, no thanks,” you replied.
“This time it’s at Chenle’s house. You can even sleep call dibs on his spare bedroom!” Jisung reasoned.
“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You already knew the answer.
“Nope, see you later!”
Once Jisung ended the call, you had a moment to think. Great, you got yourself into another hangout. It’s not that you hate hanging out with the guys, but you've started to develop a little crush on Chenle.
He’s been extra flirty with you lately. It’s not because he likes you. He's been playful with everyone! Well, that's what you try to tell yourself.
But you can't like him! Jisung would go nuts. He was the one to introduce you to all the guys, promising you wouldn't like any of them when you were twelve. But it seems like Jisung has held you up to that silly pinky promise.
One time you told Jisung that Renjun's new haircut looked really good on him and he freaked out, claiming you were falling for him and it was against the “Bro code.” This made you confused because you’re pretty sure that's not what bro code is, but he looked very upset, so you didn't question it.
Now there is no way you will ever admit to liking Chenle. If he got upset with Renjun, you know he would be furious if you even flirted back with Chenle. That’s his best friend! He’s not the type to be happy about his boy and girl best friend dating. You're sure he’s told Chenle so you never took his flirting too seriously. But that didn't stop your heart from beating after every time he looked at you.
A group of guys yelled as soon as Chenle opened the door. “They’re already this rowdy,” you sighed, already coming up with excuses as to why you had to leave.
Chenle laughed at your disapproval written all over your face. “Stick by me, I swear I'm not as bad as them.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was literally the loudest one. You let out a “mmh” before walking around him to be greeted with a bunch of “Y/NNNNs.” You could definitely tell they started drinking without you by the way Donghyuck reached out to you with grabby hands.
“Already starting without me!” you grabbed an already-opened beer on the table and took a swig out of it.
“It's not our fault you're always late,” Jaemin teased.
“Sorry, I have a life.”
“Reading fanfiction?” Renjun giggled.
“Can’t believe I'm already getting attacked, I just arrived!”
“I told you to stick by me,” Chenle laughed.
“You're right. It’s me and you now… Let’s get drunk!” You smiled, grabbing another beer to give to Chenle.
You're glad you didn't have to wake up on a couch hungover. Waking up in a bed surrounded by the comfiest blanket wrapped around you felt like heaven. Not ever wanting to wake up.
You stretched to feel the coldness of the other side of the bed. But your leg hit another leg that wasn't your own. You don’t remember anything after Donghyuck’s karaoke challenge. Did someone sleep over too? Mark was supposed to pick up the guys and bring them back to the dorm… Maybe he forgot?
Moving your head to see who ended up passed out with you, you froze.
“WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON?!?”
Should you look? Should you not look? You slowly turn your head to check who you fell asleep with. Maybe you didn't hook up with one of your friends… Maybe you were just overheated and took off your clothes.
Turning over, you yelp in shock. Chenle is still sleeping next to you. Even worse, he’s shirtless, and you don’t really want to check under the sheets to confirm your suspicions.
But before you could panic any further, you noticed that Chenle was still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. You took a moment to calm yourself down and gather your thoughts. Maybe there was a logical explanation for this situation.
You carefully wiggled out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Chenle. As you grabbed your clothes scattered across the room, memories of last night started to flood back. The drunken laughter, the friendly banter, and the way all of the guys left. All you could remember was cleaning up the kitchen because you felt bad leaving it such a mess. Then Chenle's hands grabbed yours in protest and said he would clean it up in the morning. But instead of agreeing you tried to pull his hands away which caused him to press into you.
Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality you quickly threw your clothes back on and made your way downstairs. Needing some water because of how dry your throat felt. You didn't want to even think about why your throat hurt...
Once downstairs you can finally think about what the hell just happened. But no, life hates you. Instead, you were met with Mark washing dishes.
"Finally you woke up" Mark laughed before turning around and being met with a face he did not expect to see.
"Why did you come down from Chenle’s room?"
You blinked at Mark's question, trying to come up with a plausible response. "Oh, I just woke up and wanted some water," you stammered, attempting to act casual.
Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Water? Really? Because it looked like you were in quite a rush to get out of there."
You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for words. "I just... didn't want to disturb Chenle. He's still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."
Mark's eyes narrowed, studying your face. "Uh-huh. Sure." He seemed unconvinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he went back to washing the dishes.
You took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation and headed towards the kitchen table “What do I do Mark, I fucked up.”
Mark sighed, turned off the water, and dried his hands on a kitchen towel before looking at you with a serious expression. "Well, it depends on what you want. Did something happen between you and Chenle last night?"
You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Mark. "I don't remember much, but I woke up in his bed, and I think we hooked up. I have no idea what went down, and I'm panicking."
Mark sighed again, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, shit happens. People get drunk, things get blurry. Maybe nothing happened, or maybe something did. The important thing is to communicate with Chenle. Figure out what both of you remember and how you both feel about it."
"But what if he thinks it’s gross or something?" you worriedly questioned.
Mark shook his head. "Chenle is a good guy, and he knows how things can happen when everyone's been drinking. Just talk to him. Honesty is the key here."
Taking a deep breath, you nodded.
• ──────── •
Before you could process the situation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Chenle, struggling to pull on his hoodie and hastily reaching for his keys, descended in a rush of movement.
"Easy there, you going to hurt yourself" Mark teased, chuckling as Chenle glanced up with an expression of sheer panic.
"Mark, fuck! I messed up big time. Y/N's going to hate me, and she'll never want to see me again. I genuinely like her, and I've messed everything up," Chenle exclaimed, the urgency in his voice evident.
Mark raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with you. "Well, you might want to talk to her about that instead of assuming the worst," he suggested.
Chenle's eyes widened as he finally noticed your presence. "Y/N, I... I'm so sorry if I did something wrong. I don't really remember what happened, but I know we something did happen, and now I'm just freaking out," he rambled, looking genuinely distressed.
You took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Chenle, let's just talk about it, okay? I don't remember much either, but panicking won't help. We need to figure out what actually happened and how we both feel about it."
Chenle nodded, relief washing over his face. "Yeah, you're right. We should talk." He looked at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod.
“This is something you two have to figure out.” Mark grabbed his jacket and left.
As Mark left, you and Chenle sat down at the kitchen table, exchanging nervous glances. The awkwardness in the air was noticeable, but both of you knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't solve anything.
"Okay, so, let's try to piece together what happened last night," you suggested, breaking the silence.
Chenle nodded, his eyes focused on the table. "I remember the guys leaving, and you were helping me with the dishes. Then... things got a bit blurry."
You sighed, realizing that your memories matched his. "Yeah, I remember that too. But after that, it's all a blur. I woke up in your bed, and we're both... well, you know."
Chenle ran his fingers through his hair, looking frustrated. "I don't want things to be weird between us. I genuinely like you, Y/N. I just hope I didn't mess everything up."
You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his. "Chenle, I really like you too. Maybe we can start over?"
Chenle's eyes brightened at your words, a genuine smile forming on his face. "Yeah, let's start over. How about I take you to a restaurant and we can finish this conversation.”
“Are you asking me on a date!” You smiled.
Chenle grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, I am. I think we could both use a fresh start. We can go right now!”
You laughed and shook your head ‘no’ “We can go later, I have to get ready for it.”
“Oh…yeah ops” Chenle laughed standing back up “How about tonight?”
“Can’t wait a little longer?” You teased.
“Hell no! Not when it comes to you.”
You couldn't help but blush at Chenle's enthusiastic response. "Alright then, tonight it is. I'll make sure to be ready for our date."
Chenle grinned, his excitement contagious. "Perfect! I'll pick you up later.
• ──────── •
As you got ready for the date, you took extra care with your appearance. You wanted to make a good impression, to show Chenle that you were genuinely interested in exploring this connection further. You could already feel the butterflies in your stomach
The hours crept by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity as anticipation filled the air.
Finally, the moment arrived. Chenle looked exceptionally handsome in his casual attire, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He smiled warmly as he handed them to you, his eyes filled with genuine affection.
"You look…beautiful," he said softly, causing your cheeks to flush with a rosy hue.
"Thank you," you replied, feeling yourself becoming more at ease in his presence. "You look pretty amazing yourself."
Chenle chuckled and offered you his arm. "Shall we?”
You linked your arm with his, nodding with a smile. "Let's go."
The date with Chenle was everything you’d hoped for and more. The restaurant was a familiar place, a small little shop that you once mentioned wanting to visit before. The atmosphere was cozy and inviting, with wooden tables, soft cushions, and flickering candles that cast gentle shadows on the walls. Soft music played in the background, a soothing blend of piano and strings that set the perfect mood for the evening.
Chenle was charming from the moment he sat down, his eyes sparkling with excitement and if you didn’t know him well you could have missed the nervousness he expressed through his body language. He pulled your chair out for you, a sweet gesture that made your heart flutter.
“You remembered?” you asked, trying to sound casual.
“Of course I did,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been looking forward to taking you here.” You tried to keep your blush in check, but his smile made it impossible.
His earlier jitters seemed to fade as the night went on, replaced by genuine enthusiasm. He asked about your day, listened intently, and shared stories that made you laugh, his laughter infectious. It was clear he had put thought into every aspect of the evening, from the restaurant choice to the easy flow of conversation.
Throughout the evening, Chenle’s attentiveness and charm were evident. He complimented you effortlessly. “I know I already told you but you look absolutely beautiful,” he said sincerely.
“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “You’re not looking too shabby yourself.” You joked, earning a small laugh from him.
As the waiter brought your dishes, Chenle made a toast. “To a fantastic evening and getting to know each other even better.”
You clinked glasses. “To new beginnings.”
You both laughed together, “Was that too cheesy?” Chenle asked.
You shook your head no, “This is just crazy, I didn’t expect all of this from you. You know? Being so romantic!”
Chenle chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I wanted to make sure our first real date was special. I know things got off to a confusing start, but I really like you, Y/N. I want to see where this can go."
Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling a warmth spread on your cheeks. "I really like you too, Chenle. And I appreciate all the effort you've put into tonight."
The conversation flowed easily. You shared stories, jokes, and dreams, discovering things you never knew about each other. Chenle's eyes never left yours, his gaze soft.
“You know,” Chenle said, leaning in slightly, “I’ve been really looking forward to this. It’s been a while since I’ve had a date where I felt this comfortable.”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” you said, your heart fluttering at his words. “I am too.”
During a brief pause in the conversation, Chenle reached across the table and took your hand. “I’ve been thinking,” he said softly, “I really enjoy being with you. I’d love for us to spend more time together, if you’re up for it.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I’d like that a lot.”
Chenle smiled, a mix of relief and happiness on his face. “Great. I was hoping you would.”
As the night drew to a close, Chenle walked you to your door. The night air was cool against your skin, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead.
“Do you think we can make this a regular thing?” Chenle asked, his voice hopeful.
You smiled warmly. “I’d like that a lot.”
Chenle’s face lit up with a bright, genuine grin. “Me too. I’m really glad we talked things through.”
He leaned in, and for a brief, breathless moment, you thought he might kiss you. But instead, he pulled you into a warm hug, holding you close.
When you finally pulled away and said goodnight, you closed the door with a smile on your face, feeling like you were floating on air. Chenle had gone beyond all your expectations, and as you leaned against the door, you couldn’t help but replay the night in your mind, already missing him.
Reaching into your bag you grabbed your phone and called Chenle. The phone rang a couple of times before he picked up.
“Hey, you miss me already?” Chenle’s voice came through the phone.
You chuckled at his playful tone. ��Maybe… only just a little bit.”
“What’s on your mind?” Chenle's voice held a teasing lilt as he waited for your response.
You hesitated for a moment, mumbling “Just wishing you would have kissed me”
Chenle went silent for a moment, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Well, I can fix that."
Before you could even process his words, you heard a light knock on your door. Confusion filled you as you made your way back, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you. As you opened the door, there stood Chenle, breath heavy.
"Surprise," he said softly.
Your heart leaped in your chest as Chenle closed the gap between you, cupping your face gently with his free hand. Leaning in, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss.
As Chenle pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But all he found was a dazed smile on your face. With a chuckle, he leaned in again, deepening the kiss.
His hands found your waist and he pressed you further into your house. With one foot, he closed the door behind him, never breaking the kiss between you two.
Chenle pulled away, a small whine leaving your lips in the absence of his touch. He chuckled before making sure your door was locked and turning back towards you.
Without a word, Chenle lifted you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you towards the living room and towards your bedroom. He set you down gently on your bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he caressed your cheek with a tender touch.
The tension filled the room. Chenle's gaze was intense, you could feel your heart racing.
"I've been thinking of you," he confessed, his voice husky with emotion. "I can't hold back anymore."
You reached up to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "Then don't," you whispered, barely able to believe this was really happening
Chenle’s lips met yours again in an instant, this kiss deeper and more urgent. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer, each touch sending shivers down your spine and making you dizzy with desire.
He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft, breathless, but filled with genuine concern.
You nodded, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Yes, I’m sure,” you whispered.
Chenle smiled, his expression softening. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He trailed kisses down your jawline, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. You tugged him closer, and he responded eagerly, deepening the kiss once more.
Chenle’s movements grew more confident, more assured, as he felt your response. He gently guided you back against the couch, his body hovering over yours. His kisses grew more passionate and demanding as his hands continued to explore. You could feel the tension building between you, the air thick with anticipation of what was going to happen.
In one swift motion, he pulled away just long enough to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before his hands returned to you, now with a new urgency. You mirrored his actions, discarding your dress and pulling him back down, feeling the sensation of his skin against yours. The closeness amplified every touch.
Chenle’s lips trailed down your body, leaving a path of kisses along your collarbone and down to your chest. His hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, learning every curve and contour of your body. A soft moan escaped your lips as his kisses became more insistent, his mouth and hands working together to drive you wild.
You pulled him closer, needing to feel him, to have every inch of him pressed against you. Your hands roamed his back, your nails lightly scratching as you both lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.
“God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Chenle murmured against your skin as he pushed into you. His words sent a fresh wave of warmth through you, and you responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, drawing him even closer. The sensation of him against you, the weight of his body, the heat between you—it was almost too much.
Your breaths mingled, rapid and uneven, as the rhythm between you quickened. Chenle’s hands moved with purpose, guiding your hips as you moved together, a perfect and desperate synchrony that had you both gasping. You could feel every beat of his heart, every shiver of anticipation as you inched closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck, i’m so close” Chenle groaned, picking up his pace. You couldn’t even respond, only broken moans leaving your lips.
As both of you hit your climax together, moans and gasps filled the room, giving way to an intense wave of pleasure that washed over you both.
Chenle pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he met your gaze. He wanted to say something but he didn’t instead his body collapsed against the sheets next to you.
His arms wrapped around you tightly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back as you both lay in a comfortable silence. “I don’t want this to end,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
As you drifted off to sleep in Chenle’s arms, the events of the night replayed in your mind, leaving you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. You didn’t know what was going to happen next.
• ──────── •
Over the next few weeks, your bond with Chenle grew stronger, despite your attempts to keep things under wraps—especially from Jisung. But it was becoming harder to hide. Chenle’s growing affection was obvious, and your friends were starting to pick up on the subtle changes in your behavior.
Chenle conviced the guys to start doing movie night at the guy’s dorms instead of his house. Telling everyone that his house was a mess and he didn’t want to clean it. Hiding the real reason. That they started catching on to you staying later than everyone else. He wanted to be able to hang out after, just the two of you.
“What are we watching tonight?” Mark asked, plopping down in the middle of the couch.
“Avatar,” Renjun suggested.
Donghyuck groaned. “Not Avatar again!”
“We watched *Top Gun* last time, so let’s watch the sequel,” you offered, taking your usual spot at the end of the couch.
Mark nodded and started searching for the movie.
Chenle slid in beside you, so casually that you didn’t think much of it. But in hindsight, you should have known it would cause some tension.
When Jisung finally joined with the popcorn, he automatically moved to sit next to you, just as he always did. But when he saw Chenle already there, he hesitated before sitting down beside him, hiding his confusion. If you hadn’t been so focused on Chenle, you might have noticed the brief furrow in Jisung’s brow. Instead, you were caught up in the excitement of being close to Chenle, hoping to sneak a few quiet moments together.
As the movie began and Jeno turned off the lights, you tried to relax, but Chenle’s presence beside you made your heart race. When his arm brushed against yours and his fingeres brushing against your thigh. Each small touch sent a shiver down your spine.
Jisung, sitting just inches away, stared at the screen, his face unreadable. He usually laughed along with everyone, throwing in his own jokes, but tonight he was unusually quiet. Occasionally, his eyes would drift toward you and Chenle, only to snap back to the movie when you glanced his way. If any of your friends noticed his unease, they didn’t mention it.
Jaemin, oblivious to the tension, tossed a piece of popcorn at Donghyuck after another snide remark about the movie. The usual banter continued, but you could feel a strange tension in the air, something you couldn’t quite understand.
A few scenes into the movie, Chenle’s hand found yours, his fingers lightly brushing yours before intertwining them. The simple gesture felt both comforting and thrilling. You knew you should be more careful, especially with Jisung so close, but it was hard to resist Chenle’s attention.
Jisung shifted uncomfortably. Though you were focused on Chenle, the small movement caught your attention. You turned to look at him just as he glanced away, his expression closed off and distant. It was so unlike him, and it tugged at your conscience.
Suddenly, Jeno, who had been relatively quiet, cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “So... anyone notice how cozy these two are getting?” He nodded toward you and Chenle, a smirk on his face.
