#i just. i don’t know if I have the nerve
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nosyp · 3 days ago
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Twst Third Years reacting to someone else calling you 'honey' or 'sweetheart'
First Years | Second years
A/N = Likes, reblogs and comments r apprecaieted btw!
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Trey Clover
He raises an eyebrow. Like what did he just say?
“Honey? Sweetheart? That's a little forward, don’t you think?”
Gives the person a polite but firm smile, subtly stepping closer to you.
HE WILL try to keep things calm but is lowkey plotting how to make sure that never happens again. Like you should probably... do something about him.
BUT in private, he’ll ask you if you’re okay with it, but also makes sure to remind you he’s got your back.
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Cater Diamond
He laughs at first, but the playful glint in his eyes slowly shift into something more possessive.
“Oh? So you think you’re that close to (Y/N)?”
Gives the person a teasing grin before pulling you closer to him.
“You know, I think I’m the only one who gets to call them that. So how about we leave the nicknames to me, yeah?”
When alone with you, he’s definitely more affectionate but might joke about it a bit more.
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Leona Kingscholar
Glares at the person, his face darkening in the process.
“The hell did you just call them?” he scowls.
He doesn’t hold back. His tone DRIPPING with irritation.
“You’ve got some nerve. Back off, they’re mine.”
Will pull you closer to him, practically growling if the person doesn’t get the hint.
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Vil Schoenheit
Freezes for a moment, then smiles, but it’s far from a kind smile. It's more of... getoutofmyfacebeforeismackyouintotomorrow typa smile.
“How cute, you think you’re that familiar with them.”
Casually places a hand on your shoulder, making sure the other person notices how close you two are.
His voice is laced with poison: “I think you should stick to more formal terms. After all, you’re not exactly their type.” ouch that kinda hurts.
Vil keeps it classy but is definitely claiming you in his own way. He's probably not gonna let you out of his sight after this.
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Rook Hunt
He simply... smirks. He's entertained. He's slightly enjoying this... but of course with a possessive glint in his eyes.
“Oh? Honey, you say? You’re a bit too forward for my liking.”
Leans in close to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“(Y/N) belongs to me, in a way that no one else can even dream of.”
He loves the tension it creates, and you can expect him to be a lot more possessive afterward.
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Idia Shroud
His face turns red, and he freezes up.
'W-Wait, honey? Who the hell do they think they are?' his mind races.
You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he starts muttering to himself, fidgeting nervously. He's like a kettle about to BURST.
'I-I don’t like it when other people call them that! I get to call them cute names, okay?' he thinks to himself.
He doesn’t show it on the outside, but internally, he’s definitely marking his territory.
He tries to listen in on the conversation to know more about him for... reasons. AND goodluck to his online reputation cuz it's gonna be non-existent or absolutely ruined in a matter of seconds.
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Malleus Draconia
Stares at the person, unblinking.
“Did you just refer to them as honey?”
His voice is calm, but his eyes have a dangerous glint.
Steps closer to you, his presence overwhelming.
“No one else has the right to address them that way. They belong to me.”
Will silently observe, but you’ll feel his possessive nature once the clouds start getting dark and raindrops fall from the sky. Then the air around you seems to shift, heavy with his unspoken claim.
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Lilia Vanrouge
He chuckles, but his tone is laced with amusement and something more.
“Oh? Sweetheart, you say? How bold of you, but I think you’ve got it wrong.”
Laughs to himself and then ruffles your hair affectionately.
“(Y/N) is mine, so maybe you should pick a more appropriate nickname.”
While playful on the surface, you can feel the possessive edge in his words.
A/N = I love third years the most tbh
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s4kura-tr3 · 2 days ago
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Could you make a crybaby reader with JJK men? Like just an overly sensitive/nice reader? It’s okay if not! Have a good day!
Sensitive!
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji
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Gojo Satoru
Gojo Satoru never meant to upset you—he rarely ever did. But today, his usual playful teasing hit you harder than usual.
You were sitting on the couch together, scrolling through your phone while he flipped lazily through the channels on the TV. Out of nowhere, Gojo chuckled and said, “You know, you’re so dramatic sometimes. It’s kinda cute, but it’s like everything’s the end of the world for you.”
You froze, his words hitting a nerve. Dramatic. That’s how people had dismissed your feelings for years. You tried to brush it off, but your chest tightened, and your vision blurred slightly as you blinked back tears.
Gojo didn’t notice at first, still flipping channels and humming to himself. But when you didn’t respond with your usual witty comeback, he glanced over and saw your downturned face.
“Wait,” he said, sitting up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”
You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check.
“Hey,” he said more gently now, setting the remote down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Finally, you looked at him, your voice quiet. “You called me dramatic. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? It’s like every time I feel something, people just… dismiss me.”
Gojo’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, scooting closer to you on the couch. “I wasn’t trying to dismiss you. I swear, I just—ugh, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”
You didn’t reply, still feeling the sting of his words.
Gojo reached for your hands, holding them in his warm, large ones. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not dramatic. You just feel things deeply, and I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually. You care so much, and that’s rare. Honestly, I wish I was more like you sometimes.”
You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t a good thing. It is. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky you put up with my dumb jokes.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, despite your lingering hurt. “You really think that?”
Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy returning as he kissed your knuckles. “I think you’re perfect. And I’m perfectly terrible at saying things the right way. Forgive me?”
You sighed, the weight in your chest easing. “Okay. But maybe think before you speak next time?”
“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight as a peace offering. But only if it’s not boring.”
You laughed softly, and just like that, Gojo had you smiling again, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.
Geto Suguru
It was late in the evening, and you and Geto Suguru were sitting together in a cozy café. He had insisted on taking you out to unwind after a long week, and for a while, the warm atmosphere and his gentle company had done just that. But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.
You were talking about a project you’d been working on—how much effort you’d put into it and how nervous you were about how it would turn out. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Geto chuckled softly and said, “You really overthink things sometimes, don’t you?”
His tone was light, and you knew he didn’t mean it maliciously, but the comment stopped you in your tracks. Your heart sank, and your chest tightened as those familiar insecurities reared their heads. You looked down at your tea, your appetite for conversation disappearing.
Geto immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning closer.
You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s clearly not nothing,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Did I say something wrong?”
You hesitated, but his steady gaze encouraged you to speak. “It’s just… when you said I overthink things. I know I do, okay? I hear it all the time, and I hate that about myself. It feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough, and people just see me as… too much.”
Geto’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of regret crossing his face. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.
You looked away, but he gently reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone warm and steady. “I wasn’t trying to say that in a bad way. I know you overthink because you care. You care so much about everything, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength.”
You blinked at him, his words catching you off guard.
“You put your whole heart into what you do, and yeah, sometimes it makes you nervous or unsure, but that’s only because you want things to be perfect,” he continued. “And honestly? That’s one of the things I admire most about you. I could never think of that as a bad thing.”
The tightness in your chest began to ease as his words sank in. “You really mean that?” you asked softly.
Geto smiled gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Of course I do. And I’m sorry if what I said made you feel like I didn’t. I’ll be more careful with my words next time.”
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”
He chuckled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to remind you how amazing you are when you forget.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and the tension that had settled between you melted away.
“Now,” he said, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his chair, “how about I make it up to you with dessert? I hear they’ve got a mean matcha cheesecake here.”
You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Fine, but you’re paying.”
“Always,” he said with a playful smirk, raising his hand to call for the waiter.
Nanami Kento
Nanami Kento had had an exhausting day. Every step he took up the stairs to your shared apartment felt heavier than the last, and all he wanted was to come home, see you, and let the warmth of your presence melt away the stress.
When he opened the door, you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. “Kento! You’re home!” you exclaimed, your excitement practically radiating off you.
He managed a small smile and placed a hand on your back, but the weight of his day still hung over him. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice tired.
You didn’t seem to notice his exhaustion as you began talking a mile a minute. “I missed you! You won’t believe the day I had—oh, and guess what? I tried that recipe you love, and I think it turned out amazing! Oh, and Louis did the funniest thing today—”
“Can you give me a second?” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.
The room fell silent, and the warmth in your expression dimmed instantly. You stepped back, your arms falling to your sides. “Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry.”
Nanami immediately felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You weren’t upset because he was tired—you were upset because he’d made you feel like your excitement didn’t matter to him.
You turned away, mumbling something about letting him settle in, but he quickly reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer now.
You hesitated, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault I had a hard day. I… I was looking forward to seeing you all day, and then I let my frustration get in the way.”
You blinked, your lips trembling slightly. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you admitted quietly.
“And you do,” he said immediately, stepping closer to you. “You’re the best part of my day. Always.”
Your eyes met his then, searching his face for the truth in his words. His expression was soft, full of remorse and affection.
“I don’t deserve to have you greet me with so much love after the way I acted,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “But I promise I’ll do better. You’re everything to me, and I should have treated you like it.”
You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I just got too excited,” you murmured.
“And I love that about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your excitement, your energy—it’s what makes this place feel like home. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve.”
For a moment, you stood there in his embrace, his warmth and steady heartbeat easing the lingering hurt.
“Do you want to sit down and tell me about your day?” he asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I want to hear everything.”
You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. But only if you let me heat up dinner for you first.”
He chuckled softly. “Deal. But don’t rush—just being here with you is enough.”
And as you led him to the table, the weight of his day began to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing he was home—with you.
Toji fushiguro
Toji Fushiguro wasn’t the type to watch his words. His bluntness was just part of who he was—sharp, quick, and sometimes careless. Most of the time, you brushed it off, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt you. But tonight, it cut deeper than usual.
The two of you were in the kitchen after dinner. You were putting away dishes, humming softly, while Toji leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you.
“I’ve been thinking about trying something new,” you said, your tone excited. “Like a cooking class or maybe painting—something creative. I think it could be fun.”
Toji grunted in response, not looking up from the dish he was drying.
You hesitated but kept going, trying to draw him into the conversation. “What do you think? Would you want to try something like that with me?”
Toji sighed and set the dish down a little too hard, the sound making you flinch. “You don’t stick with stuff like that, do you?” he said, his voice flat. “You get all excited and then drop it a week later. What’s the point?”
You froze, his words hitting harder than you expected. You knew he had a point—sometimes you did lose interest in things quickly. But hearing him say it so bluntly, so dismissively, made your chest tighten.
“I…” Your voice wavered as you set the plate in your hands on the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together.”
Toji finally looked up, his brows furrowing when he saw the way your shoulders slumped. “Hey, don’t get all upset about it,” he said, his tone softening, but it didn’t help.
“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. “I just… never mind.”
You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were already welling up, but Toji wasn’t one to let things go.
“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but when you tried to brush past him, he caught your wrist gently.
“Look at me,” he said firmly, his tone still low but insistent. You hesitated, and when you finally met his gaze, he could see the hurt in your eyes.
“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You didn’t have to say it at all,” you whispered. “You make me feel like I’m… not good at anything.”
Toji’s jaw tightened, guilt flashing across his face. He wasn’t good at this—at saying the right things or fixing mistakes—but he hated seeing you like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.
“You’re good at plenty of things,” he said, his tone softer now. “And… I’m an idiot for saying that to you. I wasn’t trying to put you down. I just… I don’t know how to say things without sounding like a jerk sometimes.”
You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.
“I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cooking class or whatever. And I’d do it with you if that’s what you want.”
“You don’t have to just say that,” you murmured.
“I’m not just saying it,” he said, stepping closer until he could wrap his arms around you. “You’re trying to do something fun, and instead of supporting you, I ran my mouth like an idiot. I’m sorry.”
His arms around you were warm and steady, and you could feel the sincerity in the way he held you.
“You’d really go with me?” you asked, your voice still small.
“Yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Even if I suck at it, I’d go. For you.”
Your lips quirked up into a small smile, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “Okay,” you said softly, leaning into his chest.
Toji smirked, holding you a little tighter. “Good. But don’t expect me to wear an apron or anything. That’s where I draw the line.”
You laughed, the sound lightening the room, and he sighed in relief, grateful to see your smile again.
Sukuna Ryomen
The Heian era was a time of beauty and chaos, and life with Sukuna Ryomen was no exception. Known as the King of Curses, Sukuna was feared across the land, but to you, he was something else entirely. His presence, though intimidating, had always been a source of strange comfort. However, his sharp tongue often betrayed him, and tonight was one of those nights.
You had spent the entire day crafting something special—a delicate embroidered cloth featuring patterns of crimson and gold, colors you knew he favored. Each stitch was precise, your fingers aching by the time you finished, but the thought of presenting it to Sukuna filled you with anticipation.
When you brought the finished piece to him that evening, you entered his chambers with cautious excitement, kneeling before him as he sat on his throne-like dais. “My lord,” you began softly, holding out the cloth, “I made this for you. I thought you might like it.”
Sukuna’s four crimson eyes flicked to the offering, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his tone as sharp as ever.
“You spent all day on this?” he said, his voice laced with disdain. “What use do I have for something so… trivial?”
The words hit you harder than you anticipated. You had poured your heart into the gift, hoping to please him, and now your efforts felt meaningless. You lowered your hands, clutching the cloth tightly as your vision blurred with tears you desperately tried to hold back.
“I… I just wanted to give you something,” you murmured, your voice trembling.
Sukuna’s brows furrowed at the shift in your tone. He could sense your emotions as clearly as the tension in the air, and the sight of you so visibly upset stirred something in him—something he wasn’t used to feeling.
“Tch,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Why are you crying? I didn’t tell you to do something like this.”
You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I know. I just… I thought it would make you happy.”
Sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good at this—at softening his edges. But seeing you like this unsettled him in a way that battles and curses never could
“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but quieter now.
Reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. His gaze wasn’t as harsh as before, and for a moment, the room felt less heavy.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’m not good with… things like this.” He gestured vaguely at the cloth in your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”
Your breath hitched slightly. “You… you do?”
“Yes,” he said, almost impatiently, but his tone lacked its usual edge. “I’m just not someone who knows how to handle… thoughtful gestures. But that doesn’t mean they’re wasted on me.”
You blinked, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “I just wanted to give you something that reminded you of… us. Of me.”
Sukuna’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “And you think I could forget you?”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and he chuckled lowly, clearly pleased with your reaction. He reached out, taking the cloth from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly.
“It’s well-made,” he admitted, running his thumb over the intricate stitching. “Better than I expected.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, and Sukuna leaned back, his gaze softening just slightly. “Next time, don’t exhaust yourself for my sake,” he said. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
“I just wanted to make you happy,” you said softly, your earlier sadness melting away.
“You do,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Even without this.”
The warmth in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and as he set the cloth aside carefully, you knew that, in his own way, Sukuna was trying.
Megumi Fushiguro
Megumi Fushiguro was in a foul mood. Gojo had been pestering him all day—constant teasing, unnecessary tasks, and endless comments that pushed his patience to the brink. By the time he walked through the door, his mind was racing, and he felt like he was ready to snap at anything that moved.
You had been waiting for him to come home, your excitement bubbling as you thought about sharing the small surprise you’d planned for him: his favorite snacks arranged neatly on the coffee table and a cozy spot on the couch waiting for him to relax.
When he walked in, you greeted him with a bright smile. “Megumi! Welcome home! I set up—”
“Can you just give me a second?” he snapped, not even looking up as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag with more force than necessary.
You froze, startled by the sharpness of his tone. “Oh… I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said softly, your voice already trembling slightly.
Megumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about you, okay? I just need some space.”
Your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t even glance at the effort you’d put into making his evening better. The snacks, the cozy setup—it all felt meaningless now. “I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away, your shoulders slumping.
The sound of your soft, hurt tone stopped Megumi in his tracks. He looked up and finally noticed the care you’d put into the room—the snacks, the cozy setting, and the clear effort to make him feel better. Guilt hit him like a wave.
“Wait,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer to you. “I… I’m sorry.”
You didn’t turn to face him, your hands nervously fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed your true feelings.
“It’s not fine,” Megumi said, his tone firm but remorseful. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening. “I was just trying to make you feel better,” you murmured, “but if you don’t want me here, I can—”
“No,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”
He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s been a rough day, and I let my frustration get the better of me. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were trying to do something nice for me, and I acted like an idiot.”
You stared at him for a moment, his rare vulnerability catching you off guard. “You mean that?”
“I do,” he said, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “I see what you did here. It’s thoughtful, and it means a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
Your lips trembled as a small smile broke through. “I just wanted you to relax after your day.”
“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Let me make it up to you.”
You hesitated before nodding, letting him guide you to the couch. As the two of you sat together, Megumi reached for one of the snacks you’d prepared, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.
“Thank you,” he said softly, glancing at you.
“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.
“For being patient with me,” he said. “And for always knowing how to make things better—even when I don’t deserve it.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned against him, letting the tension of the evening fade away. Megumi might not always get it right, but moments like this reminded you why you loved him so much.
Yuji Itadori
Yuji Itadori wasn’t the type to snap at people—he was always upbeat, kind, and quick to laugh things off. But after a long day of missions, training, and dealing with the stress of being Sukuna’s vessel, he’d finally managed to steal a rare moment of relaxation, engrossed in a video game he’d been trying to beat for weeks.
You, excited to share some news with him, entered the room without realizing how deeply focused he was. “Yuji! Guess what happened today?” you said cheerfully, walking over to him.
“Not now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the controller.
You hesitated, unsure if he’d heard you properly. “It’ll only take a second! You won’t believe—”
“I said not now!” he snapped, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard before.
The sudden harshness of his voice made you stop in your tracks. Your excitement vanished, replaced with a sinking feeling in your chest. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before mumbling, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you.”
Your voice was so soft, Yuji almost didn’t catch it. But when he heard the hurt in your tone and turned to see the way your expression had fallen, his stomach twisted with guilt.
“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” he started, but you were already backing away. “I’ll just… leave you alone,” you said quietly, heading toward the door.
Yuji quickly paused the game and jumped to his feet. “Wait! Don’t go!”
You stopped but didn’t turn around, your arms crossed tightly as if trying to protect yourself from the sting of his words.
Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, his face filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was really uncool of me.”
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t think it would make you so mad…”
“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I was just so caught up in the game, and I got frustrated. But that’s not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”
You bit your lip, unsure if you should say anything, and Yuji reached out, gently touching your arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really, really sorry. You’re way more important to me than some stupid game.”
His words made your heart ache in the best way, and you finally turned to face him fully. “You mean that?”
“Of course I do,” he said, giving you that familiar, boyish grin that made it hard to stay upset. “Tell me what happened today. I want to hear everything.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to interrupt…” you trailed off.
Yuji shook his head quickly. “Forget the game. I want to spend time with you.”
The sincerity in his voice melted away the last of your hurt, and you let yourself smile again. As you started sharing your story, Yuji sat beside you, listening intently, determined to make up for his mistake.
And when you laughed at one of his playful comments, Yuji silently promised himself to never let a moment like that happen again. You were his safe place, his reason to smile, and no game—or anything else—could ever compare.
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sturniolohouse · 2 days ago
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Camera Shy - M.S.
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reader and matt go to a 3D ultrasound appointment to get a glimpse of their future daughter, who is seemingly camera shy.
“This is freaking me out,” Matt mutters, his face pale as he stares at the 3D image on the screen. His fingers drum nervously on his thigh that is bouncing up and down. 
"I know. It’s a little alien-like, huh," I say, watching the screen like a hawk, but all I can see are what look like limbs in the swirly mix of brown and tan on the screen. 
“Is that an arm or a leg?” He gawks at the screen, his blue eyes wide with a mix of awe and unease.
“That was an arm, although she does have very long legs,” the tech speaks up, her tone amused but light as she presses more buttons on the panel. 
I chortle, shaking my head. “Explains why she kicks me in the ribs constantly.”
“I’m just going to apply a little more pressure here to get a better angle of baby’s face. She’s sort of nestled into your side here,” the tech says, shifting the wand and pressing it deeper into my skin. 
“She really doesn’t want to cooperate today, does she?” I say, half-joking, though a part of me feels a pang of disappointment.
“Stubborn already,” Matt remarks, glancing at me with a small smirk. “Definitely takes after you.”
“Excuse me?” I shoot him a playful glare. “If anyone’s stubborn, it’s you. You do the same thing when I try to wake you up, grump,” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, playing dumb, the corner of his mouth twitching.
The tech chuckles, clearly amused by our banter, “Why don’t you try moving her a bit? Press your hand onto this side and gently nudge her. See if that does the trick,” 
I place my hand where she instructed, pressing in a few times, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen. I watch for any sign of movement, but she stays put, stubbornly nestled against my side. I sigh deeply, but do it again, a bit harder this time when the tech encourages me that I can't hurt her. I feel her stir before I see it on the screen.
“Oh, oh, alright. Are you gonna show us your face, little one?” I ask softly and Matt moves in closer to get a better look. 
For a brief second she shifts position, giving us a teasing glimpse of her tiny profile. But just as quickly as she moved, her little hands shoot up to cover her face again, curling tightly into fists.
Matt groans playfully, throwing his hands in the air. “It’s like she knows,” 
“Oh wow, she’s definitely got a personality. Got her hands balled up in front of her face and everything.” She chuckles softly, and I sigh, glancing at Matt.
“Well, now we can say she definitely gets that from you,” I tease, tilting my head toward him. “Guess she won’t be a morning person either.”
Matt shoots me a side-eyed glare, his cheeks already tinged pink from the nerves that always seem to take over during these appointments. 
“I’m kidding,” I go to poke his cheek but he grabs my hand, gently pushing it away from his face and instead encases it in his warm hand. 
“Do you want to turn on your side, hun? Might make her change positions,” The tech offers another solution and I wave a hand at her and shrug. 
“That’s okay, she clearly doesn’t want to be bothered. We’ll try again next week.” I sigh, trying not to think about how she might be too big by then to get a good imaging. I'll be 32 weeks.
“I…might have an idea,” Matt speaks up hesitantly and I turn to him with a raised eyebrow. 
“What’s your idea?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him though the corner of my mouth quirks up.
“Alright, don’t yell at me. It’s all I can think of,” he begins, grabbing his phone from his pocket. 
“If you do something stupid–”
“I’m not!” he insists, but his giggles give him away.
I watch him with a mix of skepticism and amusement. “You’re totally about to do something stupid.”
Matt grins mischievously, typing away at his phone, “Trust me,” he says, giggling as he pulls up a music app. “This is guaranteed to work.”
Before I can protest further, the room fills with the unmistakable bass drop of Sicko Mode. The tech freezes for a second, glancing between the two of us–clearly entertained, while I stare at Matt in disbelief.
“You’re kidding,” I say in absolute shock. “You’re seriously playing Travis Scott for her right now?”
“You’ve told me she does somersaults when music is on, Sicko Mode is the only way,” He reasons with nervous laughter.
I turn to the tech and ask her if I’m having a stroke, to which she shakes her head as she watches this scene unfold, trying her best to stifle her laughter.
“Will you at least turn it down,” I snap but can’t help but laugh as he shushes me and brings the speaker closer to my stomach.
And I’ll be damned... She moves. The screen flickers as her tiny fists shift, moving to rest beneath her dimpled chin, her face perfectly in frame.
“You’re actually kidding me—”
“I told you!” Matt exclaims, practically bouncing in his chair, his grin so wide it’s infectious.
I press my hand over my mouth, a mix of laughter and disbelief bubbling up. “I can’t believe she actually moved for Sicko Mode.”
Her tiny features are clear now, her face peaceful and perfect. My heart tightens.
The tech is laughing now, shaking her head as she looks at the screen. “I have to say, this is a first for me. But hey, whatever works,” She says as she starts snapping pictures.
We all tune out the music for a moment and watch the screen, finally soaking in the face we've been dying to see for months. I feel a lump rise in my throat and I almost tear up as I take in the faint resemblance of Matt in her little features–the curve of her nose, the shape of her lips–but my thoughts are interrupted.
“She looks exactly like you, kid.” Matt says suddenly, his voice soft and full of awe.
I blink, turning to him. “What?”
“Look at her,” he insists, pointing at the screen. “That round little face, that's your nose…look, at that little pout. C’mon that’s you,” He's smiling ear to ear.
I laugh quietly, brushing at my eyes. “I don’t know about that. I see you in her. You make that same face,” I sniffle.
Matt squeezes my hand, his grin and his eyes softening into something more tender. “Nah. She’s all you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes stay locked on the screen.
I turn back to the image on the monitor, my throat tight as I take in every detail of our perfect girl.
“Maybe she’s a little bit of both of us,” I whisper.
I glance back at Matt, who’s still playing Travis Scott aloud, “Unbelievable,” I mutter, shaking my head, though I can’t stop smiling. “Can't believe the only way she came out of hiding was because of Sicko Mode. You must be so proud.”
“Are you kidding me? Proudest moment of my life,” he replies, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
I snort, shaking my head, pressing my lips together and trying to keep a straight face. “You’re so annoying,” I say, though my laughter gives me away.
“And yet,” Matt starts, leaning closer to me, his voice dropping into that familiar teasing tone, “you love me for it.”
I roll my eyes, “Yeah, yeah,”
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pboogerswbb · 1 day ago
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SO IT GOES - chapter 1
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Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, drinking Wordcount: 5.4K A/C: another pregame treat!! need my girls to deliver tonight!! anyways, here is chapter one, this one is about to start a little slower and i'm sorry about that but i promise it'll pick up and get more interesting, i got big plans for this one y'all!! anyway please leave feedback/thoughts/reviews whatever for me, i love them :)
-
Before London
The Dallas roads are busy, stretching out for miles out into the horizon as I stare out the window. My lungs craved fresh air, itching to open it. But I knew the air outside would bring no such relief, the humidity of this time of year already bringing me one step closer to packing my bags and making my way back to Connecticut. Everyone told me to turn the AC on, but I was much too stubborn and stuck in my ways. My dad would have come over himself and turn it off if he knew I was considering turning it on in April - much too early for his liking.
I had been here for a week now, seven long days. Each one making me more homesick. I missed my girls. I missed my team. I missed the normal weather and the East Coast. It was so bad I was on the phone with my dad every night, complaining. I knew as much as he loved me, he was getting sick of it.
“Paige, let’s figure this out,” Britt’s voice comes through the speaker phone, five garment bags sent by her laid out on the bed, ready to be opened.
“What do you even wear to this sorta thing?” I ask, speaking into the phone. My hands are opening one bag after another.
“Baby I dunno, you just gotta pick something. What kinda vibe do you wanna give off?” Brittany asks sweetly as I place my phone on the bed in front of me, pulling my shirt off over my head.
“I can’t think, it’s too hot,” I complain, rubbing my face. “I hate it here, wanna come back.”
“Paige, you gotta push through this. Try and look at it differently, at least you like your teammates!” 
I whine and lie down, my back hitting the soft cotton of the sheets. “Do you think they’d let me take my sixth year?”
“Oh my gosh girl you gotta pull yourself together,” Brittany laughs, which in turn makes me laugh too. I knew I was being dramatic, my team was great, the coaching staff seemed amazing. But it was my first time living alone, I didn’t know what to do with myself and all this energy I had. I felt like I was two days away from jumping off the walls.
Lou and Arike had both taken me under their wing, and the few joint practices we’d had with the team the past week seemed promising. Not good, but like there might be potential for something with hard work. I was well taken care of and grateful for it, but the thing is at Uconn I was spoiled. I got to live with my best friends. To spend every moment with them, get on their nerves and not worry because in the end they were my sisters.
“Where are you going?” Britt asks.
“Some sorta steakhouse,” I answer, rubbing my eyes.
“Boujee or like… Texas?”
I snort, grabbing the phone from beside me.
“It’s a nice place I heard. But Rike been here for so long she mighta forgot what nice is,” I joke sitting back up.
“Then go with the blue bag.”
Unzipping it, I find a pair of black shorts, and an oversized dark green crewneck sweatshirt. 
“Ion know about this Britt it’s a lil… boring,” I mumble looking over the outfit. When did I last wear dark green anyway.
“That’s why you dress it up girl! Wear a collared shirt under it, put on some chains, some nice shoes, trust it’ll fit the vibe, you don’t wanna be doing too much. Have I ever let you down?”
I sigh. I could see the vision the moment she started talking. “No you have not,” I reply. “I gotta start getting ready. Thanks again.”
“Anytime Paige,” she answers and we hang up. I know silence can’t echo, but it’s so overwhelming it almost feels like that’s exactly what it’s doing. Storrs was always loud, lively. Now I had it so bad I was even missing KK’s neverending rambling. 
Quickly putting on a playlist to get rid of the aching pressure on my chest, I begin to get ready, rapping along to a Drake song loudly - but who cares I live alone now. I sleek back my hair, pinning it into a bun - the one hairstyle I knew how to do. I put on some diamond studs, and take my time picking accessories, choosing just the right silver rings to match the chain on my neck, a cross hanging from it. Of course, Brittany had been right. The outfit was great, not too much for a nice restaurant but still totally me.
“Shit,” I mumble to myself when I check the time, realising Lou must be waiting on me downstairs. Grabbing a white cross-body bag I run out the door, quickly making my way down where, just like I thought, the brunette was waiting, tapping on the steering wheel impatiently.
“Sorry I’m late,” I yelp climbing into the passenger seat. Since I barely knew Dallas, Lou had decided it was best if she drove both of us.
Shaking her head, the girl driving merges onto the road swiftly. “Not gonna be making a good impression if we bring our rookie to the party late,” Lou complains.
I scoff, leaning back against the seat and tapping on the back of my phone, feeling butterflies grow in my abdomen. I knew I made good first impressions, that people seemed to like me. I wasn’t called the ultimate rizzler for nothing. But it was still daunting, I was about to meet all the people who worked behind the team, behind me just so we could do what we do. 
The past week had been so strange.The change in dynamic was drastic. I had become so used to being the older one, the one to call the shots, to have so much wisdom to give. Almost naively so. All of a sudden I was back to being the baby - the one who didn’t know anything, who had to depend on others. I thought I was prepared. But the transition was hard to navigate. I didn’t quite know how to act, if I was honest.
“Yo chill, I’m not even that late,” I chuckle lightheartedly, looking out the car window, my eyes trying to find something worth changing my mind about Dallas for.
“Ten minutes is too much, we gotta pick up Rike too,” Lou complains, hands on the wheel. It was only April but the humidity made it feel like summer. “Were you late talking to that girl?”
“What girl?” I ask.
“That girl from last night!” Lou laughs, elbowing me.
I shrug, like I had no clue what she was talking about. A complete lie. I hadn’t been thinking straight ever since I saw her.
“Ohh you mean that girl downstairs!” I say sarcastically. The brunette next to me sees right through it though.
“Never heard your voice get so quiet and shaky I swear,” Lou says, a blush setting on the apples of my cheeks thinking back to last evening. “You were fully stuttering.”
“No way bro!” I groan, biting my lower lip so as to not laugh. Though I knew better. I was definitely stuttering.
I hadn’t seen much of the girl, just her face poking through the door into the hallway. But something about her took my breath away, I couldn’t look anywhere else. It was Lou finally elbowing me that made me realise I had been staring at the dark haired girl. She was so beautiful it physically pained me to look away, but with a struggle, I had done so. 
But then she spoke. And if I wasn’t trembling before, the lilt of her voice had me weak in the knees immediately. It was deep, yet simultaneously sweet. Nevermind the accent that hadn’t left my head all night. Lou made fun of me relentlessly all night because apparently, my voice was shaking when I talked to her. I think she was full of shit.
“You were, I don’t blame you,” the brunette murmurs. “She was hot.”
I kiss my teeth, looking out the window. “Don’t matter, she could be Zendaya and I still wouldn’t get into all that.”
Lou looks bewildered, eyes flickering between me and the road.
I grin at her, shaking my head. “Nah I’m staying celibate. Scout’s honor. Got me that Natty last season.”
It was true. For the first time last season I had not been involved with any girl - and it worked out pretty well in the end. It got me the ring. Adapting to a new team, new city, new life was already hard enough without fucking around. Girls had a way of making everything complicated.
“You? Celibate?” Lou asks, her tone skeptical. I suppose she remembers a different Paige from when we were both Huskies. I had changed a lot though, grown up.
“Trust,” I nod as we park in front of a nice apartment building, Arike making her way out and into the car.
“Yo,” she greets us, and I nod into the rearview mirror, meeting her gaze.
“Sup my rookie!” Arike grins and squeezes my shoulder. “You ready for tonight?”
“Aren’t we just gonna eat and go home?” I ask but Lou and Rike are quick to shake their heads.
“Nah these things don’t end till late, we know how to party here you know what I’m sayin?” The girl in the back grins.
“Don’t blame you, nothing else to do here,” I complain half-jokingly. 
“Yooo not too much. You’ll grow to like it,” Arike laughs, grabbing her phone. “Just don’t drink everything people offer you today, got it?”
“Yeah, everyone’s gonna be trying to get you drunk,” Lou chuckles. “My rookie year they had me almost blacked out.”
“Almost? You were blacked out. We had to carry you to bed.”
I laugh and sigh, rubbing my jaw, my nerves stirring within my abdomen. “Great.”
-
The restaurant is buzzing with people, an entire second floor reserved just for the Dallas Wings employees. Arike, Lou and I show up fashionably late, but to my pleasant surprise everyone’s too busy huddling around the bar, lining up for drinks. I smooth over my green sweatshirt, already feeling the heat get to me. How the hell was I supposed to dress for weather like this? It wasn’t even summer yet.