The room fell silent for a moment. Your cheeks burned as you pulled your hand from Chenle’s, hoping the dim lighting hid your embarrassment. Chenle chuckled softly, trying to play it off, but you could feel the tension building.
Jaemin snickered. “Took you long enough to notice, Jeno.”
You tried to laugh along, but the awkwardness was overwhelming. Jisung’s face remained unreadable, though you noticed his jaw tighten slightly. You wanted to say something to ease the tension, but the words wouldn’t come.
Mark, always the peacemaker, tried to steer the focus back to the movie. “Alright, let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
But the mood had shifted. The lighthearted atmosphere was gone, and the weight of unspoken words hung in the air. Jisung’s silence was the most noticeable, and you had a sinking feeling that this wouldn’t end well.
As the movie played on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Instead, your thoughts swirled, questions nagging at you. What did Jisung think? Is he mad at you and Chenle? And more importantly, why did it matter so much?
When the film ended, everyone scattered—some headed to the kitchen for snacks, while others stayed on the couch, chatting. You felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety, glad that the movie was over but nervous about what might happen next.
As you stood up to stretch, you noticed Jisung was still on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen as if deep in thought. You hesitated, feeling an urge to talk to him, to address the tension. But before you could do anything, Chenle leaned in close, his voice soft.
“I’m sorry,” Chenle whispered in your ear.
You couldn’t help but smile a little. Turning to face him, you whispered back, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Squeezing his hand lightly, trying to comfort him.
But you quickly pulled your hand away when you heard Jisung yell, “What is going on?!”
The room fell into a tense silence as Jisung’s voice echoed, his sudden outburst freezing everyone in place. All eyes turned to him, but his gaze was fixed on you and Chenle, a mix of confusion and hurt etched across his face.
You felt your heart drop, panic rising in your chest. Jisung rarely lost his cool, and seeing him like this made the situation all the more real. Chenle, who had been so calm and collected moments before, shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly taken aback by Jisung's reaction.
Mark was the first to break the silence, his voice tentative. "Jisung, hey, it's just a movie night. Let's all just—"
But Jisung wasn’t having it. "No, it’s not just a movie night, Mark," he snapped, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Chenle. "Something's been going on, and no one's saying anything!"
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to calm him down, but the words caught in your throat.
Chenle, sensing your distress, took a small step forward, placing himself slightly between you and Jisung. "Jisung, listen, it’s not what you think—"
"Then what is it?" Jisung demanded, his voice laced with frustration. "Because it sure looks like you two have been hiding something from all of us. From me."
The hurt in his voice cut through you, and guilt twisted in your stomach. Jisung wasn’t just angry; he was hurt. And you knew why. He’d always been open with his feelings, always the one to bring everyone together, and now, he felt left out—betrayed, even.
Donghyuck, usually the one to defuse any tension with a joke, stood awkwardly to the side. Renjun and Jaemin exchanged worried glances, while Jeno just stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
You took a deep breath, finally finding the courage to speak. "Jisung, I'm sorry. We didn’t mean to keep anything from you."
"Then why did you?" Jisung’s voice was softer now, but the hurt was still there, raw and real.
"Because we didn’t even know what was happening," you admitted, your voice shaking slightly. "We didn’t want to make things weird or hurt anyone’s feelings. Especially not yours."
Chenle nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "We weren’t trying to keep secrets, Jisung. It just…happened. And we’re sorry for how it’s affected you."
Jisung looked between the two of you, the anger slowly draining from his face, replaced by something sadder, more vulnerable. "I just don’t get why you didn’t talk to me. You always talk to me."
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jisung had always been there for you, always ready to listen, to help, and now you realized how much your secrecy had hurt him. "I’m sorry," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "I should have talked to you. I just…I just I didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”
For a long, tense moment, Jisung said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his thoughts clearly in turmoil. The room was thick with tension, everyone holding their breath, waiting for his response.
When he finally looked up, his expression was calmer, but there was a guardedness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "You promised me," he said softly, the words tinged with quiet betrayal. "We promised never to keep secrets from each other."
Suddenly, his calm facade cracked, and anger surged through him. He pointed sharply at Chenle, his voice rising with emotion. "YOU PROMISED ME!"
Chenle looked down, guilt written across his face as Jisung continued, his voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. "You promised me that you would never go after her. She was supposed to be off-limits."
The room seemed to shrink, the weight of Jisung's words hanging heavy in the air. Everyone else was too shocked to speak.
Chenle flinched at Jisung’s accusation, his expression one of regret and confusion. "Jisung," he began, voice barely above a whisper, "I didn’t plan any of this. I didn’t think I’d—"
"That’s the problem!" Jisung cut him off, his voice shaking. "You didn’t think! You just… acted. Everything is a joke to you."
You could feel the tears welling up, your heart aching at the sight of Jisung so broken, so unlike his usual self. This was the Jisung who’d been your rock, the one who always made you laugh when you were down, and now, you were the one who’d hurt him.
"Jisung, please," you pleaded, your voice cracking. "I didn’t know how to handle this. I never wanted to hurt you."
The room remained silent, everyone acutely aware that they were intruding on something intensely personal. Jeno shifted uncomfortably, Renjun bit his lip, and Donghyuck looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
You finally broke the tense silence, your voice trembling. 'What can I do...?'
“Stop,” Jisung interrupted, his tone firm and unyielding. You frowned, confused by the sudden command.
“Stop this right now,” he said, frustration clear in his voice.
Before you could reply, Chenle spoke up, concern in his tone. “Jisung, what are you trying to say—”
“It’s either me or him,” Jisung interrupted, his eyes fixed on you with intensity.
Chenle glanced at you, waiting for your answer, but you found yourself unable to speak.
Before you could gather your thoughts, Chenle stepped back from you. “She chooses you.”
As he left, he murmured, “I’m not going to force you to choose.”
When the door closed behind him, an uneasy silence fell over the room. You looked around, noticing the apologetic expressions on the other guys’ faces.
You got all your stuff before looking at Jisung one more time and let out a small “I’m really sorry.” before leaving.
• ──────── •
Days turned into weeks before you were able to hang out with the boys again. When you finally did, it was clear that Chenle wasn’t himself. The atmosphere felt strained and uneasy.
Chenle's usually cheerful demeanor was not there, and he seemed distant, lost in his own thoughts. The conversations among the group felt forced, and laughter that used to come easily now seemed rare.
As the day wore on, you found yourself increasingly concerned. When you finally got a moment alone with Chenle, you decided to address the issue. “Hey, it’s nice seeing you again.”
Chenle smiled a little bit, “It’s nice seeing you too.” A moment off awkward silence settled between you two.
“Y/n, lets start over…For everyones sake.”
You nodded, a smile on your face. You’ll finally get to see Chenle again. Hopefully the group hangouts would go back to normal.
As you were clouded with hope, Chenle’s emotions were different. He didn’t want to pretend to be fine. But he would do anything for you. As the guys returned Chenle put a small on his face and started being like his old self. The guys all started to brighten up. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was going back to normal…Finally.
• ──────── •
You were worried to have another movie night. Every movie night seems to be the cause of something bad.
But you didnt want to let it affect you. Chenle has been working very hard on restoring the peace. It had been weeks since the fight between you, Jisung, and Chenle. However things started to improve, you couldn’t shake off the worry that it might all go wrong again. But Chenle had been putting in a lot of effort to smooth things over, and you hoped the peace would last.
When the night finally arrived, the atmosphere was lighter than it had been in weeks. Chenle was trying his best to act like his old self, and it seemed like he was succeeding— at least on the surface. The guys were chatting and laughing, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.
Mark, Renjun, and Jaemin were debating which movie to watch, and you joined in with a smile, trying to enjoy the moment. Donghyuck was making jokes, and the room was filled with a sense of normalcy that you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Chenle, sitting next to you, seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He threw a playful glance your way and nudged you with his shoulder, trying to break through the lingering awkwardness. You appreciated the effort and responded with a smile, though a part of you was still on edge.
Jisung sat down on the floor, across from you. “Oh Y/n, I met a guy who I think you would get along with.”
You glanced sideways and noticed Chenle stiffen next to you. His casual demeanor from earlier seemed to waver, and a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. You tried to keep your expression neutral, though you were tense.
“oh um…” You didn’t know how to react. How could Jisung even ask that? Let alone around everyone else.
Jisung not understanding or not caring about your discomfort continued. “He’s really into music and literature, and he’s got this great sense of humor. I think you two would get along really well.”
Chenle shifted slightly, his hand moving to rest on his knee. You could feel the subtle change in his body language, his usual act replaced by a subtle unease.
Jaemin, noticing the tension, lightly shoved Jisung on the shoulder “Come on, stop that.”
Jisung shrugged, “I’ll send you his number.”
This was the final straw for Chenle. His demeanor shifted suddenly, his earlier attempts at playing civil were gone.. He stood up, unable to mask his frustration any longer.
“You’re cruel,” Chenle interjected, his voice tighter than usual, “Don’t act like im not right here.”
The room fell into a stunned silence. The casual banter ceased, replaced by an awkward tension that hung heavily in the air. Chenle’s outburst had caught everyone off guard, and even Jisung looked taken aback.
You quickly turned to Chenle, trying to offer a reassuring smile, but it was clear that the situation was beyond the point of acting like everything was fine. You felt a pang of guilt for not dealing with the situation better.
“I’m sorry, Chenle,” you said softly, reaching out for his hand.
Chenle took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “It’s not your fault, It was never your fault.”
“You know,” Chenle turned to Jisung, “I don’t care about your feelings! I love Y/N and im not going to let you hurt her anymore.”
Jisung’s expression morphed from surprise to defensiveness, his features hardening as he stood up to face Chenle. The room was silent, tension crackling in the air as the two boys locked eyes in a silent battle.
“Hey, calm down,” Mark interjected, attempting to diffuse the escalating fight. But Chenle was not going to back down again, his gaze unwavering as he continued to address Jisung.
“You think you can just come in here and act like everything’s fine after what happened?” Chenle’s voice rose with each word, his frustration and hurt pouring out. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you hurt Y/n again.”
Jisung’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “Im not hurting Y/n, you are hurting her!” he shot back, his own anger bubbling to the surface.
Renjun stepped forward, speaking calmly but firmly. “Guys, let's all take a step back and calm down,” he suggested, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “This isn't helping anyone.”
Chenle and Jisung both paused, their eyes locked in a silent battle.
“We need to talk this out calmly,” Renjun continued, his gaze shifting between the two of them. “We're all friends here, and we can work through this together.”
“Shut up Renjun! I’m tired of everyone acting like nothing happened!” Chenle’s frustration boiled over. “Y/n deserves better than this.”
Chenle stormed off again. Reminding you off what happened at the last movie night.
Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “Did he say he loves me…” you whispered to yourself, still stuck on Chenle’s words.
You stood there, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The room was filled with a tense silence as everyone processed what had just unfolded. Jisung's expression softened, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he glanced at you.
But before anyone could even say anything you got up from your seat and ran out the door in search for Chenle.
But the door to the elevator was already shutting before you could say anything.
You sprinted towards the stairs, heart pounding in your chest. The thought of Chenle, hurt and upset, fueled your speed. As you reached the stairwell, you hesitated for a moment before taking the steps two at a time.
When you finally got to the ground floor, you scanned the area frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of Chenle. His words kept echoing in your mind. You couldn't let him walk away like this, not again.
But he wasnt in the lobby.
You pushed open the glass doors of the building, stepping out into the cool night air. The street was quiet, with only a few scattered passersby making their way along the sidewalk. You glanced left and right, unsure of which way Chenle might have gone.
Your heart raced as you spotted a figure sitting on a bench in the park across the street. You knew it was Chenle. Without a second thought, you hurried across the road towards him.
"Chenle!" you called out, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night. He turned to look at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.
You reached his side, breathless from your sprint down the stairs. "Chenle," you whispered between deep breaths reaching out to touch his arm.
Before you could go on a rampage of apologies, Chenle couldn’t help but laughed.
"I can't believe you ran all the way down here just to chase after me," Chenle said, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes met yours, the tension that had filled the air was gone.
You couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh, relieved to see a glimpse of the Chenle you knew and cared for. "You’re worth it."
Chenle's smile widened as he shifted on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him. You settled down, the cool night air wrapping around you both as you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
"I'm sorry for running off like that," Chenle began, his tone softer now. "I just... I couldn't stand seeing you upset, especially because of me."
“Can you stop blaming yourself!”
Chenle looked at you, his eyes softening. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I just want you to be happy, Y/n," Chenle said sincerely, his gaze searching yours. "I don't ever want to be the cause of your pain."
Taking a deep breath, you started, "Chenle, you have never been the cause of my pain," you said, turning so your body was facing him. "You've always been there for me, always caring and understanding. I appreciate you more than words can express."
Chenle's eyes widened slightly, before a soft smile spread on his face. “So what now?”
Chenle's smile was always contagious, and you found yourself mirroring it as you gazed into his eyes.
"Now," you began, your voice steady as you spoke, "you kiss me."
Chenle's lips curved into a smile. “You’re such a romantic.” Chenle joked, causing you to roll your eyes as he leaned in closer. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss. It was soft and sweet. All of your worries melted away. As long has you have eachother, everything is going to be okay.
© 2024 fullsunstrawberry all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!
nct dream taglist: @lostinneocity @naqkja
general taglist: @haechansbbg @haolovre @talkingsaxy @chenlesfeetpic
#dirty little secret#chenle#chenle x reader#nct dream#chenle angst#chenle fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream x reader#chenle x y/n#chenle x you#zhong chenle
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Never ask a White Fang member the race of her boyfriend
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Dirty Little Secret - part 6 (leila ouahabi x reader)
Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.
Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader
Part 6/?
Read other parts here.
———
You’re a European Champion.
You don’t really know what to do with that information.
To be honest, after the first twenty four hours that pass in a hungover blur, you end up on a bit of a downer. You should be delighted, riding the high of being the first England team to win a major trophy in fifty-six years, but after two glorious months in camp with a group of girls you’re now bonded with for life, returning to your hometown for a couple of weeks before pre-season is a dose of reality that’s just a little bit too big to swallow.
You’re happy to see your family, of course. You’ve spent most of the summer away from them with only limited visits while you were in camp. But after the best summer of your life with a football at your feet, it takes all of about three days for you to be itching to get back on the football pitch again.
A few days into your two weeks off, a few of the girls get together for what is part post-Euro reunion and part farewell dinner for Georgia, who departs for Munich the next day. It’s a mixed group - a few Lionesses and some of the girls from Manchester City - but it’s the familiar dark hair at the end of the table that catches your eye, deep in conversation with somebody else you don’t know.
You’re surprised to see Leila who, apart from having her own Euro hopes dashed by Georgia’s extra time winner, has no reason to know Georgia.
You take a seat next to Lauren, who notices you looking at the two girls at the far end of the table.
“Oh, that’s Laia and Leila,” she explains. “I invited them. They’re still settling into the team and there’s so many City girls here, I thought it would be nice for them to get to know people a bit better.”
Leila must feel your eyes on her because it’s at that exact moment that she looks up and her dark gaze meets yours. There’s no change to her expression, no giveaway to anybody else that you know each other except for the fact that her eyes linger on you for longer than they would if you were just strangers who happened to make eye contact, until she finally turns back to her conversation with Laia.
You feel a rush of giddiness go straight to your head, blocking out all the sounds around you as you continue to look at Leila, admiring the sharp angles of her side profile. It almost feels like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, having this secret that nobody else around you knows. You enjoyed your time in Barcelona with Leila and getting to be all coupley with her in front of her old teammates, but you’d forgotten how much of a turn-on the thrill of secrecy could be.
———
As the evening goes on, you don’t forget about Leila - how could you, when she is right there and looks so damn good - but you get a little distracted by everything else. There are enough Lionesses present that means you spend a lot of time talking about the Euros, reminiscing over the best summer of your life, then because tonight is about Georgia leaving, you end up talking about old times at City. It’s been years since you played for them, a scrawny teenager playing alongside Keira and Georgia, all three of you with big dreams and no idea that you would one day become European Champions together. But even as you reminisce, there’s always a part of you that’s aware of Leila’s presence at the other end of the table and you can’t help but glancing at her throughout the night.
“All us OG City girls are gradually leaving the nest,” Georgia says, smiling fondly at you and Keira. “I wonder who’ll be next.”
You notice that Keira is suspiciously quiet and has suddenly taken a deep interest in the ice cubes at the bottom of her empty glass. With the performances she’s just put on at the Euros, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got interest from other clubs too.
“City’s got some new blood now though,” you say, your eyes wandering to Leila once more. “Not that it’ll matter, Arsenal will still beat City this season.”
Predictably in a room full of mostly City players, your comment causes outrage. Arsenal and City are due to play each other soon for the first fixture of the new season and you always enjoy the rivalry against your old club. And with Leila on the other team, you’ve got extra incentive to go out there and put on a show this time.
You let them banter with you for a moment. Even Georgia, technically no longer a City player, takes great joy in slandering Arsenal.
When the conversation finally moves on, your eyes wander back to Leila, and you tune out the voices around you as you stare, mentally trying to figure out if there’s a way you can subtly change seats to be closer to her without alerting the entire group to your motives.
There isn’t, and Leila chooses that exact moment to meet your gaze while her lips are still wrapped around the straw in her drink. She lets the straw slip out of her mouth but you still get a glimpse of the pink tip of her tongue and there’s no way in hell you can pay attention to whatever conversation is going on around you now.