I walk over to Satou, who’s grinning widely at me.
“Look at you, our baby rookie. Let’s get you a drink!” She smiles convincingly. I glance at Arike and Lou behind me, snickering amongst themselves already. So it begins.
“Feels wrong to drink at a team event like this,” I tell the taller girl, guiding me towards the bar. I was more used to sneaking drinks into hotel rooms, doing our best to hide them from the coaching staff. Guess this is what growing up feels like.
“Nah, don’t worry. Everyone’s chill here,” Satou laughs and orders us two beers before I have the opportunity to interrupt and ask for a Shirley. Reluctantly I grab the beer, cheering with the girl next to me.
“To the saviour of the Wings!!” She jokes and I roll my eyes, shaking my head.
“Sorry, but could you check if they are Manzanilla olives?”
The accent. I immediately turn my back on Satou, my body working before my mind can as my eyes scan the room. And then I see her. The girl from the apartment underneath mine.
She’s standing at the other end of the bar, holding a black clutch in her hand as she talks with the bartender. Her dark hair is down, in perfect waves, not one strand out of order. The dress she’s wearing isn’t red, but more maroon, shade matching the red of her lipstick to the hilt. The one-shoulder dress leaves her left one completely bare, and the golden jewelry sitting against her light brown skin makes her sparkle in the moody lighting. No words would do justice, I know that much. My knees nearly buckle at the sight of her. This strange girl whose name I didn’t even know, yet kept haunting my existence here in Dallas.
“Oh they’re not? Then nevermind the martini, could I just get a glass of Chardonnay please?”
If I had been nervous before, then it was nothing compared to the way my stomach was stirring now. Which is insane considering I didn’t even know this girl’s name. Hell, I better just avoid her tonight. I’m not on my a game. I should just keep my distance.
“Paige! That’s the girl!” Lou is half whispering, half screaming over the crowd, incredibly obviously pointing at the dark haired girl. To my relief she doesn’t notice, too busy swirling the wine in her glass around and sniffing it. 
“Shut up,” I mouth to Lou as she walks up to me, Arike on her tail.
“What girl?” Arike whispers, already eyeing every woman over my shoulder.
I give Lou a look, widening my eyes and telling her to keep her mouth shut. But of course, it fails. I had no power here.
“We ran into this hot girl in Paige’s building yesterday and Paigey here got all shy and nervous.”
Arike bursts out laughing, and I’m pretty sure my face was going completely pink at this point. So I sip half of my beer quickly, letting the girls get over their laughing fit.
“You done?” I ask in annoyed, eyeing the girls.
Gasping for air, Arike nods and grins at me. “Well go get her.”
“She can’t, she’s celibate,” Lou answers. The shorter girl standing next to her scoffs, clearly finding amusement in that.
“Yeah, good luck with that. You’re the new hooper in town, gon’ be drowning in pussy. I was,” she says, sipping her beer. “The rookie year is crazy.”
“Oh trust, she was drowning in it at Uconn too-”
“Okay okay, chill guys,” I interrupt the conversation, Satou standing next to us quietly and chuckling to herself. 
“So which one is it?” Arike asks. Glancing over my shoulder I see the girl from downstairs talking to some guy around the same age as her. Just as I’m about to point her out, Satou and Arike are waving that exact guy over.
“Yo Trey!! My guy!!”
All of a sudden he’s walking over with her. I feel my face going red, my breathing growing ragged, my eyes quickly flicking to the floor. She was like the sun, as much as I wanted to I couldn’t look directly at her - it might blind me.
“What’s up, my favourite girls!” The guy - Trey, apparently - says brightly and dabs all of them up. 
“Ahh and the prodigy!” He grins, turning to me. I lick my lower lip and smile back, offering my hand. “I’m the guy with the camera, you’ll see me around. Trey.”
I dab him up, ignoring the tingling on the left side of my body where the dark haired girl is standing, evidently feeling as awkward as I was. Except she was better at hiding it, looking around the room with an air of confidence.
“Well I’m the one with the basketball, you’ll know where to find me. I’m Paige,” I flash him my most charming smile. Everyone laughs at my joke, except the girl beside me. I quickly decide that perhaps getting drunk wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Oh this is Zari, she’s new from England, Linda finally hired someone to work on the social media shit,” Trey explains, pointing to the girl between me and him. I blink stupidly when I look at her. Somehow she was more beautiful up close which made my throat feel tighter. I quickly sip my beer again, looking to the ceiling. Fuck, pull yourself together. I wasn’t this superficial - feeling like this just because someone was hot. Who knows, she might be the worst person you’ve ever met.
“That would be me, hi!” She says when I realise I was barely listening to Trey before, completely not making note of her name. She shakes everyone’s hand, smiling kindly. Fuck, are my hands sweaty? Better wipe them on my shorts first. I gotta make eye contact - I’m sure a couple seconds will be enough. It might be all I can bear.
The girl turns to me, her right hand extended. I glance at it, gripping it gently. Her hand shake is surprisingly firm, but I barely notice, feeling as if my skin is on fire. The moment our eyes meet I look away, knowing that everyone and their mothers could tell I was blushing right now.
“I forgot your name,” is all that comes out of my mouth, so clumsily I wanna hide behind the bar and never come out when I realise how rude it sounded.
To my shock she’s not taken aback at all by my bluntness, instead holding herself with an almost regal air. I wasn’t sure if I was intimated or turned on - either way I was overcome with a desperate need to make her like me. Surely I was off to a horrible start.
Our eyes meet again. Hers are dark green, deep and rich like the pine trees back home. I can feel myself wanting to sink in deeper, to bask in their familiarity. To feel the sting of cold air and smell the snow falling from the sky and to bask in the scent of pine all over me. Before I know it I notice her glossed lips move, but my ears barely pick anything up. An I? And I think there was an A at the end? You gotta be kidding me.
“I- Ivanna?” I stutter. She chuckles softly, as the others around us snicker amongst themselves. Bitches. 
“No, darling, let’s try again,” she smiles, her tone so sweet it’s bordering on condescending. I fucking swoon at it. “Izara.”
I nod, not sure if the heat on my face is from how hot and humid it was inside the restaurant, or from the public humiliation in front of this gorgeous girl. I chuckle mostly to myself, rubbing my jaw and looking around to break eye contact finally. Far too distracting.
“Izara,” I repeat, noticing Satou, Arike, Lou and some of the others laughing at my clumsy behaviour. I was just begging Izara didn’t make note of why I was acting a fool. 
“Zari is better,” the brunette says, a slight teasing tone to her voice. I breathe heavily out my nose, trying to get the blush to settle from my cheeks.
“Zari, got it.”
“Took you long enough,” Arike teases, making everyone laugh, except Zari who just smiles at me.
“Guys, not all of us are used to the Texas heat. It messes with your head,” she says with enough authority in her voice to make everyone around us stop laughing and give me sympathetic looks.
“Uhh yeah, it’s hot,” I answer bluntly, my voice shaking a little as I rub my neck. On top of the mess I was, I could feel myself sweating. I have to get home as fast as possible. Or not home. But back to the apartment I was staying in for now, until the moment I could go back home to the East Coast.
“Shit, I’m Paige by the way,” I say, realising I never introduced myself to Zari. She scoffs, waving me off.
“Paige, it’s my job to know who you are,” she points out. It’s funny, and I want to laugh. But nothing comes out of my mouth, I’m simply unable to, her proximity leaving me completely discombobulated. So I just sip my beer.
“Right.”
-
Paige Bueckers hates me. The moment she met me I could tell. Maybe she was offended by the fact I didn’t recognise her last night. Figures, a star like her would have a huge ego. Still, I had one job tonight. To make her like me. And I had done the exact opposite. I could tell by the way she avoided my gaze, the way she barely wanted to shake my hand, abruptly pulling it away from my grip. She barely talked to me, wrapped up in a conversation with everyone besides me. I couldn’t afford to disappoint my boss, if I did it would be bye bye Dallas and hello London. 
I’m sitting between Trey and another colleague, Ava, both caught up in a lively conversation as I cut a piece of my steak, wrapping my lips around the fork and chewing on it. Glancing up from my plate, I see Paige throwing her head back as she laughs with her teammates, her entire demeanor so much more lively now that I wasn’t close to her. A slight irritation was growing in me, watching the carefree way she’s joking around with the people around her part of the long table. Who was she to make up her mind on whether she liked me so fast. I was the kind of person you grew to love. I’m sure she would as well.
“Okay everybody!” Curt Miller stands up clinking his glass with the cutlery. Suddenly everyone goes quiet, including the blonde. For a second our eyes meet, sending a strange jolt around my body. Blinking, I shift my gaze to the man, clearly ready to give a speech.
“Alright alright,” he laughs, “I just wanna thank everyone for coming here tonight. I was never good at these so let me keep it short. This is gonna be a big, exciting year and I’m so grateful to the Wings for giving me this opportunity. I know I’m a new face to some of you, but I’m in great company,” he grins and points to Paige. “And Linda here mentioned something about a new media employee too!”
Like on cue Linda stands up a few chairs to the right of me, nodding. “Yes Curt, we’ve got some young blood to help this year all the way from England. Izara here, should help us grow our social media reach.”
I smile, trying to focus on appearing together and poised, some people glancing towards me. 
“Awesome news!” Curt grins as Linda sits back down. “With two young talents I’m sure we’re gonna have a hell of a year,” he says, glancing at both me and Paige. I see Arike rub Paige’s shoulder, clearly excited and happy about how the lottery turned out for the Wings this year.
“Now since I’m boring everyone out of their minds why don’t you two say a few words.”
Pause. I feel a panic rise from somewhere deep in my abdomen. Don’t get me wrong, I had no issue with public speaking, no issue with performing. What I did have an issue with was improvising. I was the girl who planned, who made lists, who used to finish her essays the day before a deadline. With a plan I was golden, but to expect me to say anything, planless, was causing jitters. I was just hoping it didn’t show on my face.
Mine and Paige’s eyes meet, and I immediately know that I wasn’t as composed as I wanted to be. That she knew I was panicking. Bet this is just gonna make her hate me more.
Instead, to my surprise, she clears her throat and begins speaking with an easy confidence.
“Uh well, way to throw us under the bus Curt,” she jokes, immediately making everyone chuckle, including me. “Guess I know what kinda season this is about to be.” Another round of laughs around the table giving her time to scratch the back of her neck as she thinks. With a slight smirk on her face she continues.
“This is a big moment for me. I grew up with the sport, already knew I had a chance to go pro when I was eight. I’ve been waiting for a while to get to the league and to finally be here… It’s surreal. I feel really blessed, really grateful,” she says looking at her plate and then letting out a sly, quiet laugh. “Crazy that I’m drinking with the coaching staff right there, I’m so used to having to hide it.”
I chuckle with the rest of the group. There’s something about her, a smoothness, a charm that makes it impossible not to like her. Even improvising like this she seems completely in control, like she knows she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. It’s impressive. I can’t look away.
“Geno didn’t let you drink?” Curt asks lightheartedly, making Paige’s blue eyes widen.
“He would’ve put belt to ass, lemme just say that.”
More laughter. Paige looks around meeting my gaze.
“Zari, I know you got that cold right? So maybe I should just speak for you so you have a voice tomorrow?”
Huh? I furrow my brows looking at her confused, but her eyes won’t budge, boring into mine. And then I realise. She’s trying to let me off the hook.
“Yes please,” I smile back, looking down to my lap. Something about the way she did that all for me, picked up on my nerves, found a way to get me out of it, was making my insides flip. You wouldn’t do that for someone you hate I suppose.
“I gotchu,” Paige grins, looking back to everyone around the table. “I think we’re both just really grateful for the opportunity and really excited for the season. Anyway, thanks guys.” 
Everyone claps and I do too, my heart warming at the way Paige Bueckers had just saved me. 
“Wait, you're sick?” Trey whispers. 
“Uh, a little.”
-
“Hope you feel better Zari!” Ava says as I wave bye, walking towards the exit.
“Thanks guys, I’m sure I will,” I say, knowing I felt just fine. Great even, after a few glasses of wine. As I step out into the evening, I hold my fur coat in my hands, too hot to put it on. To my surprise I see Paige standing right outside the restaurant, scrolling on her phone. Interrupted by the tapping of my heels, she lifts her gaze, the intensity of her blue eyes surprising.
“Hey,” she smiles, avoiding looking at my face again. She was really giving me mixed signals.
“Hi there,” I say, walking closer. “Thanks for rescuing me earlier.”
She looks at the parking lot, a sly smirk spreading across her face.
“Nah, you’re good,” the blonde grins, diamond studs in her ears sparkling. “Not a fan of speeches?”
I shrug, taking that as an invite for conversation. “No I can certainly be… If you give me approximately two weeks to prepare. Minimum.”
Paige chuckles, nodding to herself. “You’re that kinda girl huh?”
“Desperately so.”
She shifts on her feet, looking for something to say.
“That’s a good trait to have, I try to plan too but usually doesn’t last for longer than a week or two,” she explains. I nod knowingly.
“My brother’s a bit like that,” I sigh. I was already missing him.
Paige turns to me, looking for my gaze.
“You got a brother?”
I nod, “Yeah, he’s younger. Your age.”
She’s taken aback. “Hollup how old are you?”
“Turned 25 last month.”
“Damn,” she says before thinking. I scoff, my eyes widening, though finding amusement in her reaction
”Are you calling me old?” I ask with a serious tone, her face immediately going bright red. 
”No, no no, not at all. You look… great.  Amazing, and like. That’s not even old, I'm just trippin’. I just assumed you were my age but like a year is nothin-” she rambles, tripping over her words.
”Paige I’m taking the piss,” I laugh. She stops, looking at me confused.
”You’re what?”
Oh right, Americans. ”I’m joking around.”
She laughs. ”Taking the piss?”
I laugh too, the air immediately easing between us.
”I’mma start using that,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me. 
”You’re welcome,” I grin.
She scoffs. ”I didn’t say thank you.”
”You should,” I demand, more seriously, meeting her blue eyes. She immediately folds, blinking her long lashes.
”Thank you.”
I suddenly feel hot, warmth rising to my cheeks. I quickly look back to the ground, the intensity of her gaze too much right now.
”Hey, uh… I think we live in the same building,” she murmurs, watching the sky. Shit, she had recognised me, of course.
”Yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you. I really should have,” I quickly explain, feeling a little abashed but trying not to let it show.
”No, I just meant, I ordered an Uber. You need a ride?”
Oh. So she wasn’t mad. She was offering me a ride.
”I’d love one. Are you sure?”
”Totally,” Paige answers, smiling at me softly. She fans her own face, trying to find any relief for the heat. 
”Shit it’s hot,” the blonde groans. ”Do you mind if I take this off? I got a shirt underneath.”
”Oh, no go ahead darling,” I tell her.
With a sigh, Paige’s hands grip the back of her green sweatshirt, pulling it over her head. As she does my eyes can’t help it, flickering over her lower abdomen where both shirts have hiked up, showing a sliver of pale skin and black boxers peeking out of her shorts. Something about it makes my throat go dry. I’m not exactly sure what. The feeling almost unfamiliar to me. 
”That’s so much better,” Paige groans with relief, fixing the white oversized button up, chains resting against her chest. I feel my ears growing hot, quickly averting her gaze.
-
She’s not horrible, on top of being gorgeous she’s fucking great - funny, sweet, charismatic. Would be so much easier if Zari was an asshole like I had hoped earlier. I could feel butterflies in my stomach every time she looked at me. That familiar warmth that I knew too well.
We walk to the Uber together, and I make sure I open the door for her - I didn’t know her that well, but I could tell she was classy. On a whole different level than me. 
I climb in after her, unbuttoning more of my shirt for some airflow. For a second I think I catch her staring, but I knew it was unlikely. She was definitely giving me straight girl vibes. Of course my stupid ass was ogling after a straight girl - nothing new to me. My eyes immediately land on her thighs, her legs crossed and pressing together as she sits next to me. Okay, get a grip Paige.
”So… How you liking Dallas?” I ask, unable to take the silence in the car. 
”I haven’t seen much of it, just moved the other day,” she answers, her voice low but smooth, I could’ve listened to her talk all night. ”It’s very humid.”
”Damn that jetlag gotta be hitting hard huh?” I ask, looking at her.
”I look tired?” She asks, offended. An immediate panic takes over, my hands gripping the sweater in my hands. Shit.
”No you look fucking great. I would’ve never th-”
”Paige. I’m joking.”
Oh. I let out a sigh of relief, chuckling awkwardly. I look out the window, shaking my head at myself. I really needed to chill.
”Taking the piss?”
She lets out a loud, bright laugh, grabbing my forearm. The gold rings on her digits sparkle as her long, manicured nails dig into the white shirt. Immediate goosebumps rising underneath on my skin tell me I’m completely fucked.