You excuse yourself to the bathroom, anything to give yourself a chance to get away and recompose yourself, and thankfully they’re all too busy laughing at something Georgia is saying to pay any attention to the flush of your cheeks, nor the way that Leila’s gaze follows you as you go.
You hear somebody else enter the bathroom as you flush the toilet and when you exit the cubicle Leila is standing at the sinks checking her appearance in the mirror. Her dark eyes find yours in the reflection, and her mouth twitches in a smirk of recognition.
“Hi,” she says.
You glance around the bathroom, checking that all three stalls are empty, before you approach the sink to wash your hands and reply, “Hi yourself. How are you finding Manchester?”
“I like it. It’s a nice city.”
“At least the weather’s been nice since you got here. Just wait until it rains every day.”
You walk over to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands and Leila turns around, leaning back against the sink to look at you.
“Everything is always about the weather to you English people,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Too hot, too cold.”
“What can I say - we like to complain.”
“Are you going to complain right now?” Leila asks.
The air in the bathroom suddenly feels a lot thicker, the way that Leila is watching you as you dispose of the balled up paper towel, coupled with the teasing lilt to her tone, reminding you of just how attracted you are to her.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Actually, there is one thing I want to complain about,” you say, taking a couple of steps closer to Leila.
“What‘s that?” Leila asks, her eyebrows crinkling together in a frown.
“I want to complain about the fact that we’re alone in this completely deserted bathroom and you haven’t kissed me yet.”
“You haven’t kissed me either,” Leila points out.
“Is that an invitation?” you challenge her.
Your words have the desired effect of provoking a reaction from Leila, because her eyes flash in defiance and she retaliates, “I want to complain about how annoying-”
You don’t give Leila the chance to finish her complaint, because you grab her by the lapels of her jacket and pull her in for a kiss. She lets out a surprised little grunt when your lips collide with hers, but melts into the kiss quickly, her hands finding your hips as her lips settle into a familiar movement against your own.
You only realise now that you’re here, kissing Leila in a secluded bathroom like your life depends on it, that it’s actually been months since you last did this. In all your focus for the Euros, the hard work and the euphoria, you’d sort of forgotten that you hadn’t actually kissed Leila since you bid your goodbyes to each other in the departure lounge of the Barcelona airport after your brief visit at the end of last season. Not even after your game against each other during the tournament did you kiss.
And with the way Leila kisses you, stealing the air from your mouth with such hunger, you vow never to go another three months without kissing her again.
“I’ve missed you,” you mumble against her mouth, when you have to draw back for breath, to save yourself from passing out from sheer lack of oxygen caused by Leila’s kiss. “I’ve missed this.”
Leila’s hand finds the back of your head and she uses it to pull you closer, not for another kiss, but to rest your head against her shoulder as she wraps her other arm around your back. You snake your own arms around her waist, burying your face into her neck and savouring the feeling of her arms around you, not wanting this moment to end.
“I’ve missed this too,” Leila murmurs, her fingers stroking through your hair.
She’s right, it’s this that you’ve been craving. Not the kissing or the sex, though you’ve spent more time thinking about that in the nearly three months since you last slept together than you’d care to admit, but everything else too. The intimacy of being held, of having somebody to share the little moments with, the ability to go from teasing each other about the weather to making out against a sink to cuddling like this, with each of those things feeling just as natural as the last.
And maybe, just maybe, all of that will be easier to facilitate than it was when you lived in different countries.
“Stay with me tonight?” Leila asks, feeling her voice rumble beneath your cheek as much as you hear the words.
You’d been planning on getting a taxi back to your parents’ house on the outskirts of Manchester, or maybe crashing with Lauren or Keira if it ends up being a late one tonight, but that was before you knew that you’d see Leila tonight. Now that this offer is on the table, there’s nowhere else you want to spend the night.
“Of course.”
———
Waking up the next morning, there are two things that you feel. The first is comfort, Leila’s warm body wrapped around your own with your hips nestled back against her own, feeling happy and well-rested after a night of good sleep in her arms.
The second is the desperate urge to pee.
You try to extract yourself from Leila’s embrace without disturbing her, but Leila only tightens her arms around you to stop you from leaving and mumbles words that you don’t understand in sleepy Spanish.
“Leila,” you murmur, trying to wriggle free. “Leila, I need to pee. Where’s your bathroom?”
Leila reluctantly lets you leave her arms and mutters in Spanish again, before she says in English, “Left.”
You slip out of bed and leave Leila’s bedroom, following her directions by finding the bathroom through the next door to the left.
When you’ve been to the toilet and freshened up a little with some cold water to your face and running your fingers through your mussed hair, you exit the bathroom and immediately stop in your tracks when you see somebody sitting at the dining table eating breakfast and drinking coffee. You think you recognise her as one of Leila’s new City teammates, though her name slips your mind, but you wonder if you really walked right past her without noticing her on your way to the bathroom.
“Hi,” she greets you, an amused smile gracing her lips. “I’m Deyna.”
You glance at Leila’s bedroom door, which stands slightly ajar as you left it, then introduce yourself to Deyna.
“Arsenal, right?” she asks.
“Yeah,” you nod. “And you’re at City with Leila?”
“Teammates. Roommates.�� Deyna pauses, then adds, “Just regular mates.”
“Cool,” you say, unsure whether you’re supposed to continue to make smalltalk with Deyna out of politeness, or if it’s acceptable to make your excuses and return to Leila’s room.
Luckily you’re saved at that exact moment by Leila herself, who emerges from her bedroom with sleep-tousled hair to investigate what’s going on.
“Oh,” she says, when she sees Deyna. From the expression on her face, she’s as surprised to see Deyna as you are. She turns to you, then says, “This is Deyna.”
“She knows that already,” Deyna grins. “We were just getting to know each other.”
“Coffee?” Leila asks you, as she walks over to the kitchen units and grabs a couple of mugs out of a cupboard.
“Yes please,” you reply. At the table, Deyna’s attention is now on her phone as she eats, and you say to Leila, “You didn’t mention that you had a roommate.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a deep sleeper,” Deyna interjects, glancing up from the screen of her phone with a smirk gracing her lips.
Your cheeks burn red and Leila retaliates with what you can only assume is a string of Spanish expletives.
Deyna apologises, mostly directing it at you, before she asks, “So how did you two meet?”
“Champions League,” Leila answers, busying herself over the coffee again.
“We played each other twice in the group stage last season,” you elaborate.
“I beat her twice,” Leila says, glancing across at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes.
“Leila got a yellow card for trying to break my legs.”
“I didn’t … it was an accident,” Leila insists. “It was passion.”
“Strange way to flirt, but okay,” Deyna teases Leila.
“That’s what I said!” you exclaim in agreement.
Leila wanders over with two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which she offers out to you, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips as she mumbles, “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
You thank her for the coffee, bringing it to your lips and taking the tiniest sip from the mug, letting out a satisfied hum.
The only other time Leila has made you coffee was when you went to visit her in Barcelona, but the coffee is perfect, like heaven touching your tongue.
“You remembered how I take my coffee?” you ask.
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Thank you, it’s perfect.”
The domesticity of it is nice, as if you’re existing in a bubble where only you and Leila matter.
Until Deyna interrupts your moment.
“Go and be cute in your room,” she tells Leila, dismissing you both with a wave and a roll of her eyes. “I’m trying to eat.”
Leila nudges you back towards her bedroom and you soon find yourself nestled against Leila’s side again, propped up against the headboard with steaming mugs of coffee cradled in your hands.
“You promised me a tour?” she says.
“Of Manchester?”
Leila nods eagerly.
“You’re gonna have to wait a bit longer,” you tell Leila apologetically. “I can’t hang out today.”
The disappointment that flashes across Leila’s face is almost enough to have you reaching for your phone to call your agent to cancel your plans for the day.
“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be going back to my old junior club today. Helping out with some training, taking photos with the kids, letting them see my medal. Inspiring the next generation and all that crap.”
“It’s not crap,” Leila assures you. “Well, maybe for me if it means we can’t hang out.”
“Didn’t know you were so clingy,” you tease her.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” Leila replies flirtatiously.
You smile across at her.
“And I can’t wait to find out.”
———
You return to London a couple of days later, regretfully without having seen Leila again since that morning at her flat, but you start to message each other more often. Not quite every day, but a few times a week, little things like talking about your days. It’s more familiar than it’s ever been before, with most of your conversations prior to the Euros being laced with flirtatious pictures and suggestive messages. But this is different - you talk about mundane things like training, or what you’re having for dinner, or the latest English slang words that Leila has learned from her new City teammates.
But that doesn’t mean your relationship has lost any of its spark. It’s still flirty, especially because Arsenal’s first fixture of the new season is away at City. It reminds you a little bit of those first couple of encounters in the Champions League last season, bantering about the upcoming contest in a way you hope leads to sparks on and off the pitch.
And then the game gets cancelled.
All that build-up, the jokes about yellow cards, the promises that you’d let Leila do whatever she wants to you if she let you score past her, falls away into nothing the moment that the game is called off.
You feel empty. And not just because football is your life and you’d been looking forward to the league starting up again, but because once the season starts you don’t know when you and Leila will both get time off at the same time. It might be months before you get to see each other again.
———
Two things happen when the season finally begins and September morphs into October.
The first is that you pick up a hamstring injury. It shouldn’t surprise you too much, given that you pretty much went straight from last season into the Euros, straight into pre-season. You’re in your prime as an athlete, but you’re not invincible. You work hard on your recovery, even if you’re a little bummed to be spending so much time in the gym and staying on the sidelines as the Champions League group stage begins.
The second thing that happens is that fifteen Spanish players, including Leila, step back from their national team in protest of their working conditions. You don’t know the details but you remember Leila alluding to some problems during the Euros, when she pointed out that talent alone doesn’t win Championships.
You don’t really know what you can do to support Leila, especially from London. The story blows up in the football media world and you imagine it must be particularly hard for Leila, being so far from Spain and away from most of the other girls involved, but you don’t know if there’s anything you can do or say to make it easier.
You eventually settle on messaging her a few hours after the story hits the headlines.
You Proud of you for standing up for the right thing! Always here if you want to talk about it or if you want a distraction instead?
Leila likes your message after a few hours but doesn’t reply.
The red heart that taunts you from the screen of your phone is something you’ll come to realise is probably the beginning of the end.
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Dirty Little Secret (1)
Taglist • Ao3 • Social Media • Discord 18+ • Masterlists • Chapter 2 →
↳ 1 | Unholy
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader
Gojo Satoru is many things: family man, politician, someone the public believes they can trust. It’s how he’s gotten where he is in life. Hidden beneath the façade is a man with many guilty pleasures – you being one of them.
words: 7.3k
cw: explicit drugs use, mention of alcohol, infidelity (not on reader), vaginal fingering, rough sex, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding kink, degradation, dacryphilia, exhibitionism
an: This was just going to be a oneshot based on the song "Unholy" by Sam Smith, but then I had an idea for a small part 2
an2.0: if you would like to read part 2, that one got tagged with a community lable. Please make sure you have those on, this post will tell you how to enable that as well.
His wife probably thought she was the luckiest woman in the world when he got down on one knee, professed his love and said he wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side.
She probably felt even luckier, everything going according to their life plan when she found out she was pregnant with his children, starting a loving family with one of the most prominent politicians Tokyo has to offer.
She’d kick him out if she ever knew the way you stand between his legs, moving your shoulders, chest and hips to the beat of the bass blasting in the club. The way his eyes watch your hands trailing the length of your body before putting his own on your skin.
She’d divorce him on the spot if she knew the way you grind on his hips, the way his fingers caress every inch of your skin when he comes to see you.
She would never let him touch her again if she knew how he touched you, in all the ways she won’t let him do to her, in all the ways he really wants, the ways he enjoys.
Of course you’re aware of the wife - it would be impossible not to be. The picture-perfect family, an ideal trophy wife, two children. That’s his spiel, how he got into office and maintained his position over the years. He’s a father, a family man; understands the struggle and just how hard it is to maintain a happy healthy family - just like the average working person.
A politician you can trust because he’s just like you.
You’ve never seen or met her, steering clear of anything that has to do with Satoru during the day, but from your understanding he spends a lot of time with his kids when he has free time in the mornings and afternoons.
In the evenings he finds himself with you. Long legs spread wide as he sits back on the plush couch, you dropping your hips down onto his, grinding on him until you feel his cock harden from your touch.
It’s a miracle she hasn’t found out about the shit Satoru does behind her back; it’s a miracle nobody has. Sure he tries to be as discreet as possible, entering clubs through the back, paying for private rooms, private dances all the while spending thousands on sex, drugs and alcohol.
That’s how the two of you met. You were on stage, twirling, spinning and sliding your way down and around a pole in the most provocative positions. Satoru walked in with his three best friends; a man with long raven locks, one with a scar over the right side of his lip, and another with several tattoos over his face.
Satoru immediately caught your attention, with his messy hair, white as freshly fallen snow hanging over his eyes, eyes that were covered by dark square sunglasses, shielding them from your view. You watched him lick his lips, talk to your manager and head to a room in the back with his friends.
You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel his gaze burning into you with every flip of your hair, shimmy of your waist and hips in his direction.
You didn’t realize who he was at this point, not that it has ever really mattered.
It started with him coming to see you, paying to have you as the lone private dancer - sometimes for just him, sometimes with his friends. He’d tip you an exorbitant amount each time, enough of you to buy the Gucci handbag you’ve had your eye on for some time.
Eventually, when he realized you figured out who he is and weren’t talking about the shit you’ve seen him do, he easily charmed you with his honeyed words and wicked ways, inviting you to continue to the party elsewhere when your performances had ended.
Satoru likes to spend money, always seems to have too much of it, if the tips he leaves you with are anything to judge him by. Always enough to buy the latest Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Versace without batting an eye.
All because you’re so good to him, he says.
He likes to get his hands on the finest white powders money can buy; likes to snort lines off your tits before rolling the remaining into dainty joints for you to smoke; likes to watch you with his own lazy, crooked smile as the smooth burn fills your lungs.
You’re consistent, staying out of his life and daily affairs. It’s part of what he likes so much about you.
You never ask for more, knowing he’s not willing to give it. It’s why he keeps coming back to you, there’s no desire to be a part of the drama that would ensue if anyone outside of his circle of friends ever found out about you.
It’s why you had no problem signing the NDA he presented on your first night out together.
Satoru knows when he needs it, you’ll be there; when he wakes in the morning, you’ll be gone. Not wanting any part of the lives you lead outside of the clubs and hotel rooms you frequently find yourselves in.
The bright lights from the city faded from the rear view mirror some time ago. Things are different tonight, seemingly calmer than you’ve ever experienced before with the man sitting to your right over the year you’ve been seeing each other.
He shifts gears while humming along to the tune playing softly in the background as the two of you sit in a comfortable silence.
The car is extravagant. It suits him and you wouldn’t expect anything less to be honest. It’s the kind of car where the doors open up, rather than out, the leather seats are a dark black while the exterior is a stark white matching his hair.
The small space smells like a mix of his cologne, bergamot and honey, along with the perfume you always put on before going out with him.
This is the longest you’ve ever spent in his vehicle, unless he’s pulled off to the side of the road or in an abandoned parking lot either with you on his lap or spread out in the back seat as he fucks into you.
Satoru hasn’t spoken a lot tonight, just asked if you wanted to hang out after work and ushered you into his car on an empty street like usual. Obviously he’s taking you away tonight but you’re not sure where and trying not to care too much, so you don’t ask.
Doing that would change the aloof nature of your relationship and you’re not ready for any of those dynamics to be different, nor do you think he would be receptive to it.
“I can’t stay long,” he breaks the silence first, pulling into a hotel roughly forty five minutes away on the outskirts of Tokyo, “and I need to be sober. But, you can have fun and I’ll drive you home later.”
Satoru’s never taken you home before, though with his connections and power you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where you live regardless. When you’ve stayed the night together before, you’re always up early and make sure to leave before he wakes up. Not only because you shouldn’t be with him, but also because you���ve never been one to stick around for awkward morning conversations or expectations.
You nod with a quiet “okay,” while he hands you a basic black face mask while putting on his own. He also takes off his tie, throwing it in his pocket and undoing a few of the top buttons on his shirt before putting on a matching black sock hat to cover his hair.
Stepping out of the car, you adjust your tiny black dress and hair before looping your arm in with Satoru’s making your way into the glamorous hotel, past the concierge and to the elevator.
Even when trying to be discreet, Satoru and his friends can’t help the luxuries they like to surround themselves with. He says he can’t stay and has to be sober, but that didn’t stop any of them from choosing a hotel with chandeliers, gold decor and marble floors covering every inch of the lobby.
When you get to the top floor of the hotel, there are only a few doors in the hall. Satoru knocks on one a few times before it’s quickly opened, allowing the two of you in. The space is more akin to an apartment than a hotel room - a small kitchen off to one side, a large bedroom with its own door separating the space from what serves as the living room.
There are floor to ceiling windows covering every inch of wall space, overlooking the small, lively city below. Chandeliers hang in this room too, the bathroom has similar marble flooring to the lobby with a shower that could easily fit ten, along with a jacuzzi.
Suguru is sitting on a chair reclined back with a woman who could easily be a model on his lap. He has a joint between his fingers, bringing it to his lips and taking a drag before holding it up to hers. She accepts with a grin, hand on his chest while the other fiddles with his hair.
Toji and Sukuna are sitting on a love seat next to Suguru, doing what they always seem to be doing - cutting too many lines of a soft white powder on a mirrored plate with a credit card before rolling one of their bills and inhaling, taking turns.
There are several other women in the room with a few other guys you don’t recognize - they’re all busy grinding to the beat of the music playing, glasses of champagne in their hands.