“Exactly!” She gleams, her smile wide. “You did so good.”
That. I need to hear her say that again. I clear my throat to interrupt the bad thoughts, feeling Zari’s hand move off me, skin tingling as the weight of her touch lifts.
We pull up to our apartment building, both of us climbing out.
“I can transfer you some money for the ride,” Zari suggests as I let her into the building, eyes falling on her ass just for a second. Okay, no. Look away.
“No, Ion need you to,” I tell her sternly as we begin to climb up the flights of steps, her heels tapping against the tile of the floor. The sound echoes off the walls until we stop by her front door, silence draping over us, making me painfully aware of the way my heart was pounding in my chest.
“Well,” Zari smiles, turning to me, her green eyes even more prominent with the dark makeup surrounding them. Only then I notice how catlike they are, sharp and alert. Challenging almost.
I wanna say something smart, something witty. Something to make her laugh, or blush. I’m rummaging through my brain for anything coherent at least.
“I’ll see you at work,” she says, opening her door. I was running out of time.
“You’ll know where to find me,” I stupidly let out. Zari turns to look at me one more time and nods.
“Don’t stomp too loud please.”
With that she gets in, leaving me there with nothing to do but blink at the closed door and notice the flutters around my stomach. Rubbing my jaw, I slowly climb up one more flight of stairs, mind spinning around the girl. Completely, utterly out of my league. It only made me want her more.
-
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mariespen · 2 days ago
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Breaking Trust. ˚➶ 。˚
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protective!Rafe Cameron x reader warnings: swearing, guns and firing into the air/ground, aggressive anger, anger issues, MDNI: fingering, p in v, praise summary: "You only noticed Rafe when he was storming down to the sandy bonfire, gun in hand." based on this request! thank you so much!
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You were perched like a porcelain doll on Rafe’s lap as the two of you watched a new movie on the TV. His hands were massaging the back of your head softly as his eyes were glued between your thighs and the screen itself. You were squinting at the captions, trying to not ask too many questions. It was your fault, anyways. You let Rafe put on a boring war movie that was three hours long. That alone should show how much you love him.
After thirty minutes into the movie, your phone subtly pings on the spot it was laying on the coffee table. You peered down casually, not drawing Rafe’s attention. The message on the dim screen was from the pouge’s group chat that you had just recently been added to. Without Rafe’s knowledge, of course. Your boyfriend, king of the kooks, had it out for any pouge that came within a mile of his perfect girlfriend. If it was up to Rafe, you would be in your own museum and displayed in a pretty box, for him and only him. In his words, 
“I don’t want the dirt on my shoes touching my pretty girl.”
Of course, this phrase was only spurred on because you got shoulder checked by a guy from the cut. You barely blinked before Rafe made sure he couldn’t move to get in your way again. That being said, if your boyfriend found out you were in a group chat with pouges, he just might lose it.
“I gotta pee baby.” You said softly, faking a squirm as you got up quickly and grabbed your phone. You looked down, seeing Rafe’s small pout. You giggled, kissing his cheek, “I’ll be back, promise.” Rafe nodded and watched your ass sway as you walked into the bathroom, his eyes glued to something new now. You closed the door quickly, scrolling through the messages.
JJ: Beach?
JB: when
JJ: idk like 11
Kie!: kk
Pope: Sounds good.
You felt nervous and a little out of place, but you still wanted to go. Hanging out with the pouges gives you the sense of adrenaline that you’ve been craving for longer than you realized. Your thumbs were shaking and your body was quick with nerves as you typed out your third ever message in the chat.
Me: perf!
Maybe it was too girlie or too kook-y. Were they even talking to you? What if they forgot they added you? Before you could come up with another scenario in your head;
*JJ liked your message*
A sigh of relief left your body and a wave of excitement stuck to your chest. All that was left was figuring out a way to avoid Rafe and make sure he’s not suspicious of you leaving so suddenly.
“Baby, are you okay?” His voice gently yells across Tannyhill.
“Yeah!” You replied, trying to not sound as frantic as you felt.
With a forged sense of causality, you walked back into the living room. The sound of your feet against the hardwood spurred Rafe’s attention and he turned over his shoulder to see you.
“What took so long?” He asked, a slight concern in his tone. “My girlfriends texted, they want to hang out!” You said, coming up with the obvious lie on the spot.
“Which ones?” Rafe asked, cocking his head.
“You know.. Kenna and Eliza!” A smile plastered on your face. You’ve never been good at lying.
Something about Rafe felt different as he shrugged and told you to have fun. Thinking you made it out, you ran up to his room to re-apply some makeup and grab a change of clothes to wear at the beach. A bikini was in your sights and you grabbed it, along with a draped skirt and one of Rafe’s sweaters. Shoving everything into a beach bag, you headed back downstairs.
“Where ya goin?” Rafe asked, towering over you now.
“Beach!” You replied, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“It’s 10:30 at night baby, are you sure?” He gently pushed, his arms coming up to hold your shoulders with concern.
“Yeah, I promise!” You kissed his cheek and brushed past him, “I love you!”
“I love you too.” Rafe sighed, obviously stressed about the abrupt change in plans.
With a surprising lack of resistance from your boyfriend, you got into your car and began to drive down to the cut, meeting the pouges at their normal spot on the beach. You grinned as cheers were heard when you showed up, a bonfire already being started. Kiera met you in the sand, a beer in her hand as she slurred her laughter. 
“Hi Kie!” You giggled with her, beginning your walk down to the fire.
JJ and John B met you with a beer and marshmallows, encouraging you to make s’mores. The fire grew throughout the night and you drunkenly ran around with them. The sand kicked at your feet as you ran from JJ after stealing his knife and the water drenching you and Kie when she convinced you to run into the waves. Pope talked to you with the others, and you mindlessly listened to his rants as you traced drawings in the sand, John B’s towel wrapped around you. Your lack of observance was a weakness. Throughout the excitement and exhilaration, you failed to notice Rafe’s truck parked at an overlook, with your boyfriend inside. His eyes were on you as you drank and forgot about anything besides what was keeping your attention that second.
When you had left the house originally, Rafe was concerned. He had his original suspicions, so he reluctantly let you leave. Topper and Kelce had invited themselves into Tannyhill once they realized your car wasn’t there anymore, but they instead found Rafe watching your location intently. After some comically deep discussions, Topper had convinced Rafe to follow you. Admittedly, this was an easy thing to convince him of. Rafe’s keys were in his pocket the moment you left. He drove with urgency, seeking you out. Rafe told himself that he was just worried about your safety. At the beach this late, the sneaker waves could grab you in a second. Deep down, he knew that there was a lack of trust, and he needed to talk to you about it. You only noticed Rafe when he was storming down to the sandy bonfire, gun in hand.
“Get away from my fucking girl!” He yelled, firing a warning shot into the air.
Confrontation sparked instantly as you tried to beg Rafe to not do anything he would regret while the pouges taunted him like it was a game. Your heart broke on the betrayal from either side. Rafe’s constant threat through the bullets in his gun and the lack of protection or awareness from the others was giving you anxiety. Your boyfriend didn’t play pretend when it came to you.
“Rafe.. Rafe please! Put it down!” You begged, tugging on his bicep.
“You brought them this.” He responded, firing a shot into the sand.
“Fuck you Rafe!” JJ spat on the dent the bullet made.
Tears flooded your eyes as neither group let up. You felt utterly hopeless and all to blame. The only thing to divert the attention of everyone was the soft sound of sirens and the illumination of quick-approaching lights. Rafe pulled you along with him, forcing you into his passenger seat with a subtle undertone of gentleness, not wanting to hurt you badly. The tires dragged through the sand as your boyfriend sped away, driving back to Tannyhill.
The air in his truck was thick with anger and anxiety. Rafe’s lack of words were enough to speak for themselves. You stared out the window in disbelief, trying to push everything away.
The truck parked at Tannyhill and Rafe got out, slamming his door before coming to the other side, picking you up from the car and carrying you into the house with a sense of annoyance. Rafe took you up to his room with little protest and sat you down on the bed.
“What the fuck?” He asked, obviously hurt by your lies.
“Rafe m’so sorry baby I-“ You began the apology rant you prepared in the car, but he cut you off.
“I trusted you. Why the fuck did you lie?” He said, scoffing at your tears, “Don’t start with me. Tell me.” “You hate them!” The words flew from your mouth, “They are my friends and I still want to hang out with them but you hate pouges! For no reason!” Your voice was rising without you realizing.
Rafe groaned in anger, “That’s a good enough reason on its own!”
“Not to bring a gun!” You yelled, emotions running high.
In an instant, he shoved your makeup off the dresser and onto the floor, shattering the pretty pink Miss Dior bottle he bought for your anniversary.
“Stop!” You sobbed, crumpling into the bed.
“I’m fucking done! You can’t keep pulling this shit!” Rafe yelled back, storming out of the room.
The strong scent of the perfume gave you a pounding headache. You crawled off of the bed and staggered into the bathroom, laying in the empty bathtub to escape the scent. You fell asleep quickly, the emotional and physical exhaustion sweeping your feet. There was no signs of Rafe as your eyelids became heavy and protested the bright bathroom light. The curled position you had pulled yourself into was the same one you fell into a deep sleep in.
Soft mutters and shaking movements awakened you slightly, hours later. Rafe cradled you in his arms, kissing your forehead. The bedroom no longer smelled like the shattered bottle of perfume, implying that he had come back in and cleaned up the mess he had made.
The blankets were a glorious feeling as he helped you into bed, wrapping his arms around you.
“M’sorry.” Rafe whispered, falling asleep with you in his arms. You were quick to follow, escaping reality to sleep.
The sun shined through your window, just as bright as the moon was the night before. Your boyfriend laid next to you, kissing your arms softly. The gentle movements woke you up, and once he realized this, he began to apologize.
“Baby I’m so sorry.” He whispered, holding your chin to lock your gaze on him, “I overreacted.” “I’m sorry too.” You responded, tearing up and collapsing into his arms, “I broke your trust. I should’ve just talked to you.” “Shh.. s’okay.” Rafe reassured, his hands playing with your hair subconsciously, “I let my anger get the best of me. I shouldn’t have.”
 You laid in his arms, feeling more alive than you did with the pouges the night before. “Let me make it up to you?” Rafe whispered, pulling you up and kissing your neck gently. You giggled before gasping at his cautious hickeys.
His hand wandered to the hem of your panties, playing with them to tease you. Your anticipatory moans lead him forward, getting on top of your desperate body.
“Rafe.. please..” You mumbled, grabbing out for him.
“Be patient, love.” He whispered, kissing down your legs after stripping you of your panties and top.
Your lips met one last time before you felt his fingers softly rub circles into your clit. You moaned out for him, holding onto his bicep for any kind of stability. 
“R-rafe..” You whimpered.
“So wet f’me.. swear you get sexier every day. Just don’t wanna share my girl.” He mumbled, kissing your neck.
“Close..” Your eyes rolled back, dumb on his fingers alone.
“No baby..” Rafe chuckled as you whined at the loss of his hand, “You’re going to cum on me, yeah?” The moan you cried out was pornographic as he slowly dragged his hard cock through your walls.
“Always so fuckin’ tight.” He groaned, fucking you slowly and deep. Rafe felt your every clench and spasm, speeding his pace up with ease.
“Too- too much..!” You cried, drunk off of pleasure as he fucked you on his cock.
“No baby.. you got it. Be good.” He whispered, feeling you coming closer and closer to edge, “So perfect.. like you were fuckin’ made f’me.” 
“Close!” You cried out, the rest of your mind consumed with the pleasure he was fucking into you. Your body trembled as you came, shaking underneath him and clenching around his cock. He groaned, gripping your hair and burying his face into the crook of your neck as he came inside of you.
Rolling off of you, Rafe laid lazily beside you. He turned his head after a few minutes, kissing you on the cheek and getting up from the bed, despite your lazy protests.
“Gotta get you cleaned up..” He said, his tone soft and careful as he wiped you down with a warm cloth.
Rafe showered your spent body in kisses before pulling you up and carrying you downstairs to the couch, kicking the forgotten cap of your broken perfume bottle under the dresser.
“Gotta get you new perfume, hm?” He said, kissing your cheek and letting you snuggle into his lap on the couch.
Rafe turned on the TV, resuming the same movie from last night. You groaned, rolling your eyes and burying your face in his bare chest.
“You love me.” Rafe said with a chuckle, kissing the top of your head.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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levisjinchuriki · 2 days ago
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truly, madly, deeply - toji fushiguro
summary: since you left him, toji has been indulging in nothing but bad habits. he makes an impulsive decision stumbling home from the bar one night
warning: post-breakup angst, mentions of heavy drinking, depression, being numb, a whole lot of angst
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it’s late—too late for toji to still be out. the bar is nearly empty, quiet except for the scraping sound of chairs as the staff begins their nightly routine of wiping tables and stacking stools. the bartender shoots toji an unimpressed glance as he sets down another glass of whiskey in front of him, grumbling about closing tabs soon. toji doesn’t argue, just wraps his calloused fingers around the glass and lets the amber liquid burn as it slides down his throat. it’s painful, but the familiar sting is something he’s come to crave recently. as much as it hurts, he tries to savor the taste before throwing some cash on the table and heading out.
it’s the kind of quiet that makes the weight in his chest feel unbearable, pressing harder against ribs that have long since forgotten what it’s like to feel light. 
he stumbles out of the bar, unsteady on his feet, muttering curses under his breath as he fumbles for his phone in his coat pocket. outside, the cold bites at his skin, the damp air clinging to him as the rain had never truly stopped. 
the screen glows dimly, the battery dangerously low, but it’s enough to illuminate the list of names he hasn’t touched in weeks. his thumb hovers over the screen, scrolling sluggishly past contacts that don’t matter. then he sees your name. and time stands still. 
for a long moment, all he can do is stare. his thumb trembles, hesitating, like his drunk mind is at war with itself. there’s a part of him that knows better, that knows he should put the phone back in his pocket and walk away. but the other part—the louder, more desperate part—wins. his thumb moves, and the call begins to ring.
once. twice. three times.
toji squeezes his eyes shut, already regretting his actions. he’s not your problem anymore. he lost the right to call you, to hear your voice, to ask for comfort. and yet, here he is, a fool hoping for a miracle at a time when no one should be awake.
“toji?”
he freezes. he hasn’t heard your voice in… how long has it been? the days have blurred together into a haze of alcohol and sleepless nights since you left. he grips the phone tighter, his throat suddenly dry.
“hey” he drawls. there’s a pause on your end. he cringes when he hears a muffled yawn from you. 
“it’s late. are you okay?”. your voice is soft, groggy from the sleep he undoubtedly pulled you from. his heart breaks at the sound of it. 
“yeah. -m fine. jus’….” he slurs. 
“toji… are you drunk?” your voice, laced with concern, strikes a nerve. you sound just as worried as it always did when it came to him, a tone he doesn’t think he deserves anymore. you’ve seen these parts of him before—the ones he hides from the world but somehow always let slip in front of you. 
“nah” he lies. “just a little… tipsy”. his feet shuffle clumsily against the wet pavement as he stumbles down the block. he feels everything and nothing all at once—silly, hopeless, in love, and heartbroken. 
“toji–” your voice is soft but unmistakably disappointed. it’s a tone he’s heard before, one that digs under his ski. he knows that sound. it’s the same one you used to have when he broke promises, when he let you down, when he let himself down.
there are countless reasons why you and toji aren’t together anymore—reasons that keep replaying in his mind whenever he has too much to drink. but none of those reasons stop you from caring about him, even now. and that makes it worse somehow.
“listen…” his voice drops lower, thick with the slur of alcohol. “i know it’s late. s’probably real stupid to call, huh?”. he laughs, but it’s half-hearted, a dry, almost painful sound.
your silence is heavy and suffocating. toji knows you’re probably shaking your head right now, caught between concern and frustration. he can picture it so clearly—how you’re probably biting your lip, wanting to say something but holding back. it almost makes him smile.
as the silence stretches, the sound of heavy rainfall in the background fills the space, a constant, rhythmic sound that matches the beat of his tired, aching heart.
“where are you?” you ask, your voice barely audible above the rain.
he blinks, his mind swimming in a fog that doesn’t seem to clear. he’s disoriented for a second, now realizing that he’s walked in the wrong direction. “why?” he mumbles, a slight frown tugging at his lips.
“because i’m coming to get you” you reply, your tone gentle but firm. “you shouldn’t be out alone”. toji closes his eyes for a moment, your words sinking in, a warmth creeping through his chest despite the alcohol and the cold rain. he hears the shuffle of movement on your end of the line, and he can almost see it—the way you’re probably slipping into those ridiculous bunny slippers he always teased you about. 
a small, tired smile threatens to break through as leans back against a lamppost. “don’t bother” he mutters, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “i’m fine”. another lie, but he doesn’t expect you to believe it.
“tell me where you are” you demand. he’ll take your tone over no contact with you any day. 
“always so good. so… responsible” he mutters, the words slurring as his mind drifts. “you don’t gotta save me, y’know? i’m fine. always fine” he drags out.
“toji, tell me where you are” your voice is stern. it’s the same tone you used when he was in trouble, the same one you’d use when he messed up, the same one you used when you finally told him you were done.
he slumps against the cold, damp wall of the nearest building, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. he mutters the name of the street, barely audible, his words jumbled and ragged.
“i’m on my way” you tell him. there’s a brief pause before you add, “stay there”. for once, he listens. toji just stands there– drunk, stupid, soaked and numb to the rain as it continues to hit him. 
he doesn’t know how long it takes before your car finally pulls up. the headlights shine bright, momentarily blinding him. he blinks a few times and there you are—stepping out of the car, pulling a coat around yourself and wondering how he’s been out here this long. you look at him, and for a split second, toji sees everything he’s been trying to drown out. disappointment flickers behind your eyes, sharp and painful. but there’s something else there too—worry. 
“toji…” you sigh, a sound filled with exhaustion. he feels it in his chest like a punch. he’s happy to see you, but upset that you’re out here in the storm, chasing after him like this.
“you didn’t have to come” he mutters, but even as he says it, he stands up straighter—forcing himself to make the effort, even if it’s not convincing. his legs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead, but he tries to pull himself together. he doesn’t want you to see how much he’s been drowning.
your gaze doesn’t miss anything. he’s drenched, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to him, but worse than that—he’s drunk. and sad. more sad than he’s let on, even to himself. he knows it. you know it. it’s clear to you both that he hasn’t been taking care of himself—not in the way you always hoped he would.
“get in the car” you say, the command simple but firm. your voice is steady, unaffected by the storm, and it somehow cuts through the haze of his thoughts.
he doesn’t argue. not with you. not when you’re looking at him like that, not when he knows you’re right, and you’ve always been right about him.
---
the drive is quiet at first. the only sound is the soft hum of the heat, keeping toji from succumbing to hypothermia, and the rain as it taps steadily against the windshield. toji sits slouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes half-lidded as he stares out the window. his gaze is distant, unfocused—lost in the mess of his own thoughts.
“you shouldn’t drink like this,” you say, breaking the silence. your voice is soft but firm. “it’s dangerous.”
toji doesn’t respond immediately. you can see the way his jaw tightens, his shoulders stiffen just slightly. he’s a big guy, tough, but even toji has his limits. he might not show it, but you know how close he is to the edge. and tonight, it’s clear that he’s just a few drinks away from being completely inebriated.
“don’t start with me” he mutters, his voice rough with frustration. you’ve heard that tone before—the one he gets when he’s pushed, when he knows he’s in the wrong but doesn’t want to hear it.
you sigh quietly to yourself, knowing exactly where this conversation is going. you’d always had a habit of acting like his mother, trying to take care of him, trying to get him to listen to reason. it’s inevitable, really—toji always acted like a child in so many ways, and you, stubborn as you are, always fell into the role of the one who tried to save him.
“how many times have i—” you begin, but he cuts you off before you can finish.
“i know!” he snaps, his voice sharper than he means it to be. “i know, alright?”
the words hang in the air between you, heavy with the tension that always lingers when the two of you argue. you’re quiet for a moment, the only sound now the swish of the windshield wipers fighting against the rain.
you grip the steering wheel a little tighter, steadying yourself. the urge to push, to argue further, is strong, but you know better than to start that fight now. the last thing he needs is more words thrown at him, more of your frustration tangled up in his guilt.
right now isn’t the time to argue.
"then why?" you ask quietly, your voice barely rising above the sound of rain hitting the car.
toji presses his head back against the seat and lets out a humorless laugh. “why not?” he replies, his words slurred but sharp enough to sting.
you furrow your brows. he’s being difficult, like always—pushing you away with his deflection, his refusal to take anything seriously. “that’s not an answer” you say, glancing at him briefly before returning your eyes to the road.
toji turns his head to look at you then, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the car. the streetlights outside streak shadows across his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness etched into his features. he looks tired—not just from tonight, but from everything.
“i don’t owe you an answer” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now.
it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything, not after everything. not after the way you left, after the way you shattered him. you feel a pang of guilt in your chest, sharp and unforgiving, but you push it down.
“i’d still like to know” you admit, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.
he doesn’t respond right away. instead, he turns his gaze back to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. the silence stretches between you again, heavy and unyielding, but you don’t press him further. you’ve learned by now that toji won’t be pushed into answers he’s not ready to give.
the road ahead blurs slightly through the rain, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to bridge the distance between the two of you.
he scoffs, turning his gaze back to the window. “what’s the point?”. it’s not a question meant for you—it’s one he’s been asking himself for a while now. you chew on your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say next, though you’re not sure anything will make a difference.
“you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself” you finally sigh.
toji snorts, a bitter sound that cuts through the tension. “yeah? and who’s gonna help me? you?”
the sharpness in his tone catches you off guard, and you flinch despite yourself. his words hit harder than they should, not because they’re unfair, but because they’re true. you left. you made the choice to walk away, and now you’re here, pretending you can fix something that might never be fixable.
he notices. if there’s one thing toji’s always been good at, it’s noticing things, even when he’s drunk and falling apart. he exhales heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “sorry” he mutters, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t mean that”.
you know he didn’t. toji’s harsh words were never the ones that hurt the most—it’s the truth buried in them that stings.
“it’s fine” you reply quietly, your gaze fixed on the road ahead. but it’s not fine, and you both know it.
neither of you says anything for the rest of the drive. the rain continues to tap against the windshield as the distance between you grows wider.
---
toji doesn’t move after you park your car. he just sits there, staring blankly at the dashboard like it holds answers to questions he’ll never ask. his shoulders are slumped, his jaw tight. even with the alcohol dulling his senses, his thoughts refuse to let him rest.
“you wanna go inside?” you turn to look at him, suppressing the urge to reach over.
he blinks, the question pulling him back to the present. “yeah” he mutters, but his body remains rooted to the seat.
you don’t rush him. moments like these are rare—when toji lets you see him vulnerable. it’s heartbreaking, and it makes you ache in ways you thought you’d forgotten.
instead of pressing him, you wait. he’s always been a man who needs time to gather himself. and tonight, for whatever reason, he’s letting you stay long enough to witness it.
eventually, he exhales, a slow, shaky breath that seems to release some of the tension coiled in his chest.
finally, toji looks at you. really looks at you. his eyes are glassy, the alcohol making them more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time.
“you’re too good for this” he says, his voice heavy with sadness. it’s not just the words that hit you—it’s the way he says them, like he’s admitting something he’s been too scared to face. for the first time, toji acknowledges there’s something wrong with him. that something is his fault.
“for what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“for me” he says almost defeated. “i’m no good. i’m just… this” he gestures vaguely at himself, his hand falling back to his side as if the effort of even that small movement is too much.
it’s clear in the way he’s looking at you that he means it. that he’s thought about this, felt it deep in his bones. you’re not sure if he’d ever admit it sober, but tonight, it’s out there in the open.
you don’t know what to say to that. words feel inadequate, like they’ll only make things worse. 
“you should get some rest” you whisper instead. “it’s late”.
toji releases a breath, his gaze shifting to your apartment building. he’s been here countless times before. but it’s different now. where he used to feel at home, he suddenly feels like a stranger. 
“okay”. his footsteps echo softly behind you.
when he walks in, all the memories come rushing back. the faint scent of the candle you always light fills his nose. the throw blanket draped over the couch is in the same place it’s always been. even the little details—the spaces in your home where you’d made room for him—are still there. his boots still sit by the door, his favorite mug in the cabinet, the sweatshirt he thought he’d lost folded neatly.
you lead him to your room without a word, offering him a towel and setting a pair of dry clothes on the bed. they’re his– clothes he left behind when things fell apart. you didn’t have the heart to throw them out, and he didn’t have the heart to come back for them.
“you’ll get sick” you mutter, setting a black shirt and grey sweats on the bathroom sink before turning to leave. you always fussed over him like this—still do, even now. toji doesn’t know what to do with the tight ache in his chest. he wants to cry.
by the time he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in warm clothes, he hears the hum of the dryer from the hallway. of course, you’d snuck in while he was washing up to scoop his sopping clothes off the floor.
in your room, you’re finishing fixing the bed, smoothing the sheets and adding extra pillows—just the way he likes. it doesn’t escape him, the way you still remember these small details.
“i can take the couch” he says, his voice low and reluctant.
you shake your head, dismissing the offer as you grab a pillow and blanket for yourself. “sleep” you say firmly, leaving no room for argument.
he hesitates for a moment, but the exhaustion weighing on him makes it hard to fight back. his body aches for rest, and though a part of him wants to address the unspoken words that hang heavy between you, he knows it’s not the time. 
“we’ll talk later” you whisper as you step toward the door, your hand brushing the light switch.
toji watches you for a moment, standing there in the dim glow of the hallway. his throat tightens, and he wants to say something—anything—but no words come out. instead, he nods silently as you turn off the light and leave him alone in the room.
“thanks” he murmurs, his voice so quiet it’s almost lost in the stillness of the room. but you hear it.
toji lies awake in the bed you once shared, staring at the ceiling. the familiarity of it all threatens to undo him—the soft sheets, the faint scent of you lingering on the pillow. it’s overwhelming. 
he wonders, not for the first time, how someone like you ever loved him. the thought twists in his chest, sharp with regret. he thinks about how things ended, how he pushed you away, and yet here you are—offering him kindness he doesn’t deserve.
the bed feels empty without you beside him, but as his heavy eyelids finally close, he clings to the comfort of your lingering presence. it’s enough, for now, to ease the ache as he drifts off to sleep.
---
to be continued... thank you for reading!!!
part 2
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heavyhitterheaux · 2 days ago
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How did wife feel about Joe buying the bat mobile?
She was NOT happy 😭😭
Especially since she had told him literally two weeks before that she was pregnant
Joe's eyes fluttered open from feeling the weight shift on the bed, meaning that his wife was awake. He was facing away from you and let his eyes adjust for a minute before turning around to face you. Once he did, he instantly saw that you were giving him a death glare.
“Uh? Princess? Good morning. Is everything okay?” He asked as the same expression remained on your face.
“Your name is not baby right now to me. It's Jos…”
“No! Don’t you dare say it.”
“Don't interrupt me, Joseph. Because I am pissed at you right now.” You told him as he looked around confused.
“What did I do? I literally just opened my eyes.”
“I will throw you across the room if you don't lose that attitude.”
“Baby! I don't have an attitude! I'm just confused as to why you're mad at me! Are you going to tell me what's wrong?” He asked as he sat up against the headboard.
“Why did I wake up at 2 in the morning to throw up because your children know absolutely no chill and I glance down at my phone to see a bombardment of text messages AND alerts having to do with my husband?”
“Well Hard Knocks premiered last night…. I did look pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“It's what you said on Hard Knocks that has me pissed off.”
Just then Joe had a realization.
He bought the BatMobile and forgot to tell you.
And the first thing after he said it to Ja'Marr and Tee was them asking the question if he had told you yet.
“Oh um… I forgot to mention that.”
“Joseph Lee. That thing costs 2.9 MILLION DOLLARS. HOW DO YOU JUST FORGET TO TELL YOUR WIFE!?”
“And Justin did mention that it wasn't the smartest financial decision…” He muttered and you continued staring at him.
“Hmm, is it going to come equipped with two car seats? Because you better figure out how to fit them in there.” You told him and he gave you a tight lipped smile.
“Well I don't get it for a year, I can always make a call and ask for adjustments. Who knows? They might be able to fit the car seats in there.” He answered but you did not look amused.
“You knew that you were going to be a father to twins and you still decided to buy it?”
“The opportunity was right there, babe! Like when am I going to have another chance like this!? And this was before I knew you were pregnant!”
"When we have no money to feed our kids, I'm going to tell them that daddy decided to buy a batmobile instead and that's why everyone's stomach is EMPTY."
"Okay little miss dramatic much."
"I'm about to tell Ja'Marr to come and get you because between me not sleeping and you buying things for 2.9 MILLION DOLLARS you are on my nerves."
"Just think about us fucking in the front seat."
"No. Stop trying to break my focus from me being mad at you."
"But is it working?"
"A little, but if you ask me again later, I'll deny it."
But she's obviously going to let him keep it despite how annoyed she is about the entire thing.
And now she's going to try and get her elephant 😭
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therealmylesmorales · 1 day ago
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What Do I Do?
Summary: Caitlyn called you…but you weren’t supposed to hear that.
Warnings: toxic situation relationship, alludes to smut (minors fuck off or you will get blocked), don’t know if there’s others. Modern!au, we don’t do that crybaby shit over here
Notes: I wrote this all in one sitting while drinking so if there’s any mistakes or anything, don’t talk about it
WC: 1.0k
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You were at home, lounging on the couch with your favorite show playing on the TV. It was a Sunday evening, the sun was just about to set and you had no classes for the day and decided to spend the rare day by yourself.
Realistically, you would rather have one other person with you but she hadn’t responded to you at all since early morning.
Unfortunately, that was pretty common for Caitlyn; she had her phone on either DND or was just busy altogether. It did get on your nerves a lot of the time but Caitlyn always took your mind off of it whenever you two were together; she always gave you her full attention and you never doubted anything when you were with her.
The only thing that irked you about the taller girl was her lack of wanting to further the relationship. Whenever you tried to broach the topic of finally becoming exclusive after almost seven months, Caitlyn brushed you off or completely changed the conversation. Most times it did lead to arguments that led the both of you staying silent for almost a week until she ended up coming back like nothing happened.
You’ll have to force her to have that conversation one day so the weird grey area you were in would finally clear up.
It was only a few minutes later when your phone rang.
Cait 💜
You couldn’t help but smile at the contact name and eagerly answered.
”Hey, Cait. I was just thinking about you—what’s up?”
She didn’t respond.
“Caitlyn? Hello?”
There was a slight rustling sound on the other end. You stayed quiet incase you could hear anything.
After a few seconds of silence, you finally heard a soft voice.
“Fuck…”
You paused, making sure you heard correctly. If you were right, then Caitlyn was enjoying her own solitude in a different way and wanted to tease you into coming over.
But…something seemed off.
You continued to listen, seeing if anything else could be heard. And soon enough, something else came through.
At first, it was Caitlyn. “Oh, f-fuck. Don’t stop.”
Then the next noise made your blood run cold.
“Yeah, feels good doesn't it, cupcake? You gonna cum for me?”
“No fucking way,” you muttered to yourself. The light blanket that was laying on top of you was suddenly thrown off of you as you raced for the closest pair of shoes you could find.
She wouldn’t—Caitlyn wouldn’t do that to you. That wasn’t like her, was it? You weren’t sure if you believed those words, as much as you wanted to. But on the whole drive there, that was the only thing going through your mind.
You soon found yourself standing outside of her door, the spare key that was hidden inside of her outside plant in hand as you hesitated. Your heart was thudding to the point where you were sure it could be heard from other people. You weren’t sure what was waiting for you on the other side of the door but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.
The door carefully swung open; the living room was clear but there was noise that could be heard from down the hall, towards Caitlyn’s room. Your steps were quiet as you walked closer to the cracked open door.
There was a girl with pink hair laying halfway on top of Caitlyn, who was eagerly pulling her closer, giving her almost desperate kisses. Caitlyn, however, seemed to be enjoying it, thanks to the hefty moans that were coming from her. It was the sounds of the door opening further that gained their attention.
Immediately Caitlyn pushed the other girl off of her, resulting in her tumbling to the floor. A head full of pink jumped up while Caitlyn could only look at you with wide eyes.
“Hi?” The girl said, confusion heavy in her voice. “Are you Caitlyn’s roommate? Sorry, we were being too loud?”
She didn’t seem bothered in the slightest that the only thing that was covered of her was the lower half of her body by a pair of boxers. Yet still, your main focus was Caitlyn, whose eyes were quickly flickering between the both of you.
”Roommate, Caitlyn?” You hissed. “Are you serious?”
”So, no to the roommate then?”
”We’re together! So, no. I’m not her roommate.”
She could only blink at you. “I’m…sorry? What?”
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Was the only thing Caitlyn could say at the moment.
You waved your phone at her, showing the call log you received from her not even an hour ago.
”I wasted seven months on you, Caitlyn.” Your voice was tighter, either from anger or sorrow, you couldn’t tell which one. “Almost an entire year, you were—what, with other people?!”
”Person, one, her,” Caitlyn corrected, reaching for her silk robe that wasn’t far from her. “I’m allowed to see other people seeing how we’re not together.”