You never know who Toji and Sukuna are going to have with them - it’s seemingly a new girl each time you’re around. Aside from yourself and the girl on Suguru’s lap you’ve seen a few times, you’re the only constant.
Then again, you don’t know what goes on, on the other nights of the week that Satoru doesn’t come to whisk you away. You’ve never bothered to ask, never wanting to know how many other women he has, just like you, waiting to have his attention for the night.
Toji walks over, the mountain of a man that he is, emerald green eyes gleaming with mischief as he looks you up and down, biting his scarred lip before saying, “lookin’ great, as always.”
You’re smiling, unable to help the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from his intense gaze, but don’t respond because Satoru has moved his hand to your waist, pulling you in closer to him.
“Can you fuck off and leave my girl alone?” Satoru says without a trace of humor and you’re reeling more from his words than you should be.
His girl.
You don’t let yourself think too hard about it. You know what this is, what it always will be.
What it can never be.
You’re shrugging as Satoru pulls you away, moving his hand from your waist down to your ass, grabbing a handful before removing his hand completely, sitting on the couch next to Suguru, across from where Sukuna was before, who is now missing.
Satoru likes it when you wear the things you buy with his money - showing him you appreciate what he’s given you. Every once in a while you’ll buy a new handbag or jewelry to show off but mainly you spend it on little dresses to flaunt around in front of him, something easily accessible and removable, the way he likes it.
Sitting on the couch, resting your head on Satoru’s shoulder listening to the way his voice reverberates through his chest as he talks with Suguru, you absentmindedly draw little shapes on his chest wondering why he brought you with him tonight. The only thing you’ve been doing since you got here is listen to them discuss things you’re not interested in talking or hearing about, things that have to do with their work.
A soft quiet sigh leaves your lips as you watch Suguru pack and roll another joint for himself and his guest. Satoru hears and cocks his head in your direction before capturing your lips with his own quickly.
“You can join them. I’ll take care of you tonight.”
“It’s not fun without you,” you’re running your thumb across his lower lip, wiping away the lipstick that’s smeared on the corner. He grins before biting the tip of your thumb, swirling his tongue around it.
After a few moments, you pull your thumb away and he clicks his tongue before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and a little clear plastic baggie with a white powder that was embedded deep within, “this would be fun for you. Just need a little.”
Your brows are furrowed; it’s a different soft crystalline powder than you’ve seen him have before, “what is it?”
“A stimulant,” he replies generically, his grin is wide as he puts his wallet back in his pocket. Satoru tells you to take the water bottle that’s on the table beside you and drink it because you’ll want to stay hydrated and then to wet the tip of one of your fingers with your tongue.
You grin, looking up at him through thick lashes before putting your index finger in his mouth. He chuckles before rolling his tongue on it a few times. Listening to his instructions, you dip your finger into the baggie and suck the powder off - it doesn’t taste like anything. All you’re able to taste is the slight spearmint flavor from his spit.
After dipping your finger back into the baggie you hold it up for him. He watches you, eyes dark, stern and unamused. Satoru sees the way your shoulders slump slightly when he doesn’t accept it and the way your lower lips juts out slightly, pouting - it’s barely noticeable, but he sees it.
You’ve never asked for more from him over the last year, and you’ve been so good to him during that time too.
“Fuck, okay, but this is it.”
“Okay.” You reply quietly, the corner of your lip tugging upwards.
The boys continue their conversation and you’re not sure how much time has passed but as you watch Satoru’s sharp jaw as he speaks, the planes of his cheeks and slope of his nose you also realize his pupils have dilated tremendously. They’re more black than blue at this point.
You’ve also noticed you’ve been drawing little circles on the palm of your hand this entire time - the touch of your own skin feels so good that you can’t help but reach for Satoru and run your nails up and down the length of his arm. He tilts his head towards you, smirks and pulls you closer so your legs are resting atop his as he follows suit on your bare legs.
The contact feels incredible, like little tingles of electricity each time his nails run up and down the length of your legs slowly. Every once in a while he moves his hand up your thigh, towards the hem of your dress which makes you gasp, more and more slick pooling in the center of your panties with each pass of his hand.
“So, the wife is finally suspicious about where you go at night, huh?” Suguru asks smoothly as Toji and Sukuna come back over and sit on the small couch across from you.
Sukuna lights another joint, taking a long drag before adding, “everyone is suspicious about what we’re up to. That’s nothing new.”
Satoru sighs before leaning his head against the back of the couch, “just need to make sure nothing gets out. It’ll affect more than just us and our families if it does.”
“Awe,” you coo, “trouble in paradise?”
Satoru is snide with his remark as he glares at you from the corner of his cold blue eyes, “why? Wish I was married to you?”
You grin, leaning up to whisper in his ear, “you wish.”
“What about you?” He asks suddenly, “hiding me from anyone?”
Satoru grabs the little bag of powder and opens it again, so you do the same as you did last time; lick the tip of your index finger, dip it in and place a little on your tongue before doing the same for him.
“Nope, not worth it.”
This is the first time either of you have really acknowledged your lives outside of what you do when you’re together, typically avoiding any and all topics that have to do with personal lives.
Tonight is different and you don’t know why though you’re not exactly putting in any effort to change it.
Satoru has never worried or cared if his friends made a comment about how good you look or showed interest in hooking up with you but tonight he’s more possessive of your interactions. Holding you closer, letting details of his family and day to day life slip in conversation like he never has before.
“This feels so good,” you rasp out, taking in the feeling of his hands moving along your legs and mostly thighs at this point, so you move to straddle him. Satoru runs his large hands up your thighs slowly and under your dress to your ass, gripping hard as you press your body up against his chest, “need you.”
“I can’t tonight,” it’s a whisper filled with desperation because he wants to.
Satoru’s grip on your hips tightens as he lowers you down onto his lap so you can feel just how badly he wants you too. A whimper leaves your lips when he guides you to roll your hips on top of his before moving his hands to the insides of your thighs.
“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He hisses when he feels your arousal running down your leg and quickly loses his resolve, moving your panties to the side and running two fingers through your soaked folds.
It’s easy to forget, with the way he’s easily able to insert two fingers into your pussy and find your sweet spot, that the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room. Foreheads pressed together, mouths agape as you cup his cheek, rutting your hips in time with his hand as he brings you closer and closer to the brink of your release.
Satoru moves a hand from your hip to your throat, squeezing gently at the base while your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. Each touch, each pass of his fingers on your g-spot is euphoric.
There’s slick coating his hand, up to his wrist - you’re wet, wetter than you ever have before and you’re doing everything in your power to move your hips with his hand so his palm stays tightly pressed against your clit. You’re mewling, whimpering, never wanting this feeling to end, almost ready to beg him to keep you like this forever.
You’re so taken back with each others touch, the way you hold him close, card your fingers through his hair and drag your nails through his undercut; the way your breaths are mingling with one another as you’re so overcome with desire and pleasure you can’t even warn him that the thread barely keeping you together is about to snap before you’re moaning out his name and he’s whispering “fuck, that’s it,” as you absolutely gush on his hand.
Capturing your lips again the kisses are messy and needy until you’re both snapped back to reality by the sounds of Toji laughing, “damn, that was quite the show. You gonna need some help with her?”
Satoru sighs, running his thumb across your lips before moving you off his lap and standing, entwining his fingers with yours, “fuck off, Fushiguro. Find someone your own age to hang out with.”
He leads you out of the room and back down to the lobby of the hotel. You’re sure you’re about to leave for the night, before he lets temptation ruin him but rather than leading you out, he stops at the receptionist's desk, where a young man is standing, asking for a room.
There’s a smile that spreads across your face and you can’t even help it, a feeling of superiority spreading through your body that he’s choosing to spend the night with you, rather than whatever obligation was holding him back earlier.
“Hi,” you smile and wave at the receptionist while biting your lip. His eyes are flicking between you and Satoru as he looks for an open room.
It’s thrilling, being out with Satoru - there’s always that underlying thought, the excitement around potentially getting caught, even though that isn’t something either of you actually want.
Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, either because of the reality of the two of you being caught due to a snap decision on his part to stay the night or because of the drugs you took earlier, you’re not sure but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.
Satoru tilts his head in your direction, eyeing you up and down with a frown, “don’t fucking flirt with another man in front of me.”
“Oh, jealousy is not a good look on you.”
Before Satoru is able to reply, the receptionist cuts in, handing Satoru the keycard to a room along with a pamphlet of information about amenities the hotel provides. When the receptionist finishes his spiel Satoru carefully looks him over.
“If anything leaks from here, I’ll know it was from you and I will make your life a living hell. I will take anything and everything you hold dear to your heart and ruin it. You will be nothing but a broken man by the time I’m done with you. Understood?”
The man stands with wide eyes as he replies in a hurried, shaky voice, “o-okay. Understood.”
And then Satoru grins like an angel before pulling you along with him, to take you up to the room and fuck you like the devil he truly is.
He pulls you into the elevator, hiding both of your faces from the camera by pushing you into the wall of the confined space, lips latched while your tongues glide against one another, hips rutting into the other looking for stimulation.
When the elevator dings, he stumbles backwards dragging you along with him, keeping your lips connected until right outside the space where he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist while he pulls the keycard out of his pocket. You busy yourself with kissing along his jaw and neck while he finds the room you were assigned, swiping the card and kicking the door closed once he’s walked through the threshold.
The room is large, and grand but nowhere near as extravagant as the one you were in earlier, not that it really matters considering the only focus is the plush king size mattress he lets you softly fall onto.
Satoru doesn’t waste any time unbuttoning his shirt and slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room while you slip the dress off, along with your panties, waiting in the center of the bed for him to join you.
And he does, with a salacious grin spread across his face crawling over to you, pushing you further into the mattress while you spread your legs, feeling his long, thick cock press against your soaked entrance.
“Wait, wait,” you gasp out, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, “condom.”
He stares at you like you’ve just shot him square in the chest before furrowing his brows, “No. We’ll- I’ll- fuck- I’ll pull out, I have to feel you.”
Satoru doesn’t have many rules - first and foremost, above all else, stay out of the limelight and his family's business and do not talk to anyone about the details of your relationship with him without a lawyer present if anyone should find out.
After that it’s simple, really only two other rules to abide by; take your birth control pills on time and wear a condom. And he’s been adamant about that until tonight. He’s always stated he didn’t want to risk getting anything and passing it to his wife because that would be a fucking nightmare to try and explain his way out of, but it would be an even bigger problem if he were to get you pregnant.
All of that seems to be out of the window tonight because he effortlessly pushes in past your entrance. He moans sinfully at the feeling while your eyes roll to the back of your head and arch your back, “you’re so wet, this- oh fuck- fuck, you feel so good.”
“What about your wife?” You manage to gasp out, mouth open, eyes half lidded, nails digging into his shoulder as he moves so painfully slowly that it’s amazing.
The heightened sense of touch, the feeling of him with nothing in between is intoxicating, makes your head a little dizzy, feeling every inch of his length as he pulls out and pushes back in.
“You jealous, baby?” He mutters, eyes hazy with lust, “want me to fuck you the way I do my wife?”
He pulls almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into yours causing you to stutter out, “fuck, n-no, no.”
“Think I’ll leave my wife, leave my family for a stripper?” His cock twitches at his words but he doesn’t move his hips again, doesn’t give you what you need so you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him the best you’re able, “I’ve fucking thought about it, having you like this every day.”
His large hands span your hips, halting your movements as he sits back up and pulls out to your dismay.
“Beg me.” He demands, running the red tip of his cock across your hypersensitive folds, nudging your clit a few times in the process just to watch the way you squirm below him, “beg me to fuck you.”
He takes a handful of your tits massaging them roughly before leaning down, swirling his tongue on your hardened nipple. He tweaks the other at the same time he tugs the other between his teeth.
“S’toru,” you whine needy and shamelessly, “I- fuck- please, please fuck me. Just- want to feel you, need you, please.”
Satoru watches you through his lashes the way you wriggle and writhe with your nipple tugged gently between his teeth. Cock is straining, leaking precum from the slit on the sheets of the bed - he’s just as needy as you, dying to be touched, to get the stimulation he’s craving just as badly as you but he’s being incredibly patient tonight.
His length is longer, harder and thicker than usual, twitches with your words and every whimper that leaves your lips but he still doesn’t fuck you - he’s waiting. Waiting for you to say he can fuck you, unimpeded and raw.
“Please, Satoru, baby,” tears are forming in the corner of your eyes, threatening to break free if he doesn’t work to extinguish the fire that’s burning in the center of your belly, to give you the release your body is screaming at you to have, “fuck me, please- so hard- always wanted to feel you-”
He can’t hold back anymore, not when you’re laying so pretty on the bed, tears streaming down your cheeks and begging him to give you what he knows only he can. Before you’ve realized what happened, he has you flipped over lining his cock with your entrance before slamming his hips flush with yours.
You cry out his name as he moves his hips with reckless abandon, finally, finally feeding the flames of desire burning in your core. His crystalline eyes are hooded with lust and desire as he grabs your hair at the roots and tugs harshly, other hand on your hip helping keep you in place as he pumps his hips faster and harder.
“You take all of me so fucking well,” he moans, “nobodies ever taken all of me.”
Wet, lewd squelching noises fill the space of the hotel room. You’re so wet from the jolt of electricity that thrums through your body with every touch and every time the tip of his cock grazes your sweet spot, and you’re only getting wetter as he continues to fuck into your rougher and rougher.
You know he’s comparing you to his wife when he babbles aimlessly like this, but you’ve learned to not let it bother you, not to think too much on it. After all, he’s spending his free time with you.
Sex with Satoru has always been good, he always seemed to know what you needed before you did, but tonight is different. Better somehow.
It’s all so much, so euphoric that there’s no way you’re able to hold back your impending orgasm; unable to help the way your thighs shake when the tip of his length kisses your cervix so deliciously you know it’ll ache in the morning.
The moment Satoru drapes his body over yours, fingers drawing small tight circles on your clit is the moment the flames erupt, warmth and pleasure coursing through your veins as your walls spasm and constrict around his cock so hard he has to slow his pace and take a deep shaky breath in order to not follow along right beside you.
He lets go of your hair, kissing your shoulders and center of your back several times before sitting back on the balls of his feet before taking both of your wrists in one of his large hands and holding them behind your back.
Satoru moves his hips slowly a few times before pulling you up so your back is flush with his chest.
“Like it when I fuck you like the filthy slut you are?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before hooking his fingers in your mouth turning your attention to him. Your tongue immediately finds his fingers, swirling over them as you look up to him, eyes so dark and filled with lust you can barely see any of the color anymore. He lets a tail of saliva fall from his mouth into yours and you moan the moment it hits your tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
He lets go of your wrist, splaying one hand over your stomach to feel the bulge from his cock each time he recklessly fucks into you, while the other finds its way to your breast, squeezing and gripping as he looses himself to pleasure inside of you.
There’s a mirror across from you, above the dresser in front of the bed - Satoru’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink, down his neck to the top of his chest. Lips parted with eyes on you as he watches and listens to the way you moan and whine from each stroke of his long cock.
“Satoru, cum in me,” his hips falter at your words, “fill me up, please.”
“Baby, I can’t.” But he absolutely wants to.
He pushes you back down on the bed, hand in the center of your back keeping your face pressed against the silky sheets. He takes the opportunity to grip your ass and spread your cheeks, watching the way you take all of him down the base without complaint. He lets his spit fall from his mouth, and watches the way you jolt when it makes contact with your other entrance unexpectedly and slides down to his cock, mixing with your arousal.
Satoru feels the way your pussy has a death grip on his cock again, knows you’re about to cum and he can’t bring himself to pull out. Not when you look and sound so pretty for him, not when you were literally begging for him to cum inside you earlier.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-” he’s moaning at the thought, getting lost inside you, “I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you so fucking full of me.”
His words are enough to set you off, having your pussy tightening around him like a noose as he paints your walls white, letting out a guttural groan as he rocks his hips back and forth, working you both through your releases.
There’s so much dripping out from between where you’re connected that his efforts to keep it all inside are fruitless. The view is absolutely obscene, cum mixed together and dripping onto the bed sheets below, the sounds are vulgar but it doesn’t stop him from fucking it deep and deeper inside, rolling his neck and head back through the hypersensitivity of his his tip.
Eventually he rolls you over onto your back, both panting, trying to catch your breaths. He’s still half hard, both hissing at the sensation when he runs his cock up through your puffy folds, dragging his wet, heavy cock on your stomach when he leans up and places several languid kisses to the center of your chest.
He licks a strip from your chest to jaw before sucking several small red starbursts on your neck, shoulder and down to your tits. Your nails are on his shoulder and back digging into his skin - he groans, loves the feeling, the sharp to dull pain that comes with it.
There’s been an unspoken rule between the two of you, no marks. Not on him at least. It’s more important his body be free from any unknown scratches and little red marks, should the press decide to have a field day seeing them and decide to investigate.
“Love leaving marks on you,” he whispers, voice low, gravely with desire again. “Everyone knows you belong to someone else, don’t they?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Tell me baby, who do you belong to?”
“You. Satoru, I’m yours.” You answer a little too honestly, holding his face a little too lovingly. He groans at the confirmation, knows he shouldn’t have made you say it but couldn’t resist hearing it.
You place several kisses on his lips and cheek. Everything is getting progressively sloppier, starting to come down from your respective highs. Satoru’s eyes are half lidded, not only from lust but from a tiredness that’s starting to seep through.
He returns the kisses languidly before you kiss along his jaw, sucking a small spot just under his jaw, nipping at the skin playfully a few times in the process. He doesn’t stop you because he knows that despite not being able to give you all of himself, he’s yours too.
Probably even more than he’s his wifes.
Slowly, he presses his tip against your entrance again, easily slipping past the ring of muscles while you wrap your legs around his waist. He hooks one of his arms under your knee, pushing it up so he’s able to get deeper.
Satoru fucks into you hard and fast like this. It’s messy, wet and sticky with your mixed arousal and cum connecting the two of you. Slick wet sounds fill the room again until you’re both on the brink of another imminent release.
“Think I might fucking love you.” He admits, voice low, filled with lust.
You want to say it back, but you know it’s not true, the shit he says when he’s buried ten inches deep in your cunt, cock bruising your cervix as he fucks into you.
“You’re so wet, already so full of me,” he moans at the thought of cumming inside you again. “G-gonna give you a baby, gonna give you part of me.”
“S’toru,” you gasp at his lust filled desires and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that too so you move your hips up wantonly, eagerly, “yes, please.”
It’s a bad fucking idea, to let him say these things, to agree with him. But you let him move your knees back to your shoulders, holding the heels of your feet for leverage as he presses his hips into you until you’re both cumming again.
He collapses on top of you, heavy breaths fanning your ear. You lay like this, chests rising and falling against one another until you’re overcome by sleep.
There’s light peeking in through semi-closed curtains, a beam of light hitting your face at the perfect angle, right into your eye. Knitting your brows together, you stifle a yawn before stretching out, feeling a warm body pressed into yours.
Your eyes flutter open, focusing on the dim light of the hotel room. It’s the same as it was last night, pristine, perfect. All except the sheets and blankets that are askew on the bed from your passion filled night.
The silky white sheet is covering most of you, but only on Satoru up to his hips. He must have gotten hot last night, threw everything off him in his sleep.
Looking up to him, his eyes are still closed, eyes moving slightly behind his lids. Soft white lashes flutter slightly with each movement while his arm that’s wrapped around your waist twitches slightly.
Your naked body is pressed against him, skin to skin. One leg is tangled between his while one hand is on his chest.
You let yourself take in the sight, not something you allow yourself to do frequently, but last night was indulgent, so this morning might as well be too. Satoru looks peaceful when he’s asleep. He’s always so calm and collected when you’re with him but never quite like this.
Truly without a care in the world with his eyes closed. No stress about someone finding out about you, exposing his lies and his secret life.
You stay like this for too long, watching him sleep, letting your index finger run along the scar on his chest. He says your name quietly, and you smile, just slightly at the thought of him dreaming about you.
You’re still high, you can tell, feeling light and airy and great about everything, but you know better than to let it last. You’ll be coming down again soon and everything will feel mundane, pointless, bothersome.
So you go to move, push yourself away from him to do your normal routine of getting ready for the day, pretending you were never here with him. His grip around your waist tightens, halting your movements.
“Stay…” Satoru whispers so quietly it’s barely audible.
Pursing your lips you look up at him, eyes still closed, no identifying feature signifying he’s woken up and is really, truly asking you to stay by his side, despite all the shit that would come along with it.
Your heart is beating fast, irregular, but you’re sure it’s from the stimulant. It has to be. Any other reason would be less than ideal.
After all, he probably thinks you’re his wife right now. Laying next to him, snuggled in close like she probably is every other day of the week.
You let out a single low wry chuckle at the morbid thought, licking your lips and shaking your head and whispering, “that’s not a good idea.”
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down and you mentally kick yourself for leaving the incredibly obvious fucking hickey just below his jaw. Satoru’s grip loosens just enough for you to wriggle out of his grasp.
Something you quickly learned after getting involved with Satoru is to have a bag packed at all times. That way in the mornings you can shower, removing the sweat and scents of not only the alcohol or drugs but also his cologne from your skin. It’s important to make it appear like you were never with him, to never leave in the same clothes you’ve arrived in.
After showering, you do your normal daily routine. Moisturizers, hair products, make up. You bring it all and you do it all - it would be no different if you were sitting at home, getting ready for your day.
That’s all this is, isn’t it? Just a routine. Meet a man, party, have mind blowing sex, act as if you’ve never met each other afterwards. Over and over again.
When you step back into the living space of the room, Satoru is no longer lying on his back, but rather his stomach, face buried into the pillow you used last night. His own overnight back is open, evident he had rifled through it for some reason when you were in the shower before climbing back into the bed, ignoring your presence.
Sitting on top is a black Versace sweatshirt. Looking back over to him, he’s unmoving aside from his back raising and falling slightly with each breath. Pursing your lips you quickly decide to grab it out of his bag and throw it into yours.
It’ll smell like him, even if only for a few days.
Picking up your garments from last night, you throw them into your bag before pulling out oversized sunglasses to hide your obviously still blown pupils and throw them on before turning the knob of the door to exit the room.
You don’t bother turning around, checking to see if Satoru watched you walk out. There’s no point. You know he didn’t. This is all routine.
After ensuring the door closes completely, you take a few steps down the hall while the elevator dings and a woman steps out of it.
She’s tall, in a pressed black pencil skirt and blazer. She looks classy with the way her ebony hair falls over her shoulders in soft curls.
She heads down the direction you’re coming from. Neither of you acknowledge the other as you pass by, on your own separate missions. Your breathing picks up, and the air feels tense after noticing the scowl spread across her features. And you all but jump at the sound of her banging on the room door you just walked out of moments prior.
You press the button to the elevator a few times, palms growing more clammy by the second, afraid the two of you might have been caught, that the boy from the front desk didn’t heed Satoru’s warning.
You watch from the corner of your eye as Satoru groggily opens the door, complaining about the loud sound. At least he had enough sense to put on a shirt beforehand, hiding the marks you left across his chest and back.
“You missed our counseling appointment. Is this some kind of joke to you?”
He’s quiet for a moment, eyes adjusting to the bright light of the hall and you could swear his eyes flicker to you for a split second before finally speaking.
“No, of course not. I went out with the guys last night and lost track of time. You know how it is.”
“All too well.”
She pushes past him into the room and you know he didn’t have enough time to do any clean up of his own, that the room still reeks of alcohol, sweat and sex. And if she even bothers to look around, he’ll have to explain why the shower is wet from having been used when he clearly hasn’t washed up.
“Good lord. What have you been doing here? And what is on your neck?”
His hand goes to his jaw instinctively to try to hide the mark you left last night, “uh, cigarette burn. The guys were messing around last night and I got mixed up in the fray.”
He doesn’t seem to be too worried about his wife’s line of questioning because he looks over to you, just as the elevator dings, giving you a smirk.
You watch him from the corner of your eye, biting your lip as you return the sly smile, stepping into the elevator once the doors open knowing he can’t and won’t stay away from you for long.
Taglist: @petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin
#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#violetsaffronfic#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#oneshot#unholy#dirty little secret#DLS
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♡ my dirty little secret
that's how i wanna keep it
#girlblogging#this is what makes us girls#girlblog#girlhood#just girly things#lana del rey#tw ana bløg#lizzy grant#bella hadid#cinnamon girl#girl boss gaslight gatekeep#girl blogger#nessa#nessa barrett#passenger princess#dirty little secret
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Dirty Little Secret pride art doodle.
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Dirty Little Secret — Rule 5: They are not exclusive.
“You should see how he looks at you sometimes,” Jackson answers, shrugging casually. “That man is down bad.” The retort is quick on her tongue—something about how of course he’s making eyes at her every now and then when she’s sucking his soul out of his dick every few days, and it has nothing to do with romance—but it dies on her tongue. She can’t explain how he’s misreading it without revealing she’s been sleeping with Tim again, despite her numerous lies about it being over the second he got the Sergeant job. Tim doesn’t have feelings for her. He’s just lusting after her.
read on ao3.
#the rookie#chenford#tim bradford#lucy chen#chenford fanfic#chenford fic#rookie#rookie fic#mine#dirty little secret
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An Affair to Remember
Pairing: Collegue!Bucky x f!Reader
Masterlist
Summary: You've worked with Bucky for quite some time now, from his first greeting and charming smile your affection for him bloomed. Although you kept your crush a secret, you couldnt help but very subtly flirt with him. He's much older, and well.. happily married. Which you wouldnt ever want to ruin, but theres no risk of that ever happening since he would never want you anyway.. right?
Warnings: Age-gap (reader over 20), adultry, slight smut (more to come), jealousy. Let me know what I missed!
Word count: ±4k
AN: Hello! Its my first time writing EVER. Its also my first time really postning anything on tumblr, so go easy on me. But if you do have any notes to make my writing better please let me know! :)
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My phone rang disturbingly loud, waking me in a startle. I jolted out of bed and franaticly searched for the source of the sound, laying concealed somewhere in my sheets. I became increasingly annoyed the more times the signal repeated itself, but it stopped soon after. Making the phone harder to find and me more agitated.
I eventually found it, noticing several missed calls from Hannah my bestfriend and collegue. Still drousy, I could't bother to call her back so I splayed out on the bed and waited for her to call me again. The rain tapping on my window had me drifting off to sleep, but just then the phone rung.
Disturbed from my sleep yet again, I answered the call asuming it would be her 'God its like 5 in the morning, why the fuck are you calling me?'
'Calm down now girl, by that reaction I presume I woke you up.' The voice on the other end chuckled.
I quirked my brow, last I checked Hannah was not a man, she was usually this sassy however. I looked at the number, not recognizing it and answered with a weary sigh 'Uhm, yes actually. Who is this again?'
'Dont you recognice my voice?' He laughed, 'It's Bucky' and just like that my morning was fixed in the flash of a second. I have been crushing on my married collegue for months at this point and I was fully aware how immoral it was.
Bucky continued 'I talked to Hannah this morning and she said you hadn't been answearing your phone and probably overslept, so I thought I'd give it a try myself.'
Overslept? I looked at the clock on my phone, the tiny letters appearing blurred by my tired eyes, I made them out to be 9:15. My face dropped as, 'Holy shit, I fucking overslept!' I exclamied and he laughed again, 'Yeah, not by a small margin either. We have that meeting today aswell, starting in 15, remember?'
I stumbled around my bedroom, phone in hand searching for aproppriate work clothes. 'I totally forgot' I chuckled, grabbig a tight white tee, a pair of bootcut jeans and struggled to get them on. One of my nails got stuck on a seam in the jeans, making the nail rip. I involuntarily let out a pained whine 'oh, fuck me!' not thinking to much of it and with no time to spare I just got my jeans on and headed for the bathroom to do my makeup.
'Hannah was the one supposed to pick me up' I sighed, 'Buck, you dont suppose you could be a gentleman and pick me up?' I asked sheepishly, 'Im sure I'll find a way to repay you' I said, mostly joking.
There was no answer on the other end, 'Buck, you there?' I asked, but still nothing. I thought I could hear breathing but chucked it up to a bad signal, 'Bucky?'.
Finally there was noise, Bucky cleared his throat and a strained voice came through 'Mmh right, I already told Hannah to go ahead and join the meeting and I'd come pick you up instead, I'll be there in about 15 minutes. If thats alright with you of course.'
'Yes. That'd be great! See you soon' I said and he hung up. I finished my makeup, put some of my best perfume on considering I'd be in close quarters with Bucky. I grabbed my bag, headphones and other necessities, put on my black plateu boots and looked out through my window. The rain was still pouring so I grabbed my black leather jacket and an umbrella aswell.
I checked to clock, 9:25. I had 5 minutes, I gave my appearance a quick once over before heading out. I looked really good, I thought. Maybe even good enough to seduce a married man thats twice my age.
About 15 minutes later Bucky pulled up in a sleek black car, I stood there with my umbrella splayed out over me, shivering.
He stepped out and opened the door for me, giving me an apologetic look. Which gave me a slight giddy feeling, because I imagined it ment that he cared for me. But it could've been because of his very appealing disheveld appearance too.
Either way, late or not. I didn't care much since I was already very late for work and beacause I was genuinley just glad to see him. I folded my umbrella, shook it of and laid it in the car. I turned to Bucky, giving him a quick hug and since I was feeling confident, a small kiss on the cheek aswell.
It made him tense up and I worried that I had crossed a line, but it was to late either way. The rained dribbled down on us, wetting our hair and leaving water stains on our shoulders. I put my hand on his bicep and looked up at him through my lashes, smiling sweetly 'Thank you for picking me up' I said, tilting my head 'but what took you so long though?'
'Nothing you need to worry about' he replied, raising his hand to brush a piece of wet hair from my face, then continued 'And sorry about this darling, it might be I that has to repay you.' he smirked, and gestured to my wet and shivering state.
I got into the car and let my imagination run free for a bit, thinking about what I hoped him "repaying" me could've ment, but I was torn out of my delusion by the sound of the car door closing on the other side. He lit the ignition and turned the heat up, then drove off.
He laid his hand on my thigh, rubbing it up and down in an effort to warm me up. His hand stilled and squeezed my knee, 'I missed you this morning you know.' he smiled.
I was to stunned to speak, beacuse we'd never never really touched eachother before. Partly out of respect for eachothers personal space, but mostly beacuse of his wife. Something had changed in us this morning, and im not sure why.
I laid my hand over his and glanced at him quickly with a shy smile. The scent of the car, along with my perfume, his cologne and the smell of our wet clothes made this moment feel like a piece of litterature. I turned my gace towards the wet roads and passing trees, enjoying this moment together.
Your reaction made him smile, all wet and pretty, acting innocent with thos big eyes and plush lips. Oh how he wished he never married.
We had settled into a comfortable silence, but my curiostiy eventually got the better of me. 'So? Im still wondering, how come it took you so long to get me?'.
He cleared his throat, 'I just, you know-' he couldn't figure out a belivable answer so he opted for a diversion instead, 'I guess I just wanted to get here in one piece, to ensure that you got to work at some point today. Why did you oversleep anyway?' He emphazied, chuckling at his bad attempt at redirecting the conversation.
His chuckle made him seem pleased with himself. He had extremly bad humor, just like a dad. I thought and decided to joke with him, saying it out loud.
It made him slightly uncomfortable at first, he let go of my knee and gripped the wheel nervously. I was afraid I had done something wrong, so I leaned closer and lightly rested my hand on his forearm 'Did I upset you Buck? Im so sorry if I did.'
'What?' He looked at her eyes, full of regret. 'Oh no darling, of course not! I was just thinking about a proper answer.' He said asuringly, 'its just that the wife and I haven't had much luck in that department'.
'No luck in the becoming a dad part or the having sex one?' I asked bluntly, my reflexes covered my mouth with my hand.
I have no idea what came over me. I immedietly regretted the question but since it was already done, I decided to play it cool and act innocent. He looked at me dumbfounded, seemingly as surprised by my bluntness as I was.
We locked eyes for a moment and I tilted my head to the side as if it was the most normal question in the world.
He couldnt help but chuckle, he would never have gussed youd ask something like that. But he answered all the same 'The latter, I suppose' he said shaking his head, barely beliving that he even answered the question.
I felt a bit bad for him, I would never derive him of sex. Since I already was in deep water and feeling as though I couldn't make it any worse. I decided to roll with my newfound bluntness.
'So.. youre sure It has nothing to do with your recently prolonged car rides, flushed cheecks, messy hair, wrinkled and half tucked shirt?' I bit my lip, waiting for his reaction.
He didnt know what to answer, he looked at you wondering if he should tell you off like a child for suggesting such things or if he should tell you the truth. That he'd been desperate for a change in his marrige and hadn't stopped thinking about you for the past weeks, that you were the only object of his desire. That when he slept with his wife he imagined you in her place, laying under him, on top of him, stading on your knees infront of him or bent over the nearest surfice. That he stopped sleeping with his wife beacuse she just didnt do it for him anymore.
Or that he didn't want to tell you that when he hung up your call this morning, he had driven to a secluded parking spot and jacked of while thinking of the whine he heard you make over the phone.
He decided to dismiss your question because he still loved his wife after all and didnt want to ruin their marrige. But at the very same time a part of him still hoped you'd thought of him the way he had thought of you.
'Im sure I dont know what you mean' was all he could say, giving you a quick look and a smirk.
I didnt want to push my luck any further, so I decided to accept his answer and let the subject rest. We continued the rest of of the ride in silence, enjoying the sound of the rain smattering on the roof.
10 minutes later we arrived to work and Bucky opened to door for me again. He took my hand and helped me out, locked the car and we hurried our way inside the building to avoid getting even more wet. The lobby was empty since everyone was presumably already in the meeting, which we had hoped to make it in time for at least half of it.
Bucky laid his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked to the elevator, he felt it was a justified action since you were in a hurry. But as you were waiting for the elevator to arrive, his hand lingered for a moment longer than what propriety called for. He looked at you, searching for your gaze and hoping to find any sign of mutual affection.
I looked up at him and the amount of butterflies I got was indescribable, his eyes met mine. The eyecontact accompanied by his touch, his cologne and his closeness made my knees go weak. I took a step closer to him closer to him and he started massaging circles into my back with his thumb and you hummed appreciatively in response.
That was all the confirmstion he needed.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, we stepped inside. He lets go of my back for a second to push the button to our floor and waits for the doors to close before he places the hand even lower on my back, right at the curve of my ass. I leaned against him, grabbing a fist of his jacket and gaze up at him with big doe eyes and a truly, innocent expression this time.
He meets your eyes, the sight before him makes him absolutley ravenous. He squeezed your ass firmly with one hand and as you whined in response grabbed your throat lightly in the other. You looked mesmerized and the thought of you letting him be in controll this way made him stiffen up. He slid his hand to the back of your neck and traced his thumb along your jaw as he inched closer to your face.