”Exclusive or not, loyalty just means shit to you, right?”
You could see Caitlyn roll her eyes. “I don’t owe you loyalty. You’re being overly dramatic on technicalities.”
“Technicalities? What—“
“Wait, wait. You have a girlfriend?” You then remembered the third party that was still in the room; she seemed to have snapped out of the stupor she was in. “What the fuck, Cait—you said you were single!”
”Because I am!” She yelled. Cait then turned to you. “We are not together. I don’t know how many times I have to keep telling you this. We’re nothing!”
You sucked in a harsh breath, refusing to tell the tears that were collecting fall. “You’re right, Caitlyn. We’re not together. We are nothing, and we will continue to be that. Go fuck yourself.”
Caitlyn looked surprised at your words. Out of anything, that was the last thing she suspected from you. As you moved to leave her apartment, you could hear her trying to grab your attention once more before Vi intercepted to yell out her own words.
The strong facade lasted until you got into your car. You just settled down into your seat when the tears finally started falling.
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nxrvqna · 3 days ago
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reunion sex was unfathomable with gojo. his lips never leaving yours. a clash of teeth. heavy panting. skin sheen with sweat. it’s the yearning, the clumsy touches, the pure desperation.
you tugged at his lily locks to bring him forward to you, and gojo groaned from the dull pain of your pull, abs flush against your back as he hastily plowed himself into you. your slick allowed for an ease in movement, and he brought one hand down away from your tit to tease and flick at the delicious bundle of nerves, hidden beneath your hood.
you squeal out in ecstasy, tears threatening to escape your eyes. he pulls out and turns you on your back, pushing your knees to your chest, before bottoming in you again, knocking whatever wind you had left in your lungs out.
he presses all his body weight against you, opting for shallow thrusts, trying to get even more impossibly closer to you. he captures your lips in a tender kiss, contradictory to the assault he was launching on your pussy. he unsheathed himself from your glove of a cunt, leaving just his tip in, before slamming into again at full force. your tears broke free like a dam, racing down your cheeks and he lapped them right up, savouring the saltiness against the sweetness of your skin.
“best believe i’m never leaving your side again, sweetheart. d-don’t know how i lasted so long without your cunt.” he whined. his broad shoulders kept your knees knocking against your temples, and your fingers snaked behind to his nape to bring his head to the crook of your neck. “don’t ever leave me baby, i can’t han- handle it!” you cried between thrusts. “i love you so much!” his handsome face littered with thin scars scrunched from your confession, his dick throbbing.
he felt himself grow harder and saw the alarm in your face and moaned. “oh yeah?” he jackhammers into you at a lethal pace, ruddy tip prodding your cervix. “gonna have to marry you then, never let me leave, huh?” you felt yourself clench around him, hearing his promise and he lets out a breathy laugh.
every snap of his hips against yours was bruising, having one intention and one intention only; to make sure your warm cavern remembered the shape of his dick, stayed as a mould of his dick. the scar circling his torso flexed with every thrust, the colour of the blemish contrasting against the pale skin. your feather- like hand moved towards the mark, gently caressing it. you whispered his name and called out to him like a prayer, like he was your saviour, your solution to every problem.
truth be told he was. being with you again was nauseating, an attachment so sickening. his lack of control and composure when he stepped through that door was insane, hands itching to be on you.
his relentless pumping and your essence had formed a glossy ring of white around the base of his cock, and he knew one thing for sure, he would never leave your side again.
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flemingology · 16 hours ago
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O is for the only one I see ─ alexia putellas x reader
part 2 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!
in which: you and Alexia have your first communication mishap after a family meeting gone wrong
warnings: argument, miscommunication, insecure reader
wc: 7.9k
an: i hope you understand the concept lol. i think the name 'miniseries' makes it sound like it's all gonna be 1 continuous story but it's more a one-shot vibe based on a lyric each time, as i describe in the summary. nonetheless, hope you enjoy!
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In the past few months, Alexia had seamlessly become a part of your every day in ways you never thought possible. From her quiet insistence on walking you to your car after late dinners to the way she texted you pictures of her travels when she was away for games, it felt... natural. Easy, even. But meeting her family? That was a whole new level, one you weren’t sure you were ready for.
The way Alexia spoke about her family never failed to fill you with warmth. The way she, her mother and her sister bonded together over the course of their lives was something you could only admire. They were pillars in her life, the people she would fall back on when everything else in her life seemed to be going south. And now, you were about to meet them. It wasn’t just nerves bubbling under the surface, it was the nagging doubt if you were going to fit in. If they would approve of you, think of you worthy enough to date their daughter.
Alexia didn’t date. Hadn’t, in a good few years. She held herself to high standards and her family knew that, so they only wanted what was best for her. Whether that’s what you were, they’d have to see. What if they don’t like you?
“You know they’re going to love you,” Alexia said, leaning against the bathroom door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, as you smoothed down your shirt for what felt like the sixth time in as many minutes. You shot her a glare. “You say that now. Wait until Alba starts grilling me like a detective.” She laughed, walking over to you and fixing your collar. She cradled your face, hands on your cheeks and pressed a reassuring, lingering kiss against your lips. “If Alba says anything, I’ll handle her. I just want you to be yourself.” You shot her a grateful smile, turning your gaze back at the mirror, taking your appearance in another time.
“Do you think this is too much? Or… not enough? I can change if you want, I have another couple options laying on the bed.” Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and some of your nerves settled at the warmth that radiated from her embrace. She pressed gentle kisses against the side of your neck, you leaning your head back against her shoulder to allow her more space. “You look perfect. My family is not expecting royalty, you know. They’re just excited to meet you.” You turned in her grasp then, tucking a couple strands of hair behind her ear. “Excited to meet me? Or excited to see if I’m good enough for you?”
Your girlfriend–– it still felt surreal to call her that, chuckled at that, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Mi vida, stop. They won’t judge you. Mami will probably try and feed you whatever she’s been cooking since this morning the second you walk through the door, and my sister will ask you a hundred questions about how we met.” You stayed silent at that, taking a moment of appreciation for the kindness and understanding that came from your lover.
“You’re overthinking. They’re going to love you. How could they not?” Alexia tilted your head back up, her eyes meeting yours. “Because I’m not… you. I don’t have the perfect career or the perfect family. What if they think I’m not good enough?”
Alexia bit her lip at that, before taking your hand and leading you back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You did, your knees on either side as you faced her again. “First of all, I’m not perfect. And second, that’s not how my family works. They don’t care about status or titles. All they care about is kindness, respect, and whether you make me happy.” The Spaniard rested her forehead against yours as she spoke.
“And do I?” “Every single day.”
As you left the bedroom together, Alexia threw another look towards you over her shoulder. “Oh, and for the record, if anyone asks you about football. The answer is always Barca.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at her words. “Noted. You’re going to owe me for this.” “Dinner with the Putellas clan is a small price to pay. Trust me.”
The apartment door clicked shut behind you, and you’re met with the cold afternoon air on a wintery Saturday in Barcelona. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around your figure, already cursing yourself for having dressed too lightly for the occasion. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the quiet neighbourhood, the orange-yellow hues bouncing off the cobblestone pavement beneath your feet. You despised Winter. Despised the cold, despised the dark mornings and dark evenings.
Alexia’s car brought you back to your senses. It’s familiar, and the way Alexia’s perfume lingers and mixes with the faint sense of leather calmed you down. The soft hum of the engine the only sound between the two of you. You couldn’t bear the silence any longer though, as if it was weighing you down with each passing minute.
“Okay, let’s set some expectations. What’s the worst thing your family could say or ask tonight?” Alexia glanced over at you, an amused smile on your face as she expertly manoeuvred the steering wheel one-handed. “Worst thing? Hmm… Mami might ask if you know how to make paella. She likes to test people on their cooking knowledge.” You scoffed nervously at her words. “Great. Let me just Google how not to butcher a classic Spanish dish before we get there.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you. “Relax. You could burn your toast and they’d still like you.” You didn’t respond at that, and that led to your girlfriend briefly squeezing your knee, and then resting her hand on your thigh. “I’m serious. You don’t have to impress anyone. Just… be yourself.” You looked out the window, looking at the passing cars. “I wish I had your confidence.” “You don’t need that. You have mine.”
The roads were quiet for the time of day, but there’s a faint hum of life outside. The city felt alive but not overwhelming. Alexia’s playlist waltzed through the background, the songs that remind you of your lover calming your senses once again. You noticed the way she taps her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, her relaxed demeanor helping you stay calm. You didn’t want to mess this up. It had been a while since Alexia had seen her family, properly, for more than a couple short moments after a game. Somehow, you hadn’t met them yet. The games you went to, they couldn’t come and vice versa. It was Alexia’s mum that insisted she brought you to the family dinner, something that on its own should’ve calmed your nerves, but the rational part of your brain was completely at the mercy of the overwhelming feeling of self-doubt.
The journey didn’t take as long as expected, traffic not nearly as bad as either of you had foreseen. Alexia’s hand was tracing soft, reassuring patterns on your thigh and your hand was on top of hers, steadling grounding yourself with her touch. Before you knew it, Alexia pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. “Oh God, I didn’t realize we were here already.” Alexia chuckled, but stayed silent for a moment. She let you come to your senses, knowing you were going to be fine, but just needed a moment to ground yourself. Your eyes searched the area, and you were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cars that were all around the house. “Baby, how many people are here tonight?” Alexia winced at that, having forgotten to mention that it was never only close family when the Putellas’s came together. She tried to remain casual, though. “Eh, maybe like 20 people? Just a small group. It’ll be okay, amor.” You mumbled something incoherently under your breath and Alexia wished it wasn’t you cursing her out, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as you opened your door and stepped outside.
“So, any final words?” You questioned, your hand resting on the doorbell, not quite ready to ring yet. “Smile. Be yourself. Don’t let mami overwhelm you with food.” You cocked your eyebrows at her. “Mhm, that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail at one of those things?” Alexia pressed a kiss against your temple, mumbling her next words against your hair. “Then you’d still look cute failing.” You rolled your eyes. “Such a charmer, Alexia. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” “Completely. But seriously, you’ve got this.” Your girlfriend took your hand in hers for a second and gave a reassuring squeeze, before she eventually rang the doorbell.
Eli’s face lit up inexplicably wide at the sight of her daughter. “Mi niña, look at you, you’re finally here.” She pulled Alexia into a tight hug first, and by Alexia’s body language, you could tell that she needed this. She practically smothered her daughter with affection, but Alexia quickly became second best the moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softening into one of pure warmth. “And you must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about!” Before you could even fully process her words, she’s wrapping you in a firm, welcoming embrace. The scent of her lavender perfume and something faintly sweet invaded your senses, and it immediately struck you as a homely feeling. Her hug lingered just long enough to feel sincere, and when she pulled back, her hands settled gently on your shoulders.
“Come in, come in! Don’t just stand out here in the cold. I’ve been so excited to meet you." Alexia watched the interaction with a fond smile, her gaze flickering between you and her mum as you stepped into the warmth of the house. It felt almost surreal. The cozy hum of voices from the living room, the inviting smell of food wafting from the kitchen. You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this; this immediate sense of belonging. You couldn’t help but glance at Alexia, a smile creeping onto your face despite your earlier nerves. She noticed, her own smile widening in response.
But as Eli ushered you both further inside, you caught a fleeting glance exchanged between Alexia and her mum. It’s quick, almost unnoticeable, but something about it tugged at the edge of your thoughts. Maybe it was the slight furrow in Eli’s brow that smoothed out too quickly, or the way Alexia’s smile dimmed just a fraction before she responded. It passed before you could think too much of it, overshadowed by Eli’s bright chatter as she guided you toward the living room. But the seed of doubt was planted, small but persistent.
The living room buzzed with warmth and chatter as Eli guided you inside. The people gathered are lively, her relatives talking over one another, kids darting around in a chaotic blur, and a general air of familiarity you can almost taste. “Come, let me introduce you,” Eli said with a bright smile, tugging you further into the room. Alexia stayed close, her hand lightly resting at your lower back, an anchor as you’re passed from one family member to the next.
First, it’s Alexia’s aunt. A lively woman with curly hair and a booming laugh, pulled you into a tight hug as though she’s known you for years. “Oh, so this is her,” she said knowingly, nudging Alexia with a grin. “You didn’t tell me how gorgeous she is.” “Tía” Alexia mumbled, her ears turning pink, but the playful reprimand only made her aunt laugh harder. “And polite, too, I bet,” the aunt added, turning to you. “Please, call me Tía Marta. Now tell me, is she as much of a neat freak at home as she was when she was a kid? She used to get mad if I folded a towel the ‘wrong way.’” Alexia groaned behind you, but you laughed, feeling a little more at ease.
Up next is Alexia’s grandmother. She was smaller than you expected, her frame delicate but her spirit vibrant. She took your hands in hers, her skin soft and warm, and looked up at you with kind, twinkling eyes. “Eres preciosa, niña,” she said softly, her voice comforting. You managed a thank you in your best Spanish, and she beamed with pride. “Her Spanish is good!” she told Alexia in Catalan, patting your hand. “Abuela,” Alexia interjected gently, translating for you with a smile. “She says you’re beautiful.” “Well, she’s beautiful too,” you responded shyly, feeling your cheeks warm under the older woman’s approving gaze.
Then suddenly, a young cousin, the boy probably no older than six, bolted toward Alexia the second he walked in, arms wide and squealing her name. Alexia catched him mid-run, spinning him around effortlessly. It struck a chord somewhere inside of you, but you weren’t ready to develop the thought yet that was simmering at the back of your mind. “Who’s this?” the little boy asked once he’s settled in Alexia’s arms, pointing at you.
“This is my... friend,” Alexia said carefully, glancing at you with a flicker of hesitation. The little boy looked at you curiously before deciding, “She’s pretty. Do you like Spiderman?” Caught off guard, you stammered, “Uh, yes? I think he’s cool.” “Good,” the cousin declared, nodding seriously. “Because I don’t like boring people.” You shared a laugh with Alexia, who shook her head fondly.
At one point a couple minutes later, an uncle, already stationed near the appetizers, offered you a small plate. “Try this,” he said, holding up a slice of jamón ibérico. “This is the best you’ll ever taste.” You accepted it, and the flavor immediately melted on your tongue. “Wow,” you exhale, impressed. He grinned, nodding approvingly. “I told you. Good taste,” he said, pointing at you before winking at Alexia. “This one’s a keeper, eh?” Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “She hasn’t even had the croquetas yet.” “Croquetas?” you asked, curious. “Just wait,” Alexia replied, her smirk confident.
Eli stole you away then, leading you with her to the sofa. “She talks about you, you know,” she said quietly, handing you a glass of wine. You blinked in surprise. “She does?” “Every time we talk,” she said with a smile, her eyes soft as they glanced toward Alexia. “You make her happy.” Your heart swelled, and you glanced at your girlfriend across the room, who was talking to her cousin again. She must’ve felt your eyes on her because she looked back, offering a small smile that’s just for you.
But then, there was a change in the air. It was not outright hostility, not even close. But as the introductions continued– they seemed endless, there was a distinct feeling in the back of your mind that you couldn’t ignore. A couple of the older relatives asked pointed questions about your work. Questions that felt almost like challenges, though they were wrapped in polite tones. “So, what do you do exactly? Must be quite demanding, no?” You answered as best as you can, without wanting to seem too affected by the unpleasant tone you’re being spoken to. 
As you were chatting with another of Alexia’s cousins, one of her aunts– not the one that welcomed you so warmly earlier, interrupted the conversation with a comment that caught you off guard. “Well, I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks dating a footballer is all glamour and fame. It’s hard work, you know.” The words are said with a faint smile, her tone almost teasing. Almost. But there’s something about the way her eyes lingered on you, as though she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. “Oh no, I wouldn’t think that at all.” You stammered, trying to laugh it off. Before you could say more, Alexia stepped in smoothly. It’s like she felt the discomfort oozing off you through the room, and she was by your side in a mere couple seconds to defuse the situation. “She’s not one of those people. Trust me.” Her aunt gave a small nod, her smile tight as she moved on to another conversation.
The exchange left you rattled, though you’re not entirely sure why. It wasn’t outright rude, but it felt like a test, one you’re not certain you passed. As the evening went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were under a microscope. Most of the family was kind and welcoming, but a few interactions left a sour taste, small enough to make you doubt whether you’re overthinking it or not.
Your mind drifted back to the glance Alexia exchanged with her mom earlier. Was it about you? Were they worried about bringing you into this tightly-knit family dynamic? You glanced at Alexia, who was across the room now, laughing with her sister. She looked completely at ease, as though she belonged in this moment in a way you could never hope to. The doubt crept in again, insidious and unwelcome. Did you really fit into her world?