His lips a mere ghost over mine, feeling his breath on my skin is the most erotic thing to ever happen to me. Barely a second away from a kiss, the elevator grinds to a halt three floors to early. Taking me completley by surpries, it caused my feet to become unsteady. Bucky grabbed my hips quickly, helping me find my footing as the elevators made that ding. He lets go of my hips and moves his hands up to my shoulders in the matter of a second, just as the doors open.
'Whoa there! A bit light on your feet huh?' Bucky says while laughing as three suit-clad men step inside. 'Hey Barnes, there you are! Good god, man. You look like you've been sailing!' The tall one says and they all laugh, including Bucky.
I was a bit annoyed by Buckys quick rejection of me but brushed it of as I understood his reasoning, he was married after all, and I didnt really want to be know as the adultress whore either.
The doors close again, 'Well its pouring out there Mr. Tanner, sir. Did we miss the meeting?' He asks the the tall man, who im just realising is our boss. 'No It actually went on longer than excpected, we took a quick brake and are headed back up there right now.'
Mr. Tanner looks back at me, raising his eyebrow 'And whos this drenched little thing?' He says and smiles at me, slightly appaled by his audacity, but he was lean and handsome and I didnt want to lose my job so I smile back. 'Im from your group sir, collegue to Mr. Barnes, sir. He gave me a ride to work.' I say as proffesionally I can muster and extend my hand for him to shake.
He takes it, bows down and kisses the back of it, letting his lips linger and glances up at me 'How good of him' the man says and gives Bucky a side eye, 'It's a pleasure, miss. I hope I'll be seeing more of you from now on.'
'Same goes you for Mr. Tanner, sir.' I say and glance at Bucky, who's face have fallen. Much to my pleasure, Bucky appears to be..? I cant distinguish it between jealousy or protectiveness. The elevator halts again, dinging and the doors slide open.
'I'll see you two in the meeting then' Mr. Tanner says with a nod. He then turns to me before walking out, 'make sure to stop by my office girl, sooner rather than later.' He winks at me. Bucky gives him a curt nod 'We'll be there in a minute sir.' He says, forcing a smile and the men walk out.
I look at Bucky, shrugging my shoulders as if what just happened were no big deal and seeing his furious gaze made giggle. I step out of the elevator with Bucky close on my heel. We were a few feet away from the door to the conference room when he side-steped me, grabbed my wrist and pulled me around the corner.
Bucky hade never felt jelousy so strong before, not even for his own wife. Yet he could kill that man for even slightly touching you. When you were out of sight, he forcefully pressed your back up against a wall and placed his hand next to your head, leaning over you. The look of pure innocent excitement on your face made him want to tear you apart.
I had never been with anyone in this way before, I had slept with boys my own age of course. But it couldnt compare, it felt nothing as exciting as this, I could almost feel the wetness pooling between my legs. Bucky inched closer again, determined not to let anything come in our way again, he closed the distance. Our lips met in a feverish frenzy and I completley melted into him, he wrapped his other arm around my back to help me stand upright and then pressed his body closer to mine. There were no distance left between us and I could feel his bulge pressing up against my thigh, I looped one leg around his hip making his bulge hit that sweet spot and I rocked my hips against him, making my jeans cause the perfect friction. He let out a breathy moan which was music to my ears, I could've come undone from the sound of his moan alone. I leaned my head back against the wall and grabbing a fistful of his hair, lightly pulling on it, making him whine inbetween his furious kisses.
Along your jaw and down your neck he kissed and ripped you shirt by the neckline to get better access to that sweet spot inbetween your throat and collarbone. You yelped in surprise which only spurred him on further, becoming even more agressive with it. He couldn't tell his own moans apart from yours at this point and it drove him mad.
Your bliss was interrupted when you heard a voice.
'Oh my god' The woman said, her jaw dropping to the floor. We stopped in our tracks, Bucky let go of me and turned away from her, breathing furiously. I look at the ground gathering myself before facing her. Ready for whatever consequences our actions would hand us, I smoothed my hair and clothes out, cleared my throat and turned towards the woman. I had not realised how tense my face had become until that moment, for when I saw who it was I immedietly relaxed 'Hannah, thank god its you.'
'Are you insane?!' She exclaimed in a hushed voice, 'What if it had been literally anyone other than me?' her jaw was still practically on the floor. I walked up to her while Bucky was still collecting himself, waiting for certain parts of him to calm down.
Altough still in shock, she seemed to be proud 'I really cant belive this, in the office too? You're bold girl.' She said, changing to a whisper 'Good for you honestly, you got him at last huh?' I looked at her nodded excitedly and bit my lip. My crush on Bucky was of course no news to her.
'We really need to get inside before our dissaperance raise any suspicions, but I want all the details later, ok?' she looked me inte the eyes, and I nodded yes. She gave my appearence a once over, 'Girl your eyes were running? And did he rip your shirt?' She the shirt between her fingers and gasps, jealousy tinting her voice 'My goodness what an animal, good job you.' She said and pointed at Bucky, giving a smirk and he chuckled.
Hannah touched up my makeup then took my hand and we began walking around to corner towards to conference room, I gave Bucky one last look as we walked inside.
Me and Hannah sat at the end of the table and Bucky joined the rest of us a few minutes later, taking a seat next to Mr. Tanner. He was looking as dapper as always, as if nothing ever happened.
Hannah leaned in closer to me and whispered 'You're coming to the party with me tonight right?'
'Party?' I questioned.
'Yeah, the firm's been doing good and their celebrating' she replied, 'Im sure Bucky will be there' she said with smile tugging at the corner of her lips. I looked at her, eyes gleaming with mischief and then glanced at Bucky.
'I wouldnt miss it for the world.'
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#possessive bucky#jealous bucky#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky smut#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky fic#collegue!bucky#dilf!bucky#secret affair#dirty little secret#smut#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#the avengers#avengers#bucky series#adultry#marvel smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fanfic
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Could we get an insight into Toji's thoughts and perhaps even inner conflict in Dirty little secret, when he realizes he's not only thirsting for reader/Shiu's daughter but also begins to develop feelings for her throughout the story? (ily 💖)
Hey baby!! So Toji was lowkey stupid at the beginning of dirty little Secret lol, he actually just thought reader was hot asf and figured he'd 'have some fun' he did feel bad for Shiu but he low key thought she was so hot, he'd been stalking her Insta since she was about nineteen lmao, reader is rly 'that girl'.
But then he ended up feeling things for her, things he hasn't felt since Gumi's mama. But even more intense! At that point he knew he was screwed, and thought it best to leave (that's why he tries to leave even before Shiu finds out!) but reader is already in love.
It's def mostly physical at first but then there are moments where Toji would look at her, and see her so beautiful, and feel such a deep connection it actually scared him. Then, he thought, that there was no way reader could feel the same, and no way he was good enough for reader :(
Thankfully they couldn't keep apart, and Toji confessed his love back to reader, but he was down bad from that moment in the pool in chapter one, because when he kissed reader, he felt something super deep!
Basically (I'm rambling sorry lol) Toji wanted a hook up but fell hard, and reader wanted some experience, and fell just as hard. And now look at them!!! Lil cuties.
Love you angel, hope that explains some!! <3
Masterlist for those who haven't read it! Dirty Little Secret
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PREVIEW dirty little secret
{OUT NOW}
Synopsis: Childhood best friends' relationship is strained when you drunkenly sleep with his new best friend. Chenle’s panic about y/n regretting their one night stand turns into a secret relationship. Just as you think everything is fine, you're faced with the ultimatum: “It’s either him or me.” or in other words: A small silly little pinky promise will destroy a friendship
Genre: friends to lovers, hidden romance, forbidden (not really) lovers??
Content Warnings: Dreamies getting drunk, mention of blackout, one night stand, turned more, ANGST with fluffy end, Jisung is a little shit in this, SMUT (but very vanilla smut)
Word Count: 7.2k (preview is 1.4k)
Release Date: Sep. 16
TAGLIST OPEN!
"Come on! You never miss a hangout," Jisung whined into the phone.
“They always end up with me getting drunk and sleeping on the dorm couch, no thanks,” you replied.
“This time it’s at Chenle’s house. You can even call dibs on his spare bedroom!” Jisung reasoned.
“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You already knew the answer.
“Nope, see you later!”
Once Jisung ended the call, you had a moment to think. Great, you got yourself into another hangout. It’s not that you hate hanging out with the guys, but you've started to develop a little crush on Chenle.
He’s been extra flirty with you lately. It’s not because he likes you; he's been playful with everyone! Well, that's what you try to tell yourself.
But you can't like him! Jisung would go nuts. He was the one to introduce you to all the guys, promising you wouldn't like any of them when you were twelve. But it seems like Jisung has held you up to that silly pinky promise.
One time you told Jisung that Renjun's new haircut looked really good on him and Jisung freaked out, claiming you were falling for Renjun and it was against the “Bro code.” This made you confused because that's not what bro code is, but he looked very upset, so you didn't question it.
Now there is no way you will ever admit to liking Chenle. If he got upset with Renjun, you know he would be furious if you even flirted back with Chenle. That’s his best friend! He’s not the type to be happy about his boy and girl best friend dating. You're sure he’s told that to Chenle so you never took his flirting too seriously. That didn't stop your heart from beating faster after every time he looked at you.
A group of guys yelled as soon as Chenle opened the door.
“They’re already this rowdy,” you sighed, already coming up with excuses as to why you had to leave.
Chenle laughed at your disapproval written all over your face. “Stick by me, I swear I'm not as bad as them.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was literally the loudest one. You let out a “mmh” before walking around him to be greeted with a bunch of “Y/NNNNs.” You could definitely tell they started drinking without you by the way Donghyuck reached out to you with grabby hands.
“You guys already started without me!” you grabbed an already-opened beer on the table and took a swig out of it.
“It's not our fault you're late,” Jaemin teased.
“Sorry, I have a life.”
“Reading fanfiction?” Renjun giggled.
“Can’t believe I'm already getting attacked, I just arrived!”
“I told you to stick by me,” Chenle laughed.
“You're right. It’s me and you now… Let’s get drunk!” You smiled, grabbing another beer to give to Chenle.
You're glad you didn't have to wake up on a couch hungover. Waking up in a bed surrounded by the comfiest blanket wrapped around you felt like heaven. You did not want to wake up.
You stretched to feel the coldness of the other side of the bed. But your leg hit another leg that wasn't your own. You don’t remember anything after Donghyuck’s karaoke challenge. Did someone sleep over too? Mark was supposed to pick up the guys and bring them back to the dorm… Maybe he forgot?
Moving your head to see who ended up passed out with you, you froze.
“WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON?!?”
Should you look? Should you not look? You slowly turn your head to check who you fell asleep with. Maybe you didn't hook up with one of your friends… Maybe you just overheated and took off your clothes.
Turning over, you yelp in shock. Chenle is still sleeping next to you. Even worse, he’s shirtless, and you don’t really want to check under the sheets to confirm your suspicions.
But before you could panic any further, you noticed that Chenle was still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. You took a moment to calm yourself down and gather your thoughts. Maybe there was a logical explanation for this situation.
You carefully wriggled out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Chenle. As you grabbed your clothes scattered across the room, memories of last night started to flood back. The drunken laughter, the friendly banter, and when all of the guys left. All you could remember was cleaning up the kitchen because you felt bad leaving it such a mess. Then Chenle's hands grabbed yours in protest and said he would clean it up in the morning. But instead of agreeing you tried to pull his hands away which caused him to press into you.
Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality you quickly threw your clothes back on and made your way downstairs. Needing some water because of how dry your throat felt. You didn't want to even think about why your throat hurt...
Once downstairs you can finally think about what the hell just happened. But no, life hates you. Instead, you were met with Mark washing dishes.
"Finally you woke up" Mark laughed before turning around and being met with a face he did not expect to see.
"Why did you come down from Chenle’s room?"
You blinked at Mark's question, trying to come up with a plausible response. "Oh, I just woke up and wanted some water," you stammered, attempting to act casual.
Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Water? Really? Because it looked like you were in quite a rush to get out of there."
You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for words. "I just... didn't want to disturb Chenle. He's still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."
Mark's eyes narrowed, studying your face. "Uh-huh. Sure." He seemed unconvinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he went back to washing the dishes.
You took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation and headed towards the kitchen table “What do I do Mark, I fucked up did I?”
Mark sighed, turned off the water, and dried his hands on a kitchen towel before looking at you with a serious expression. "Well, it depends on what you want. Did something happen between you and Chenle last night?"
You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Mark. "I don't remember much, but I woke up in his bed, and I think we hooked up. I have no idea what went down, and I'm panicking."
Mark sighed again, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, it happens. People get drunk, things get blurry. Maybe nothing happened, or maybe something did. The important thing is to communicate with Chenle. Figure out what both of you remember and how you both feel about it."
"But what if he thinks it’s gross or something?" you worriedly questioned.
Mark shook his head. "Chenle is a good guy, and he knows how these things can happen when everyone's been drinking. Just talk to him. Honesty is the key here."
Taking a deep breath, you nodded.
• ──────── •
Before you could process the situation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Chenle, struggling to pull down his hoodie and hastily reaching for his keys, descended in a rush of movement.
"Easy there, you're going to hurt yourself" Mark teased, chuckling as Chenle glanced up with an expression of sheer panic.
"Mark, fuck! I messed up big time. Y/N's going to hate me, and she'll never want to see me again. I genuinely like her, and I've messed everything up," Chenle exclaimed, the urgency in his voice evident.
Mark raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with you. "Well, you might want to talk to her about that instead of assuming the worst," he suggested.
Chenle's eyes widened as he finally noticed your presence. "Y/N, I... I'm so sorry if I did something wrong. I don't really remember what happened, but I know we ended up doing something, and now I'm just freaking out," he rambled, looking genuinely distressed.
You took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Chenle, let's just talk about it, okay? I don't remember much either, but panicking won't help. We need to figure out what actually happened and how we both feel about it."
Chenle nodded, relief washing over his face. "Yeah, you're right. We should talk." He looked at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod.
“This is something you two have to figure out.” Mark grabbed his jacket and left.
TBC
© 2024 fullsunstrawberry all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!
#dirty little secret#chenle#chenle friends to lovers#chenle angst#chenle fluff#chenle x reader#chenle smut#zhong chenle#nct dream#nct dream angst
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Dirty Little Secret (2) // JTK
Characters: Jake x reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, hella smut, angst. Author's Note: Only took me long enough to get this done, but it is here :)
Next Day
Waking up the next morning, you feel Jake’s arm wrapped around your waist as he clings to you tightly. His muscles tense and you feel his warm breath cascade down your neck. His lips connect with your skin making goosebumps rise. “Are you awake?” He mumbles against your shoulder. Turning over onto your other side so that you are facing him, you look up at him as he smiles. “Hi..”
You return the smile. “Hi..” Your smile fades and you pull away from him before turning back over to retrieve your phone. “Oh fuck, I have to go..” You say as you quickly jump out of bed.
Jake sits up, his eyebrows creased together. “Why do you have to go?”
“I promised Danny that I would meet him for lunch and I have to be there in an hour.”
“Then stay here until then.” Jake says as he crawls across the bed and grabs hold of your hand. “Please?”
“And show up in your clothes?” You say. “I have to go home and change.”
“I have your clothes washed.” He says pointing to your stuff on top of his dresser.
“I wore those yesterday, he’ll know something’s up if I show up in those again.”
Jake pouts and bats his eyes. “Please don’t go.” He pulls you back onto the bed and places a gingerly kiss on your lips. “Take a raincheck.”
“I can’t do that to him.” You say as you pull away. “I’ll call you later.”
–
As you step inside the restaurant, you spot Danny seated at a booth and taking a drink of his beer. Approaching the table he looks up at you and beams. “Hey!” He says sliding out of the booth to greet you with a hug.
“I am so sorry I’m late.” You say returning the hug. “I overslept and rushed to shower.”
Danny chuckles and the two of you sit down at the booth. “You should start setting an alarm, you know you’re bad at that.”
“I guess I fell asleep before I could.” You say.
“So how was dinner with Jake last night? Was he nice?” He smirks.
You smile and nod your head. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Daniel chuckles and lifts his beer to his lips. “I was honestly surprised that he took you out to dinner.”
Took me out to dinner.
Took me back to his place.
Fucked him on the stairs.
But you can’t tell him that.
You nod your head in agreement. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it either.” You say.
“He’s usually a very reserved guy so seeing him opening up to you, it kind of makes me happy.” Danny says. The waitress comes over to the table and you place your drink order and food orders. “But..”
“Uh oh..”
He chuckles and takes another drink of his beer. “I don’t want you to date him.”
Your eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m only saying this because I don’t want him to hurt you and I don’t want to lose you as my friend if he does.”
“Danny–”
“I know it’s a lot to ask and it’s not my place to do so–”
“Yeah, you’re right, Daniel.” You say standing up from the booth. “It’s not your place.”
“(Y/N)--”
“No, Danny, you don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t date.”
“I’m just trying to protect you.”
“No, you’re being selfish..”
—
Strumming his guitar and lost in his own thoughts, it only lasts for so long when he hears the doorbell being frantically rung. Setting his guitar down on the couch beside him, he stands up and goes over to the door and pulls it open to find you standing on the porch. Chest heaving and fists called at your sides.
“Are you okay?” He asks as you storm into his place.
“I wanted to just punch him in the face. Oh! He made me so mad!”
“Who?” Jake says as he follows you into the living room. “Danny?’