The room was alive with conversation and laughter, but your thoughts felt far too loud. You were perched at the edge of the couch, smiling politely as Eli chatted animatedly with a group of relatives nearby. Alexia caught your eye from across the room, her easy smile fading when she saw the tension in your shoulders. Excusing herself from the conversation she’s in, she made her way over to you, her movements casual so as not to draw attention. She sat next to you, her hand comfortingly placed on the small of your back. “Hey, you okay?” You take a moment, hesitating on what to tell her, because the last thing you’d want is to be a burden. “Yeah, just a bit… overwhelmed”, you eventually settled on. Her hand softly brushed against your knee and it brought you a sense of comfort. “They already love you, you know.” Her words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself believe them. You nod, offering her a small smile. Thanks. I think I just need a minute to adjust.” Your girlfriend squeezed your knee and then stood up, moving back across the room to where she was before she came over to you. 
You started to relax again, letting the hum of conversations wash over you, but then you heard it; a hushed voice from somewhere nearby, just loud enough to catch your ear. “She seems nice, but do you think she’s really with Alexia for the right reasons? I mean, it must be intimidating, dating someone like her. Maybe she just likes the idea of it.” The words hit like a gut punch. You glanced around, trying to place the speaker, and your stomach sank when you saw it’s the same cousin who’d been teasing earlier. She was speaking to another relative, who nodded slightly but didn’t add anything to the comment.
“Well, she does seem a bit… out of her depth. But Alexia must see something in her.” “Yeah, but for how long? I mean, Alexia needs someone who can handle all of this. The attention, the traveling, the pressure. Do you think she’s that kind of person?”
Your pulse quickened and your fingers tightened around your glass. It felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Why were they even talking about this? Your stomach sank further with each word. You fought the urge to stand up and defend yourself, although you weren’t quite sure you’d know what to say if you did. Were you really out of your depth?
You glanced back toward Alexia, wishing she’d somehow heard the exchange, wishing you could share the burden of what had just been said. But even if she had been closer, would you have had the courage to repeat the words? The thought of telling her felt unbearable. What if she agreed, even a little? What if, instead of reassuring you, she hesitated? You tell yourself off, firmly. It was Alexia that brought you here, Alexia that wanted you here. She wouldn’t hesitate. But before you can dwell on what you heard too much, dinner is being served and you’re all called to the living room.
The dining room was warm and inviting, with a large wooden table set for everyone. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and overlapping conversations. Alexia was seated beside you, and her presence helped calm your nerves, even though the earlier comments still lingered in your mind. You tried to focus on the moment, enjoy the evening with Alexia’s family and forget about what you overheard earlier
.“So, tell us more about yourself. Alexia mentioned you work on some pretty impressive projects.” It was Eli’s voice that pulled you out of your thoughts. You were glad that everyone seemed to be in their own conversations, only a couple relatives really listening in to what you were going to answer.
“Oh, it’s nothing too special. I mostly enjoy being behind the scenes, making sure everything runs smoothly.” You worry, overthinking every word as if the people around you would be nitpicking every single thing that you said.
“Well, Alexia couldn’t stop talking about how talented you are. She doesn’t say that about just anyone, you know.” Her words made you feel a little more at ease, but the shadow of doubt from earlier lingered.
Dinner went smoothly for the rest. Conversation flowed easily between a couple of you, the steadying presence of your girlfriend aside you doing just enough to ground you. During a lighter moment, someone shared a funny story about Alexia’s childhood.
“Did you know Alexia used to practice free kicks in the yard until she knocked over the flower pots? I think my parents banned football from the garden for a year!” The family laughs, and Alexia playfully rolls her eyes, leaning in closer to you. “Don’t believe everything they tell you.”
At some point, a little further down the evening, Alexia leans in quietly, her hand brushing against yours under the table. “You okay? You’ve been a bit quiet.” she asks softly. You force a smile, one you know she won’t believe, but it’s the best you could muster up. “I’m fine. Just taking everything in.” She didn’t push, but her eyes lingered, and you knew she was onto you. But you appreciated her for not pushing.
As the meal ends and people begin to move around, Alexia finds a quiet moment with you, sensing your unease. “You’ve been amazing tonight, you know? I can see how much they like you.” You found yourself in a quiet corner in the kitchen, and you allowed yourself to circle your arms around her neck, Alexia’s resting around your waist. “You think so? It’s just… a lot to take in.” Alexia nodded, briefly brushing her lips against your forehead. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you’re doing great. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you could handle it.”
-
The silence in the car was heavy, but Alexia didn't push. She glanced at you every now and then, her brows knitting together in quiet concern at the expression on your face. She decided she could do no wrong by testing the waters. “You were amazing tonight,” she said softly. You nodded with a small smile, but it was forced. You continued staring out the window, replaying the events from the night over and over again, especially the words from one of Alexia’s aunts kept on ringing in the back of your mind.
The car ride felt uneasy. It wasn’t usual for you both to be so quiet, and it almost felt awkward. You knew you weren’t doing the right thing by not telling your girlfriend what was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You felt as if, if you would recite the words that were spoken by one of her relatives, that she’d agree. That she’d realize that they were right, that you’re out of your depth and not made for someone with a schedule like hers. So you stayed silent. As much as it hurt you to ignore Alexia’s silent advances throughout the drive, whether that be a hand on your knee or a soft touch on your thigh, you didn’t dare speak up. Not if that meant you would put your relationship at risk.
When Alexia pulled into the driveway of your apartment block, you could feel the hesitation in her movements. You unbuckled your seatbelt and she did the same, but before you could reach the door handle, you felt her hand on your wrist. “Amor, wait…,” she spoke softly. You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before leaning back against the car seat. “You did great tonight. I promise. It was everything I hoped for. I’m so glad you finally met my family and they love you. Te lo prometo.” You gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but you couldn’t help but melt in the kiss that followed. You really shouldn’t have, should’ve held your walls up, because you knew you were in for a rough night as soon as your girlfriend left. But when she kissed you with that much fervour, pouring so many unspoken words in it, you couldn’t help but be at her mercy. “Call me tomorrow?” You nodded, but you weren’t sure you would. Stepping out of her car felt like floodgates opening. The emotions hit you like a brick: insecurity, shame, and the growing belief that this relationship was a mistake.
-
You ignored Alexia’s calls the following day. You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when you felt like every new word you spoke to her would bring her closer to realizing that you weren’t enough for her. Her texts start off light, reassuring. But when she realizes that you’re not going to reply, they come with an urge.
From: Ale I hope you’re feeling better today, amor. Let me know when you’re free?
From: Ale Hey, I’m getting worried. Are you okay?
From: Ale Please talk to me. Did something happen?
You read them but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Each message felt like a dagger, reminding you of what you’re running from.
As the day dragged on, the insecurities became louder. What if you’re just another thing for her to take care of? You’re nothing compared to the people she’s surrounded with on a day-to-day basis. Her teammates, her family, they’re all… extraordinary. Alexia deserves someone who fits into her world effortlessly.  Not someone who feels like they’re constantly falling short.
You started analyzing every moment with Alexia, wondering if you’ve been blind to signs that this was doomed from the start. You were not made for this world. Not made for her. So you did the thing that you thought was best for you, best for her, you decided not to reply to anything she sent you. She’d get over it, she had so many other things on her mind that she probably wouldn’t even think twice. You’d get over it too, eventually. At some point. Probably. Maybe.
But God, were you wrong. On the other side of Barcelona, your girlfriend was miserable. She had sensed something was off since the evening before, but she didn’t want to pry, knowing that usually didn’t help her case in trying to get anything out of you. But now, as the afternoon bled into evening and she still hadn’t heard from you, prying was the only thing she wished she did. As far as she knew, things had gone quite well with her family. There wasn’t anything that she could remember that would warrant such a response from you, so she felt like her hands were tied in what to do.
She wanted nothing more than things to work out with you. She hadn’t felt like she felt about you in ages. You got her, you understood her, and she was so incredibly grateful for you. You were like a breath of fresh air in her clouded, busy life. So when she didn’t hear from you for a day, Alexia curled up into herself. She was worried, insecure, in her head and making up all kinds of scenarios that were way too obscure, but she couldn’t help thinking them anyway. What if you didn’t want her anymore after meeting her family? Was it not what you expected? Did someone tell you something about her that struck a wrong chord?
Despite the overwhelming thoughts that clouded her mind, Alexia manages to get out of her sofa that evening and try a different approach to get you back.
-
It’s well past 9pm when you receive a voicemail from Alexia, and you can’t help but listen to it. The prospect of hearing her voice was too good to turn down.
“Hola, mi vida. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but please talk to me. We’re a team, you know? You and I. Just the two of us. Let me in and we’ll work out what’s on your mind. And, check your front door for me. Te amo. So much.”
You hadn’t realized tears had welled up in your eyes at the sound of her voice, until one was rolling over your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, not ready to be vulnerable about this yet. Not when she was being so sweet. You mustered up the courage to get out of bed, walking the way up to the front door of your apartment. You checked the peephole, but nobody was there. You opened the door and spotted a bright bouquet of red and white roses on the ground, accompanied with a little envelope. Your first thought was about how Alexia had gotten into your building, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that right now. You picked up the flowers and smelled them, a faint hint of her perfume mixing with the fresh scent of the roses. It hit you hard then, another few tears escaping your eyes.
The letter that came with, was even sweeter. It wasn’t much, not a love letter by any means, but just a small couple reminders of how much she loved you. That she was proud of you. That she couldn’t wait to see you again and hear your voice. It only felt more guilt rise up in you. How could you treat this woman, who clearly loved you to the moon and back, so poorly? But the guilt wasn’t enough to overshadow the insecurities. At least, not yet. 
-
The office was dimly lit, the desk cluttered with blueprints, pencils, and a cold coffee cup that you’re not sure you even took a sip from. When things got rough, work is where you turned to in life. Work didn’t make you insecure. Work didn’t make you doubt yourself. It was always there. Steady. A pillar of strength that would never disappoint you. You weren’t the only one who knew that, though. As long as it took you to open up about your professional life to a certain blonde, she now knew everything about the ins and outs of your life as an interior architect. She too, knew that this was where you retreated when things weren’t going your way. To experience some sort of stability. To make you feel like even though everything else around you was crumbling, you still had this. The hum of the building and the outside traffic was the only sound until the door swung open abruptly, startling you.
Alexia walked in, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She looked out of place here, her casual sweater and jeans standing stark against the sterile, professional backdrop. She didn’t speak right away, just stood there, her gaze fixed on you. The silence felt suffocating. You haven’t turned around yet, but the mere presence of the person gave away who it was.
“I knew you’d be here,” she started with. “You shouldn’t have come.” You had turned around on your seat now, but were still avoiding her gaze. As much as you wanted to look at her, take her in, because you missed her, missed her more than you could put into words, you didn’t. Because then it would take approximately 3 seconds for you to give up the facade that you’d been putting on, and you weren’t ready for that. Not when you weren’t good enough for her. She stepped closer. “What else was I supposed to do, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for almost 2 days. I’ve been losing my mind wondering what I did wrong.”
There was a sense of hostility in her voice, and you didn’t like it. But, you guess you deserved it. You finally met her gaze then, and if it weren’t for the bags underneath her eyes and the concerned look on her face, you really would’ve thought she was angry at you. You stood up from your desk, taking a couple tentative steps toward her and crossing your arms over your chest. “You didn’t do anything, Alexia. This is on me.” You knew it was weak, and not good enough. But you couldn’t give her much more than that. “That’s not good enough. I deserve more than silence, don’t you think?”
Your throat is tightening, but you try your best not to let it sound in your voice. “I needed time to think.” “Time to think about what, y/n? If you even want to be with me?” You frowned then, looking up at her. You didn’t know it had cut so deep with her. It’d only been a day and a half, and you hadn't given her any clues on what this could be about, so for her to have made this assumption took you aback. It’s not what you wanted, or… maybe it was? It was best for the both of you, either way.
You decided at that moment it was best for you to open up, to relieve some of the tension for the woman standing in front of you. “I’m not good for you, Alexia. Can’t you see that? Your cousin, your family, they see it. And they’re right.” The Spaniard’s face hardens at that, her brows knitting together. ““I don’t belong in your world. I don’t know how to fit into it, and honestly, I don’t think I ever will. You deserve someone who can stand next to you without feeling like they’re constantly falling short.”
Alexia closes the distance between you, and you can feel her breath against your face as she speaks. “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You think I care what anyone else thinks? My family? My cousin? Do you think I’d be here right now, chasing after you, if I thought you weren’t good enough for me?” You interrupt her, but it’s a futile attempt. “No, you don’t understand-” “You don’t understand! I chose you! I want you! Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
It’s like someone opened up a can of bottled feelings within Alexia. You’d voiced it many times to her that you thought you weren’t good enough for her, and each time she’d patiently coaxed you back to her, melting your insecurities away with whispered promises and lingering kisses. What you didn’t know is that it had also taken an effect on her. She just wanted you to believe her, to be happy with her, to stop thinking that you weren’t what she wanted or deserved.
“Because I’m scared, Alexia! I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize they were right. That I’m just this… nobody who got lucky. That I’ll never be enough for you.” Alexia’s expression softens slightly, but her frustration remains. She runs a hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, her voice quieter but still firm. ““You’re enough for me. You’re more than enough. But I can’t keep fighting to convince you of that if you’re not willing to believe it yourself.”
The words hit you like a dagger. Of all the ways the conversation could go, you hadn’t expected that. And it only further confirmed your thoughts. Alexia was realizing that this wasn’t what she wanted. “Maybe I’m doing this for you, Alexia. Maybe you’ll thank me someday.” Alexia’s voice was sharp as she replied. “Don’t you dare make this decision for me.” You flinch, but remain silent.
She steps back then, running her hands across her face. “I don’t know what else to say to you right now.” Her eyes linger on your figure a little longer, but then she’s gone. The sound of the door falling shut feels deafening, and you finally let the tears flow that you’d been holding in throughout the conversation. Argument? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.
As she storms out of the studio, the cool night air hits her like a wall. Her chest feels tight, and her hands tremble slightly as she fumbles to unlock her car. She hesitates for a moment, gripping the door handle, debating whether to turn back. But the ache in her heart makes it hard to think clearly, and she sinks into the driver’s seat, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.
She didn’t know how it could’ve escalated this quick. For her, the meeting with her family went well. Of course, there was the odd comment, but she didn’t think it was major enough to cause an upset like this. It seemed like, in one day, you’d built a wall so high that she couldn’t reach you anymore.
She bites her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but a few slip out anyway. She feels a mix of anger, heartbreak and guilt, but above all that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be feeling. She drives around aimlessly, not ready to drive home. Before long, Alexia realizes that she didn’t handle the argument in the right way. Instead of calming you down, she yelled, too lost in trying to make you see what she sees. By the time she finally gets home, she’s emotionally drained. She sits at her kitchen table, the undeniable sting from the unanswered calls and texts still there. Alexia had never felt this way about anyone, ever before in her life. And she wasn’t going to let you walk away because of some stupid comment or your own doubts. You were hers, and she was going to remind you of that even if it took everything she had.
Alexia starts her plan to get you back the next day. She comes to terms that barging into the studio again wouldn’t make it better, so she starts with something simple. She drives to your place and slides a little handwritten note under the door, a small one that says, “I love you. No matter what they say, no matter what you think. You are everything to me. Please, let me prove it. A.” She also sends flowers to your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a little note attached to it, “You’re the only one I see.” She’s patient, very patient, but when she hasn’t heard anything from you by the evening, she starts pacing around her apartment.
She had done quite well at keeping busy throughout the day. After quickly dropping off the note, she went to training and was able to keep her mind off the situation for a couple hours. But when she came home, deep in the afternoon, and she couldn’t even get her post-training nap in because she was thinking about you, she knew she wasn’t gonna get anywhere.
Her fingers hover over your contact, but the prospect of rejection makes her hesitate. She lingers, but eventually decides it’s best not to. She was gonna let you come to her. And you did. The next morning, somehow you’d remembered that today was a day off for Alexia. She was sat at the kitchen table, sipping on her daily cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. The doorbell startled her, not really expecting anyone at this time of day, especially not when she was still wearing her pajamas. But when she looks through the peephole, noticing your figure on the other side of the door, her heart skips a beat. She scrambles to unlock the door and open it for you, but when her eyes land on you it feels like all is right in the world. She has to refrain herself from throwing her into your arms, knowing that wouldn’t be the right thing to do right now. She gives you a small smile, one you return, and the warmth that spreads through her chest at the little gesture is unimaginable. She steps aside then, letting you inside of her apartment.
It doesn’t take long for Alexia to crack. She makes you a coffee and joins you on the sofa, and you had planned to start the conversation, but she didn’t let you. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice cracking slightly. “For yelling, for walking out, for everything. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, nodding, fiddling with your hands. “I… I wasn’t trying to push you away, Alexia. I just-” “You’re scared,” she interrupts, and a relief washes over you at the realization that she understands your feelings. “And I get that. But, please, I need you to talk to me, not shut me out.”