“Yes, Danny!” You grab the whiskey jar off of the drink cart and take a long drag of it.
Seeing you like this, frustrated and downing half of his liquor sends the blood to his core, his cock hardening beneath his sweatpants.
“Wh-What did he say?” He stutters.
You pull the jar away from your lips and set it down roughly on the drink cart. “He says that he’s happy that we’re friends but he told me that he doesn’t want us to date.” You watch as Jake’s eyebrows furrow.
“He said that?”
You nod your head. “Who the fuck does he think he is telling me who I can’t and can’t date? Who? Hmm? My daddy?”
The way you say ‘daddy’ turns him on even more. No, Danny isn’t your daddy. He is, and he’ll make damn sure you know it. Walking across the room, he pulls you against his body and crashes his lips onto you. He shoves his tongue into your mouth and you allow it. His hand rests on the back of your neck while the other one explores your body beneath your blouse. You push him away slightly, just long enough for the both of you to catch your breath.
“Who is your daddy?” He whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Hmm? Who?”
“Y-You..” You breathe, your eyes slowly closing as you let him kiss you again.
He wraps his arms around your waist and hoists onto his hips, not once breaking the kiss. He carries you over to the couch and carefully moves his guitar out of the way before flopping down and allowing you to straddle his lap. He pulls away and grabs the ends of your shirt and pulls it up and over your head.
“No one tells you what to do.” He says, running his fingers down your chest and cups your breasts in his hands. “Only I do.” He reaches around you and unclasps your bra and tosses it to the floor. He lays you on the couch and unbuttons your pants before pulling those off too. You can feel the bulge of his cock pressing against the inside of your thighs as he thrusts his hips against you. He presses his lips to your neck and leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses down your chest and torso before coming to a stop above the waistline of your panties. He hooks his fingers around the waistline and drags them down your legs.
“Baby, you’re so beautiful.” He says as he moves down in between your legs and leaves kisses on the insides of your thighs. When he reaches your center, he licks his tongue through your folds and dips ever so slightly inside. A moan slips out of you as your hands grip tightly to his hair.
He slides a finger inside to work alongside his tongue before plunging in a second finger. It wasn’t long before he had you coming undone on his tongue and fingers. He hums in pleasure as you licks you clean. Pulling away, he leans back on his heels as he stares at you.
“Turn over..” He says twirling his finger in the air.
You do as he says and turn over onto your hands and knees. You feel the tip of his cock slowly slide through your folds until he’s filling you completely. “Fuck, Jake…”
He bends over you, his lips pressed to your ear. “Who?”
“Daddy..”
“Mmm, that’s what I thought.”
He pulls out slowly before slamming back into you making you yelp.
“Are you okay?”
You nod your head. He starts out slowly thrusting into you. Once he knows that you’re comfortable, he slowly gets faster. His hands grip your hip, his fingers digging into your pelvis.
“You feel so good.. Taking me so well..” He feels you clench around him and he groans. “There you are baby..” He slides his hand around your front and between your legs and begins to rub circles into your clit. Your cries filled the room, his name falling from your lips as your orgasm surges through your body. He reaches his just seconds later, completely spilling into you.
Pulling out of you, he gently rolls you over onto your back as he takes his shirt and wipes you clean. Snuggling behind you on the couch, he grabs a throw a blanket and covers the both of you before wrapping his arms around your waist.
“You did so good.” He says against your neck.
His phone buzzes on the coffee table and he reaches over you to grab it. Danny’s name flashes on the screen. You scoff and push away from Jake to get off the couch.
“Hey..” He answers the call. His eyes immediately flash to you as he speaks again. “No, I haven’t seen her..” He holds his index finger to his lips. “Oh, uh, now isn’t a good time…” Jake abruptly stands from the couch. “You’re what?”
A knock comes on the door. Quickly you gather your clothes and Jake ushers you upstairs to his bedroom. “Don’t make a sound.” He says before going back downstairs.
Throwing open the door, Danny rushes into the house. “Oh sure, come on in.” Jake says.
“I’m sorry.. I-I just had a bad conversation with (Y/N) and now I can’t get a hold of her.”
“Well.. What’d you say?”
“Frankly, if I tell you, I’m afraid you’ll punch me.”
Jake chuckles and folds his arms over his chest. “Try me, Danny..”
Danny inhales deeply and before speaking again. “I told her that I was glad that you two were getting along but..”
“But what?”
“I don’t want you two to be together.”
Jake’s eyebrows knit together. Though he already knew this, he had to play the act of not knowing so he wouldn’t raise any suspicions. “Why don’t you want us to be together?” He asks.
“Because..”
“Danny..”
Danny runs a hand through his hair. “Because you aren’t exactly a good guy.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake snaps, his arms falling to his sides.
“Look, I know you mean well and you’re a great friend but I don’t want you to hurt her.”
“Hurt her..” Jake nods his head. “Not once have I ever hurt anyone,” He says. “I’ve been the one that’s been hurt. Why are you making me out to be the bad guy?”
“I’m just trying to protect her.” Danny says. “So please, respect my friendship with her.”
“So I can’t be friends with her?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “I really don’t want to keep discussing this.”
“Jake, you’re being childish.”
Jake’s eyes grow wide as he stares at his best friend–who he thinks is quite crazy at this moment. “I’m being childish? You’re the childish one who’s forbidding a relationship that doesn’t even exist!”
It kind of does. But what he doesn’t know, won’t exactly hurt him.
“Are you mad?!” Jake exclaims throwing his arms in the air. “You can’t dictate who does what, Daniel!”
“She’s my friend, Jacob!” Daniel retorts. “I don’t want you to screw it up!”
Jake’s fists clench at his sides and he inhales sharply before exhaling. “Get out..”
“Jake..”
“I said, get out. I don’t appreciate you coming into my home and demanding things from me.”
Daniel clenches his jaw and stares at the hard wood floor beneath his feet before lifting his head again. “I don’t want you hanging around her anymore, you got it?” He says before walking out of the house, the door slamming closed behind him.
Throwing open the door to his bedroom, he storms over to the bed and flops down on the mattress. “Didn’t go well?” You say crawling across the bed to him. He shakes his head as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind and you kiss his cheek. “I believe I just made it worse..” He says. “He doesn’t want me around you at all.”
“You know he can’t do that.” You say.
Jake sighs and places his hand on your forearm. He lowers his head and gently kisses the back of your hand. “Do you think it’s a good idea for us to keep doing this?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained on the carpet in front of him.
“Continue seeing each other?” You ask as you lean back on your knees, pulling your arms away from around his neck. He nods his head. “Do you want to end this?”
Jake leans his elbows on his knees and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. “No, but..”
“But you also don’t want to hurt Danny.” You say, earning a slight nod of Jake’s head as a response. “Well, um..” You climb off the bed and pull on your shoes. “If this is what you think is best, I’ll respect it.”
—
It’s only been a couple weeks since you’ve last seen or heard from Jake. If Danny invited you out to the bar, Jake wouldn’t join. He kept his promise to Danny that he wouldn’t hang around you anymore. Respecting his friendship with you. The last thing he wants is to screw up a good thing that Danny has.
“Where’s Jake?” Sam asks as he joins you, Danny, and Josh at the bar and leans against the countertop.
“He said something about wanting to work on a few things for the album.” Josh mutters. “Which I call bullshit.”
“Why do you say that?” Sam asks.
Josh shrugs his shoulders. “Something happened but he won’t talk about it, which is unlike him.. He rarely ever keeps things from me.”
You stay quiet, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. But you can’t say anything in fear of blowing your secret affair you had with him. Danny nudges your side. “You’re awfully quiet over there,” He says. “You okay?”
You nod your head and take a sip of your beer. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just..tired.”
“Long day at work?”
“You could say that.” You clear your throat and down the rest of your beer. “I’m gonna use the restroom. Order me another beer for when I get back.”
“It’ll be here.” Danny says.
Sliding off the barstool, you make your way through the crowded bar and head for the bathroom. Stepping out of the stall, you approach the sink to wash your hands. As the warm water washes over your hands, you are completely lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear the door open nor hear someone walk in until you looked up to see Jake in the mirror. He stands behind you with his hands stuffed in the pocket of his jeans. His sunglasses cover his eyes but you can see his eyebrows raised above the rim of them as he watches you.
Shaking your hands in the sink to rid them of the excess water, you turn away from the sink and grab a couple paper towels to dry your hands off.
“So you’re just gonna ignore me then?” He says as you walk towards the door.
You stop at the door with your hand wrapped around the handle. You debated wanting to just turn back around and slap him or walk out. You chose the latter of the two and pulled the door open and left the bathroom.
“Hey, don’t walk away!” He calls after you in the hallway.
You stop in your tracks and spin around to face him. By now he’s up in your face, his warm breath coming as a breeze across your face.
“You shouldn’t be here, Jacob.” You say before turning back around on your heels. You try to walk but he grabs your hand and pulls you back. You collide with his chest and he roughly kisses you. As much as you wanted to kiss him, you couldn’t. You push him off of you and pull your hand away. “You decided to end it. You don’t get to waltz your way back to me.”
“Just tonight,” He says. “Please.. Give me tonight.”
“Danny’s expecting me back out there,” You say looking down at your shoes. “I have to go..” You walk away leaving him there alone in the hallway.
Danny smiles when you return to the bar counter and slide back onto your stool. “I was about to come find you,” He says. “Thought maybe you got lost back there.”
You shoot him a fake smile and reach for the cold beer he had gotten for you. “Something like that..” You say before lifting the bottle to your lips and chugging half of it. He stares at you, eyes wide and jaw gaping just a little. “What?”
He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing..” He says taking a drink of his own beer. –
Saying your goodbyes to Danny, Sam, and Josh, you make your way across the parking lot to your car. You hear someone clear their throat and when you look up you see Jake leaning against your car. He holds out his hand.
“Jake, why are you still here?”
“Keys.” He says blatantly ignoring your question.
“I’m perfectly fine to drive home.” You say stepping around him. As you go to unlock your car, he swipes your keys from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaim as you reach for them. He only holds them out of reach. “Jacob, give me back my keys.”
“I’m driving you home.”
“No, you’re not.” You say as you try reaching your keys. “Please give me back my keys.”
“Get in the car.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “I’d rather walk..” You say before stepping around him and making your way out of the parking lot and down the sidewalk.
“Would you stop being such a brat?” He says as he follows after you but you keep walking and trying your hardest to just ignore him. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”
Just keep walking. Your apartment isn't far from here.
“Are you seriously going to keep acting like this?” He says as he catches up to you. He stops in front you, anger fuming in his eyes.
“You don’t get to end things, Jake, and then come back expecting me to just fall to my knees and suck you off.”
“Would that be so bad?” He says, a smirking now playing on his face.
“Go fuck yourself, Jake.” You say before pushing past him and storming off down the street.
You don’t hear him following after you so you let out the breath you had been holding in. Reaching your block, you hear a car slow on the side of your street. Your car. And who’s driving? Jake. You curse yourself for not taking your keys when you stomped off.
“Get in the car, (Y/N).” He says out of the rolled down passenger window.
“No..”
“Dammit, get in the car!” He shouts.
“I don’t like being yelled at.”
He huffs and pulls the car over to the side of the street before getting out and storming over to the sidewalk. He throws open the passenger door. “Get in. Now.”
“Or now you’re ordering me?” You say crossing your arms over your chest again.
“Last time I checked, I am your daddy.”
You scoff and roll your eyes. “Like hell you are.”
“You can’t seriously be mad at me..” He says. “You know the reason why I ended it and you said you respected it!”
“So what? You think changing your mind is magically gonna get me in your bed again?”
“One can dream.”
“Yeah, one can dream, Jake. And you can do that in your own bed, away from me.”
Jake sighs and hangs his head. “Please.. Please just get in the car.”
You huff and drop your arms to your sides. You walk over to the car and slide into the passenger seat. Jake closes the door and goes back over to the driver’s side and slides inside before driving off. He tries to rest his hand on your thigh but you slap it away.
“Ten and two, Jake.” You say. A slight smile tugs at his lips as he places his hand back on the steering wheel.
Parking the car in your spot in the lot of your apartment complex, he pulls the keys from the ignition and hands them over to you. You take them back and push open the door to get out. He follows suit and walks around the back of the car before leaning against the trunk.
“Can I come in?” He asks.
You lower your head and pick at the strap of your purse. Your roommate is out of town for the weekend so essentially he could come inside, but did you really want him to?
“Fine..”
Pushing open your apartment door, you kick off your shoes into the closet and hang your purse up on the wall hooks before heading for the living room. Neither of you spoke, not sure of exactly what to say besides yell at each other. Jake sits one end of the couch while you sit on the other end with your legs criss-crossed in front of you.
Finally Jake broke the silence. “I made a mistake,” He says. “It’s been hell having to avoid you these last couple weeks. I’ve been craving you every damn day and it’s killing me.”
“Aw, is Jakey sex deprived?” You say with a snarky tone.
Jake sucks on his teeth and rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to be serious here..”
“Okay, Okay..” You nod your head. “I’m sorry..”
Jake inhales before continuing on. “I had thought ending things would spare hurting either one of us in the long run, but obviously I can see that I was wrong.”
“Jake..” You move closer to him until your knees brush up against his hip. “We’re both adults, we can make our own decisions. I chose to hook up with you at Josh’s party, I chose to fuck you on the stairs, and I chose you when I was angry with Danny.” You reach for his chin and turn his head so that he’s looking at you. “Danny can be mad all he wants–should he ever find out.” You shrug your shoulders. “I do find it hot sneaking around though.. Running the risk of getting caught is a thrill..”
Your breath against his face sends a chill down his spine.
“And if I’m being honest, I was debating about sucking you off in the bar’s bathroom..” You say. “I like hearing you moan, it’s...pretty.”
Moving off of the couch, you kneel in front of him and spread his legs so you can squeeze in between them. He doesn't stop you from untying the knot that strings of his linen pants are tied in. He definitely doesn’t stop you from pulling them down either, he lifts his hips to aid you in taking them off. His cock springs free and you look up at him with a smirk.
“You’re such a naughty boy..”
“Baby, please..” He pleads.
He shutters under your touch as you run your hand up his length and back down again. He’s already leaking a little so you bring your tongue to his tip and slowly lick it clean. His head falls against the back of the couch as one of his hands finds solace inside of your hair and he gives it a slight tug. Enveloping your mouth around him, a breathy moan escapes his lips. His other hand searches the couch to grip onto anything as his hips instinctually hitch upwards fucking his dick into your mouth.
“Fucking hell..” He mutters as he squirms beneath you.
As if pulling a lollipop out of your mouth, you slowly drag your mouth up his length and release it from your lips with a pop. Though as much as you wanted him to cum in your mouth, you wanted him to cum inside of you. You wanted to feel him inside of you. The feeling of him stretching you was something you craved, it was something your vibrator couldn’t recreate.
“What..” He gasps. “What are you doing? Fuck.. I need to cum baby.”
“And you will.” You say as you undo the button of your jeans and take them off. “I’ve just missed having you buried so deep inside of me.”
A deep groan emits from his throat and he reaches for you pulling you down onto his lap and kissing you. “Your mouth feels so warm and you’re so gentle but just like you, I missed having you wrapped around me.”
Gently you sink down on him, both of you moaning as the sensation of feeling each other again courses through your bodies. You roll your hips and his breath gets caught in his throat. His hands grip tightly to your hips and his fingers dig deep in your skin. You carefully lift your hips and fall back down on him. You keep up your movements as he thrusts his hips upwards meeting you as you come down.
“I can’t.. Last any… Longer..” He gasps and moans.
“Fill me up, Jake.. I want to feel it.”
You feel his body tense beneath you. He holds tightly to you and pulls you down on top of him, pinning you to his hips. His head falls back as he finally releases his cum inside of you.
“That’s it Jakey.”
He lazily lifts his head, in the midst of his orgasm. “Cum.. With me..” He says. He removes one of his hands from your hips and brings in between you where he starts using his thumb to rub circles into your clit.
“Oh fuck Jake..”
“Be my pretty girl and cum on me.”
Just as quickly as he had, you feel your orgasm wash through you and you soak him. You fall against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. As the two of you come down from your highs, he takes the palm of his hand and rubs soft circles on your back. Lifting your head, you look at him. His eyes are heavy and glazed over with lust.
“You look so pretty when you’re all fucked.” You say making him chuckle.
Slowly you remove yourself from his hips and grab the throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrap it around your lower half.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“To shower.” You shrug. “Want to join?”
“Do I even need to answer?” He says as he pushes himself off the couch.
________________________________________________________
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#greta van fleet fic#jake kiszka#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka fic#greta van fleet fanfic#jake kiszka smut#dirty little secret
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Dirty Little Secret - part 5 (leila ouahabi x reader)
Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.
Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader
Part 5/?
Read other parts here.
———
You’ve hardly spoken to Leila since the news broke that she’ll be playing for Manchester City next season, and not at all since the tournament began. You’re completely focused on your goal of winning the Euros, as Leila probably is too, and you immerse yourself in the bubble of the Lionesses camp while trying to block out outside noise. That includes talking to Leila.
You watch her games though. In between your own matches and the intense training schedule, there’s plenty of downtime and you manage to catch quite a few of the other games on the large screen in the Lionesses’ television room, including the Spanish team’s group games. You act like you’re watching them out of professional curiosity, knowing the likelihood of having to face Spain in the knockout rounds, but you’re as focused on Leila as an individual as you are on the Spanish team as a whole.
Sure enough, after a successful unbeaten group stage, England have to play against Spain in their quarter final match and it might be the hardest game you’ve ever played so far in your career.
It’s not just the physical aspect - one hundred and twenty minutes on a muggy summer evening against a team that has the majority of the possession - but also the mental side. When Spain go ahead, it’s the first goal that England have conceded all tournament, the first time you’ve found yourselves in a losing position, and it takes resilience like you’ve never seen before to pull yourself back not just level, but into the lead.
You almost forget that you’re playing against Leila’s team. She’s on the bench, which you feel conflicted about, having been looking forward to facing her on the pitch again, but at least it removes that possible distraction.
The final whistle blows and thanks to Georgia’s extra time worldie, England are through to the semi-finals.
You walk around the pitch, grinning and hugging your own teammates in celebration, while shaking the hands of the heartbroken Spanish players. Some of them, you know from the Copa de la Reina afterparty, where you were Leila’s guest, and it’s hard to look them in the eye knowing that you’ve just crushed their dreams of progressing further in this tournament.
You walk past Ona Batlle, who you’ve played against many times in the league, and who is being comforted by Rachel. Then Mapi Leon, who you know is one of Leila’s closest friends, lets you pull her in for a brief one-armed hug, but all the time you’re looking for one person.
You spot Leila from across the pitch, still wearing her purple substitute bib, and she must see you too because you end up slowly meandering towards each other as you do the rounds on the pitch.
Leila isn’t quite crying, not like some of her teammates who left everything out on the pitch in one hundred and twenty minutes of gruelling football, but the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak.
You don’t know what to say.
In the end, words aren’t needed. You’re not sure who initiates it, but you end up in each other’s arms. Leila is slightly taller than you and her arms wrap around your shoulders, one hand cradling the back of your head as you lean into her and wrap your own arms around her back. The warmth of her body against yours is comforting and you almost drown out the sound of the jubilant crowd singing Sweet Caroline because suddenly the only thing that matters is Leila.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble into Leila’s shoulder.
“Don’t say sorry,” Leila replies. “You’ll make me cry.”
You want to apologise for that too, but you obey Leila and stay quiet instead, still full of adrenaline from the game and knowing that seeing Leila cry will probably set you off too.
You wish you could freeze this moment, to exist just the two of you in each other’s arms, as you did for those short days in Barcelona a few weeks ago. Leila’s body fits against your own in a way that you’ve never fully appreciated before, but you feel like this is where you belong. She’s just a little bit taller than you, her hand cradling the back of your head, and though it should probably be you comforting her now that you’ve knocked her team out of the tournament, the embrace is as much of a comfort to you.
Though you’d like to remain in Leila’s arms forever, you eventually break apart, but with promises that you’ll talk properly as soon as all the formalities are done and you can get a moment of privacy.
You have to wait until after the huddles, when some of the girls are still doing media duties and you’re back in your tracksuit after a shower, but you get a message from Leila on your phone.
Leila Can I see you? Is there somewhere we can go?
Knowing that your time is limited before both teams have to leave the stadium, you reply straight away.
You Meet me outside the changing rooms?
You pull a hoodie over your head and slip your socked feet into your sliders, then leave the England changing room. Leila emerges from the Spanish dressing room within seconds, and you silently lead her in the opposite direction from the media zone, until you find a deserted hallway deep within the underbelly of the stadium. There, you end up on the floor, side by side with your backs against the wall, thighs pressed together and your fingers intertwined with Leila’s in her lap.
You’re reminded of the only other time you and Leila snuck away after a game - after the second Champions League game at the Emirates. Back then, your actions were fuelled by lust and secrecy. Today, you just want Leila’s company for as long as you’re allowed to have it, and you don’t care about getting caught.
“Are you mad?” you ask Leila, as you trace your thumb over the small tattoo on the back of her hand. “That we knocked you out?”
“Some of the girls are angry,” Leila says with a shrug. “Like Aitana - I think her head might explode. But I’m not mad. Just sad. We wanted to win. We really wanted to win for Alexia.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologise, leaning into Leila’s side and letting your head fall against Leila’s shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” she tells you, her fingers still absently toying with yours.
“It kind of is,” you point out.
“No,” Leila insists, shaking her head firmly. “We have such good players but you need something extra to win a tournament. It feels like there’s always something missing with us. I can’t describe what it is, but I know your team has it.”
You think you know what Leila means. You’ve played in many different teams over the years - youth teams, professional clubs, national sides - and with that you’ve experienced the full range of success levels. The teams you’ve been a part of that have won titles have all had that special something that Leila refers to, a connection between teammates, the two-way trust between the coach and the players, the special spark that allows you all to push through, even when it’s tough.
You think that the Lionesses have probably demonstrated that tonight. You’ve played in so many teams that would have crumbled as soon as they went one goal down against one of the best sides in Europe, yet you came from behind to earn your place in the semi final. That’s the mark of a team that has something special.
Spain, for whatever reason, doesn’t have that, despite the obvious talent in their squad. You wonder if Leila is more mad at that than she is at you for knocking them out of the tournament.
“You’re gonna win this whole competition, you know that, right?” Leila tells you.
If there’s one thing that Sarina has brought to this England team it’s belief, but while you know this team is more than capable of winning the Euros, you’re still not sure whether it will actually happen.
“You think so?” you ask Leila.
She nods and says, “I hate it. My heart says anybody but England. But I also want it for you. You deserve it.”
“I know it’s the whole point of sport, that only one team can win, and don’t get me wrong, I love winning. But sometimes I hate it when my dreams have to come at the expense of my friends’ dreams.”
“Is that what we are?” Leila asks, and when you lift your head from her shoulder to look at her, she’s smirking back at you. “Friends?”
She gives your hand a performative squeeze, as if to emphasise the beyond-friendliness of your relationship.
You open your mouth to say something witty in response, then close it again. Because the thing is, you and Leila haven’t actually defined what you are. Football rivals with benefits is probably the most appropriate term, because to be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you know Leila well enough to call yourselves friends yet.
But with Leila looking at you with curiosity in her eyes, eyebrows half raised as if she’s expecting you to confirm the exact nature of your relationship, you don’t know what to say. You could joke, but that would just be deflecting. You could be honest, and tell her that you don’t know what you want but that you like the way that things have been going. Or you could field the adrenaline still coursing through your body from the match into telling Leila that you’d like to maybe explore making things a little more serious when she moves to England soon.
What if she doesn’t want things to be more serious? What if she’s more than happy with just an occasional hookup? More to the point, are you sure that you want anything more than what’s currently going on between you?
The door at the end of the hallway crashes open before you can even begin to vocalise any of the confusion in your mind, and your head jerks up to see that it’s Mapi who is interrupting you, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you sitting together on the floor in the middle of the corridor.
“Shit, my bad,” Mapi says in English, before she switches to Spanish and addresses Leila.
You let your fingers slip out from between Leila’s as they converse and use your hand to play with your hair instead, running your fingertips through the damp strands, until eventually Leila turns back to you and says, “Sorry, I have to go. We’re leaving soon.”
Leila pushes herself to her feet, then offers out a hand to help you to yours. You keep your hand in hers as you follow Mapi down the hallway, only letting it drop when you pass into a more public area where there might be some media. The last thing you need is for pictures of the two of you holding hands to appear on social media before you even get the chance to figure out how to label what Leila is to you.
There are a few more people around, and one of those is your captain Leah, whose frowning face relaxes when she sees you.
“Oh, there you are,” Leah says to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Nobody knew where you were. The bus is leaving soon.”
Leah’s eyes flick curiously between you and the two Spanish players, but if she suspects anything, she doesn’t comment on it.
Mapi leaves you, entering the Spanish dressing room, but Leila stays and you know it’s time to say goodbye. At least this time, with Leila’s move to Manchester imminent, you hope there will be chances to see her again sooner than usual once your own tournament is over.
You migrate towards each other and wrap your arms around Leila as she pulls you against her chest, burying your face against her shoulder. She smells divine, and you try to commit it to memory as you inhale.
“Good luck,” Leila murmurs into your hair, her voice soft enough that only you can hear her. “I’ll be cheering for you.”
“For me or for England?” you can’t help but tease her.
“You,” Leila says, speaking at a normal level again as she pulls out of the embrace. “Fuck England.”
There’s an amused glint in her eyes as she says this, but it quickly vanishes when she realises she’s still standing within earshot of the England captain, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning as Leila raises an apologetic hand in Leah’s direction.
“Sorry,” she says.
“No need to apologise,” Leah replies diplomatically. “In your position, I’d probably feel that way about us too.”
You think about going in for a goodbye kiss with Leila, but Leah’s presence causes you to hesitate, and before you can make a decision Leila has already said her final goodbye and followed Mapi into the Spanish changing room.
“You alright?” Leah asks, now that it’s just the two of you.
You and Leah know each other incredibly well, playing alongside each other for over a decade, first in the same England youth age groups, then at club level with Arsenal. And while you can tell Leah is curious about the interaction she saw between you and Leila, and that her question isn’t so much asking about your well-being as it is inviting you to open up to her, you also know that she’s not going to push you to tell her anything that you’re not ready to share.
“All good,” you respond.
Leah drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her side as you re-enter the now almost empty England changing room.
“You bossed it tonight,” she tells you. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“You too, captain.”
She smiles at you - the whole England captain thing still hasn’t fully sunk in yet, for either of you, and while you can’t quite believe that the skinny girl with the white blonde hair and the gangly legs who you first met over ten years ago is now leading her country to a European Championship semi final, you know that this is something Leah has always been destined for.
You don’t want to get ahead of yourself but you’re still on such a high from the game that you dare to wonder if Leah is the person who will finally lead England to a major trophy.
“Two games left,” Leah tells you, and you know that she’s reminding herself as much as you. “Two games left to change our lives.”
———
“You’ve got a new girlfriend, I see,” Georgia grins at you as you sit down for breakfast the morning after the Spain game.
“What?” you ask, nearly choking on your granola.
“That’s what Twitter thinks, anyway.”
“Show me.”
Georgia flips her phone around and shows you a tweet that reads “new woso couple alert?” accompanied by a couple of pictures of you and Leila embracing on the pitch after the game. You can feel your cheeks start to heat up and you hope they don’t visibly redden, especially as you feel Leah’s eyes on you, the only person around the table who might be able to guess how close to the truth this fan ‘rumour’ actually is.
“Oh, because I consoled a player after a game now I’m dating her?”
You scroll through some of the comments. There’s nothing too outrageous there - some about the length of the hug, some speculating how or even if you and Leila actually know each other, mixed in with a couple of theories that it’s purely professional and that Manchester City will soon be announcing your return to the club where you spent your formative years thanks to “agent Leila”. It’s not new either. You’re no stranger to being shipped with other footballers, it sort of comes with the territory of being semi-famous in a fanbase of mostly queer women, but never has a rumour about your dating life been so close to the truth.
Suddenly, you’re wondering if you were wrong to hug Leila in public after the game. At the time you followed your instinct, wanting to comfort somebody who means a lot to you. But if you’d waited until you were alone to do that, you wouldn’t have strangers on the internet speculating about the nature of a relationship that you can’t even define yourself yet. Leila was hurting, but was being there for her in that moment really worth potentially outing this to everybody before it even has a label?
Stewing over a decision that you made in the heat of the moment and didn’t think twice about, you return Georgia’s phone.
“It’s just the fans though,” Georgia says with a shrug. “They come up with all sorts of crazy theories sometimes.”
“Yeah, there’s some fans that think I’m dating Ella,” Alessia interjects with a laugh.
“Wait, are you not?” Leah asks, managing to keep her expression deadpan for a few seconds, before it cracks open into a grin.
“Alessia wishes she was dating me,” Ella says.
“I do actually,” Alessia replies, reaching out for one of Ella’s hands as she adds, “El, I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you how I really feel…”
“Shut up!” Ella snatches her hand away and rolls her eyes as the rest of the group descends into a fit of laughter.
With the group’s attention now elsewhere, any opportunity you might have had to finally admit to your friends what’s going on between you and Leila has passed.
There’ll be other times. When the tournament is over, maybe then you’ll tell them. But with a semi final coming up and the possibility of a final too, you can’t deal with any distractions, whether those come from outside opinions on social media or your friends teasing you about the developments in your personal life.
You feel Leah’s eyes on you and you suspect she knows the truth, but you’re grateful for her silence.
———
England makes it past Sweden with relative ease and you can hardly believe that you’ve made it this far. The final at Wembley is all that stands between you and your wildest dream, but it also means you have to face up to the dilemma that’s been on your mind since you knocked Spain out in the quarter finals.
Should you invite Leila to watch the final as your guest?
You haven’t actually talked to Leila since the quarter final. You know that she’s probably been busy getting ready to move to England, meanwhile you’ve been caught in the bubble of the Lionesses camp.
But once the excitement of winning the semi final has passed and you’re back to focusing on training for the final, you realise that you want Leila there to support you. Just as you went to see her play in the Champions League and Copa de la Reina finals, you want her in the crowd as you compete for the European Championship trophy.
But you don’t know if she wants to come, especially after it was your team who knocked hers out of the same competition.
Plus, though Twitter moved on from the hypothetical of you and Leila after a matter of hours when something else became more interesting, you’re sure that a sighting of Leila in the crowd at Wembley, in the England friends and family section no less, will be sure to bring those rumours right back to the attention of the fans.
After a day of deliberating, you eventually decide that it’s a risk you’re happy to take, if it means Leila might be in the crowd to watch you play the most important game of your entire career.
You text her on your way to lunch after a conditioning session in the gym two days before the big final.
You Do you want to come to the final? I can get you a ticket…
And then, you add a second message as an afterthought.
You Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear an England shirt 😉
Leila doesn’t reply immediately
Leila Sorry I move to Manchester this week 😔 but good luck!
You’re disappointed, but you knew this was a likely outcome. Besides, it’s probably for the best. If Leila had accepted the offer, not only would you have had to explain everything to your teammates, but you’d probably have ended up introducing Leila to your entire family too, which sounds like way too much for somebody who isn’t even officially your girlfriend.
You No problem! Good luck with the move!
———
Leila was right - this England team does have something special.
It hits you, strangely enough, not when the final whistle blows nor when Leah lifts the trophy and a shower of confetti rains down over you, but when you crash Sarina’s post-final press conference with the rest of the team. It’s so ridiculous, your socked feet slipping against the floor, Mary shimmying her hips as she dances on the tables, two dozen journalists watching on in amused disbelief, but there’s no group of people you’d rather have done the last month and a half with. And the medal around your neck, hanging heavy with the sheer importance of what you’ve just achieved, is a permanent reminder of the best summer of your life.
You return to the dressing room, where an England-branded bucket hat somehow finds its way onto your head, and sit down in your cubby to check your phone. Messages have been flying in since full time - friends, family, even distant acquaintances you haven’t seen in over a decade, all wanting to congratulate you on the win. But there’s only one person you’ve been waiting to hear from, and you feel giddy when you see her name in the list of notifications.
Leila Congrats campeonaaaa! I told you that you were gonna win 😋
She’s accompanied the message with a picture, a selfie in which she’s wearing the England shirt emblazoned with your number that you traded for hers during the Arnold Clark Cup.
You take a selfie to send back, keeping the ridiculous hat on your head and lifting up your medal to catch it between your teeth. You grin as you snap the photo and send it to Leila.
Almost as soon as you send it, your phone starts ringing with an incoming FaceTime. You’ve ignored a few calls since you won, overwhelmed by the number of people trying to congratulate you already, but when you see Leila’s name, you accept immediately.
“Hey,” you say, when Leila’s face appears on the screen of your phone.
“Nice hat,” she greets you, stifling a laugh.
You raise your eyebrows, then say, “Sexy, huh?”
Leila gives you an incredulous look, before she says, “Show me your medal then.”
The dressing room is already noisy, but somebody turns the speaker up and it’s almost impossible to hear Leila, so you make your way out of the central changing area and towards the showers, where it’s slightly quieter, before lifting the medal so that it’s in the frame of your front-facing camera.
“Does it suit me?” you ask, shooting her a teasing smile.
“I like it,” Leila tells you. “Winning is very sexy.”
You open your mouth to flirt back, but you’re interrupted by a shout from a few metres away. When you glance up, Leah has emerged from round the corner, a half empty bottle of champagne clutched in one of her hands.
“Oi!” she cries out. “Come and dance with us.”
“Two minutes,” you say to Leah.
Leah’s eyes flit between your face and the phone in your hand, and realisation washes over her face, perhaps remembering the interactions she saw between you and Leila after you played against each other last week.
“Oh!” she says, eyes wide. “Take your time!”
“I’ll be there in a second,” you promise Leah, before turning back to your phone.
“Go and celebrate,” Leila urges you.
“I wish I was celebrating with you,” you admit.
“Sorry,” Leila says with a grimace.
“No!” you interject. “I’m not blaming you for not being here! How did the move go?”
“It was good,” Leila shrugs. “The apartment is nice but I need to go to IKEA to get some furniture.”
“Maybe I can come and visit when you’ve settled in?” you suggest optimistically.
“Okay, but you lose the hat,” Leila tells you, and it’s more of an order than a suggestion.
A thought pops into your brain, probably fuelled the bottle of beer you just downed on top of a shit ton of adrenaline from the match, and you cheekily ask, “What if I’m wearing just the hat?”
“No,” Leila warns you firmly, though she rolls her eyes playfully.
“Fine,” you concede.
“Go,” Leila tells you. “I don’t want to stop you celebrating.”
“Okay,” you say, trying to draw out the goodbye as long as you can. “But I’ll see you soon, right?”
“See you soon, champion.”
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