There’s a couple moments of silence, and you readjust your position on the couch, your knees now flush to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It was the only way to stop yourself from curling into her. You wouldn’t get to say what you wanted if you did. “It’s not just fear,” you admit. “It’s everything. What your cousin said, it wasn’t just about me. It was about us. Like I don’t belong in your world. Like- Like I’m just… some fling that you’ll outgrow.”
Alexia’s face hardens, jaw tightening and she reaches a hand out, but quickly retreats. “Don’t let them get to you, por favor. She doesn’t know anything about us, about you.” “But what if she’s right?” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not enough? For you, for your family, for-” Alexia does follow through with her hand then, placing it on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “Stop.” Her voice is firm but not harsh, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You are everything.” Your eyes meet hers, and you’re looking for anything that gives away she’s not speaking the truth. That she doesn’t mean this, that she’s just saying this out of pity. But you can’t find it. The only thing you find is a couple unshed tears, showing just how much emotion she’s pouring into this moment. “Do you know how much I love you? How much I admire you? Your kindness, strength, the way you light up any room without even trying. You’re the only one I want.” You go to speak up, but she lifts her hand in protest.
“What someone else thinks, whether it’s my family, my friends or anyone, doesn’t matter to me. You matter. You make me happy, and that’s all I care about. And if my cousin, or anyone else has a problem with that, they’ll have to say that to my face. And not behind your or my back.” Alexia straightens slightly, retreating her hand from your knee and placing them in her lap. “But I know I didn’t handle this right, and I’m sorry for that too,” she says earnestly. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was frustrated because I hate seeing you doubt yourself, especially when you’re so good to me, so good for me. I want to be better for you, better for us. But you need to let me in.”
You swallow hard, her words from the last couple minutes sinking in. You couldn’t believe how you deserved the woman sitting in front of you right now. So good, so honest, and all she wanted was you. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you, or… seem weak, I guess.” Alexia shakes her head, her gaze soft. “You’re not weak. And you’re never going to hurt me by telling me how you feel. We’re a team, remember? On the same side, mi amor.” The pet name sends a wave of warmth through you that you only now realize you missed terribly. “Besides,” she adds, her tone lighter now, “if our relationship has had to endure all the teasing from my teammates and the comments from fans, I’m sure we can handle a little communication hiccup.”
You laugh softly, and Alexia grins, relief washing over her. “There it is,” she says, her thumb brushing a tear off your cheek that you didn’t even know was there. “There’s my girl.” You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest lifting ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, too. For shutting you out. I’ll try to do better.” Alexia leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together.”
As the tension melts away, Alexia pulls you up, wrapping her arms tightly around you. The warmth of her embrace makes the world outside. She tilts her head to rest against yours, her voice soft as she speaks. “You’re never allowed to disappear like that again,” Alexia murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple. “Do you know how much I missed you? Two days felt like two years.” You nestle further into her, your arms circling her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed space to think. But it wasn’t worth it. Being without you felt awful. I just kept convincing myself that you were better off without me and vice versa, but I know that’s not true.”
Alexia pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb brushes gently over your cheek as she smiles, her expression soft. “You don’t have to run away to think, cariño. Just come to me, and we’ll figure it out together. Always.”
The weight of the past days begins to fade away as Alexia leans down and brushes her lips lightly against your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek. Each kiss feels like a promise, her way to say that everything’s going to be okay. “Stop,” you say, giggling softly, though you don’t actually want her to stop. “You’re making it impossible to stay mad at myself.” “Good,” Alexia says with a smirk, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. “Because I’m not done making it up to you yet.”
She shifts, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into her lap. You hesitate for a moment, but her arms tighten around your waist, grounding you. “This okay?” she asks softly, her lips brushing your ear. You nod, melting into her touch. “More than okay.” Her hands trail up and down your back in soothing strokes as you rest your head on her shoulder. The two of you sit like that for a while, in silence, before you take a nap together on the couch. As you lay in her arms, you know that that’s where you’re supposed to be. And you’re gonna battle every single one of your insecurities that tells you differently.
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valentine-cafe · 3 days ago
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Happy 1 year anniversary! I'm so happy to have been able to witness this blog continue to grow. Keep up the good work!
As for my order, can I get an affogato please?
Inexperienced!reader seeing Vespasiano at a bar and deciding to shoot his shot only to be a nervous wreck the entire time while trying to flirt with him. Vespasiano finding all this adorable and taking him home and teaching reader how to fuck him properly! (with reader just immediately cumming the second he's able to stick his dick into Vesp) 👏
˖⁺. ﹙ vampire lieutenant dilf  x inexperienced top sub male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁
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. . . there you go. fuck look at you, doing so good !! 🍒 :  vampiric ˖ lieutenant ˖ dilf character﹙ verse 781 vespsiano. ﹚
you've always wondered what it would be like inside of him, you didn't think he'd be the one to teach you how to fuck him. | cw: blowjob, handjob, anal, inexperienced male reader, lots of humping <3
𖹭. ps : thank you so much !! we hope this is to your liking!
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“Yeah?”
Heat warms your face with the low rumble to your ear. When did his hand get on your thigh? The calloused thumb strokes along your skin spark your head into dizzy episodes. It’s the alcohol, you convince yourself. But something tells you the golden hue of bourbon isn’t what you’re drowning in — but emerald eyes lightly creased at the corners.
“Well I . . .” you hope that the throat clear helps. “You know y-you’re. . . one to talk - with that - uhm -” seems not.
Vespasiano, that’s his name. The patron you’d heard all the bartenders giggling about time and time again. He came in, ordered his old fashion or neat whiskey, sat for a bit. Smoked his cigarette, then left. You’d seen him a few times. Today you summoned all your non-existing confidence to shoot your short.
It’s going as well as a virgin with a hooker.
Or is it? His chuckle shoots the heat on your face to your crotch. The stir against your pants spins your head further. When did your pants get so tight?
Tight. You wonder how tight he is. But could you even manage fucking him? He didn’t look like the switch type — let alone the switch. The thrum of your dick against black fabric begged for such. A chance, just one chance.
Your nerves, however, tell another story. “I uh - j-just . . . forget I - said - a-anything haha -” the choppy laugh interrupts halfway. The floor creaks with skidded wood and the hand on your thigh doubles over to the other. The bar counter welcomes your back. As though to wingman you for the towering shadow he casts over you. That grin on his lips that makes you want to buck against him here and now.
Damn everyone else. If you could have him over this counter here and now. . .
The trail of a finger down your throat sends your thoughts derailed. All you can do is gulp. Flit your eyes up to his amused ones that peer at the bobbing of your Adam’s apple. “Don’t chicken out on me now. Don’t think your pants down there would appreciate’t.”
You needn’t glance down. Your tent strains proudly against his inner thigh. The warmth hitches your breath. By some grace, you manage to breathe out a final - “But - aren’t you still drinking?”
Save your poor heart. It wasn’t ready for him to lean over with gazes locked and hand steady. Snatch his glass and gulp the bitter liquid down like honey. Eyes on yours the entire time. Shadowed by dark strands drooped over.
Thud to the wood. The feel of his strong arm round your waist is deadly. So is his whisper. Those small fangs that peek through his grin.
“Now ‘m not.”
He’s not a bottom, not a switch either. And yet here is. On his back, shirt gone, pants discarded. To say you were surprised at his understanding was an understatement.
“Thaat’s it. . . keep going,” he groans with his cock finding home in your hand. The perfect sleeve as it pumps slowly, shakily down his length. His face might send you into a spur right now. Blissed out. You’d splatter immediately. But for the life of you, your gaze refuses to release his dick.
To say he’s big is an insult. You’re lucky it’s just his ass you’ll have today. The veiny flesh and twitches with suds of precum salivates your mouth. It takes every fibre to not dive down and choke on his dick all over again. His shaky groans aren’t making it any easier.
“Haven’t done this before either.” He’s so assuring. The large hand strokes along your face and his blissful smile almost has you humping on his leg. Desperate much?
“Been on receivin’, I mean - fuck.”
His words had some magic because your hand acted on fuel. Pumping along steadily to the thrum of his pulses. The rolls of his hips.
Next you catch his wet hole. Your throbbing borders painful as much as pleasurable. To sate the desire you swoop down and kiss around his thick tip. Shudder into his slit and stroke beneath his cockhead. His taste perfectly compliments the bitterness of alcohol. You’d get drunk on him any day.
But a hand to your hair snaps you from your swirl of need. With a gruff - “you gonna keep suckin’ me dry or?” oh, there’s that devilish chuckle again. Your insides flare in competition with your face that he grinds up into shamelessly. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty boy? ‘m waiting.”
Your kisses rain down on his muscular highs like apologies crossed with whines. “Nervous. . . I wanna make you feel good.” There you go humping mindlessly into the mattress again. Imagine his hips instead of the scratch of linen.
A warm, tender hand to the back of your neck leads you home to his lips. They overtake yours in a fire, a passion. One that surely is meant to pull more of your pathetic noises out. So you attempt to win back your pride by shoving your hands to his shoulders and forcing him back down.
“That’s it.” If you thought his groan made you dizzy then the squeeze of his hand around your dick as he reached forward crumbled you entirely. Like hot candle wax, you fall onto him with a melt and buck into his thigh.
The slick of previous lube steals your breath. So you return the favour with lathered kisses into his mouth. An exchange of tongue and teeth. All while he guides you steadily.
Excitement shoots through you at the feel of his rim. Straight from your tip and through your dick. Your hands brace on his sides and his squeeze at your hips. The kiss parts again. Strings of saliva the last evidence. Your hips buck. Your gut pleads for you to just push in. But a quick reminder of his own inexperience in this field steers your muscles to a halt.
Inexperienced? You’d never consider him such.
Not with the way he touches you. Certainly not with his words laced with teasing lilts He’d be the death of you. And you would so readily let him bury you. Just how you wish to bury within those warm walls.
“Now. . . easy does it.” He mumbles against kisses to your neck. Small assurances that swell and squeeze your heart. Your body moves on automation. Muscles robotically dancing to his rhythm as your tip glides along his hole. You’re so busy bothering your lower lip with your teeth that you fail to notice him doing the same. “Just. . . there. . . there - hah -”
Surely, this is a trap. The tightness of his heat encasing your cock inch - by agonising inch - is a sabotage in every degree of the word. One for your heart that leaps straight into your throat. You bob it down with gulps of saliva and swallowed gasps. It’d be too humiliating to -
“Let it out. . .”
“F-Fuck . . .”
It’s such a pathetic noise really. In comparison to his deep, rumbled groans and grunts — you feel like a whimpering kitten. How can you be anything but when he’s thrumming around your cock like that? When his heat makes you so dizzy that you have to droop your head to his scarred chest and press kisses all over his skin?
There’s no stopping your hips as they chase pleasure. Bucks meet his thighs and your hands flex around his sides. Searching for a leverage, a comfort, to cling to while he consumes your body whole. For a moment - you forget that you are the one inside of him.
“S-So good -”
“Yeah?”
The ragged breath finally steals your attention. The sight of him beneath you is enough to snap several chords in your tummy. With emerald eyes peered through fluttery half-lids. His brows itch to crease at the centre. There’s no missing the subtle flex of his fingers in the dark sheets. And that light blush scattered across his face? He’s the sight of heaven, splayed out on a bed of all things for crying out loud.
Every fibre in your body begs for you not to be a hero. His heat is not something you can manage. Stubbornly, still, you persist and press in further. Feel the tightness in your gut. The swell in your chest.
It happened so fast. White blinds your vision and takes over your movements. You’re needily bucking into his lube-slathered heat with tiny, pitiful humps. Lips parted, eyes fluttered. The shudder that tears through your body shoves you down onto him again and you moan out against his collarbone.
Heat fizzles into realisation. But before you can so much as apologise, that tender feeling finds the small of your back once more. You feel his smile against your temple; and his hips rolling into yours as though you didn’t just bust already.
“That good huh?” The snicker makes you flush. For the life of you, you cannot bother with embarrassment or pleasantries. All you can do is stutter your cock forward in shallow, aimless thrusst.
“A-Ah - ah - m-m sorry. . . mngh. . . just mngh - s’good.”
“Keep going. Steady. Make a - a - ah - a rhythm.”
Large palms flatten on your thighs. Then squeeze. Vespasiano steers your hips forward until you catch the hang of it. His lips motivate you with showers all over your neck and shoulders. You return it tenfold with bites and marks littered across his throat and chest.
Pleasure swells through your head. Strikes down your spine. The air leaves you in bouts you can barely keep up with. Not that you care. Not that it matters. Who needs air when pleasure flies you to cloud nine?
“D-Does - does it feel - feel good?” Your eyes search his scrunched up face for an answer. Your impatience drops a hand to his cock, and you messily stroke along the trails of wetness leaked from his pulsating tip. An action he clearly was not anticipating with the way his back arched and moans tumbled forth.
Not groans. Not grunts. Moans. You really are in heaven. To have a man of his experience, his age, his occupation and stature. Moan for you.
Your thrusts catch wind of the small ego boost. Fueled with pride you angle, like he’s taught you, and buck ferally into different spots. Searching for that one - just that one -
“A-Ah fuck-!”
There.
“Answer me. . . Please,” the whine borders all sorts of needy and pathetic. Your lips are wet on his throat as you suckle down on his adam’s apple and press your skin together. Consume his heat for your own. “T-Tell me you feel good. That I’m - making - hngh.”
“Feels - good.” he groans. You don’t expect the hand that claps down on your thigh. Only the grin that he shoots up at you.
“But go faster. Yeah - ngh - th-thas’ ittt. . .”
What more can you do but drive yourself to madness with your messy thrusts? You’ll keep humping away at his tight hole. Shower him in kisses, bites, gropes - what have you. Sure you might cum more times as you. But as long as you both get your fill — who cares about inexperience?
Just gives him more time to teach more. More time for you to fuck him.
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russo-woso · 3 days ago
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Familiarity || Lia Wälti x reader
Request | Masterlist
Summary Lia takes you to Switzerland for Christmas and there’s a sense of home and familiarity when you’re there
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“I’m excited.” You reveal to Lia as you board off the plane.
Amongst all the nerves of meeting Lia’s family for the first time, there was a sense of excitement and belonging.
For Christmas this year, you and Lia decided to go to Switzerland.
You’d been dating for a little over six months and decided it was the perfect time to meet lias family over in Switzerland.
It was also your first time in Switzerland which was a big thing for you.
Not only had lia felt it was time for you to meet her family, but she was also bringing you to her home country, something that was very precious to lia.
“I promise, they’ll love you. Just be yourself.” lia whispered, grabbing your hand as you walked off the plane. “Welcome to Switzerland, baby.”
“Pleasure to be here.” You replied, a massive smile covering your face.
Flakes of snow fell onto the ground as you left the airport, Lia flagging down a taxi.
Lia greeted him in German, thanking him for loading the suitcases into the boot before telling him the address to her parent’s house.
You squeezed Lia’s hand as you pulled up at the house.
“They’ll love you, baby.” Lia said, calming your nerves.
Lia’s family were all waiting outside, their faces full of excitement.
Lia got out the car first, hugging her parents.
“Y/N! It’s so good to finally meet you.” Lia’s mum said, bringing you in for a hug. “Thank you for making our Lia happy.”
“She makes me just as happy.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Lia’s dad smiled, hugging you.
Lia watched with hearts in her eyes at the interactions, her parents finally meeting the love of her life.
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly.
You got to know Lia’s parents a bit more before some of her extended family came over.
Lia’s mum was in the kitchen cooking so you headed through offering to help.
She took up your offer as you quickly swooped in and helped cut stuff up.
“Lia seems so happy, thank you.” She said, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s hard, knowing we’re here in Switzerland and she’s in England but when we saw how happy and safe she was with you, we didn’t feel worried anymore, so we, as Lia’s parents, can’t thank you enough.”
“She’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I love her so much and I’d protect her with my life. Thank you for letting me love her.” You told her, Lia’s mum bursting into tears as she hugged you.
“What’s going on here?” Lia asked, walking into the kitchen.
“You’ve found yourself a good one here, Lia.” Lia’s mum told her daughter, Lia just smiling at you as she nodded in agreement.
“I did.”
You decided to watch a movie before calling it a night and heading up to bed.
“See, I told you they’d love you.” Lia told you, your head resting on her chest as she stroked your hair.
“They’re so nice.”
“They are. So, tomorrow we’re going snowboarding in the mountains. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. My cousins taking her daughter for the first time and invited us to join.” Lia explained, your face lighting up at the idea.
“I’d love to, baby. I haven’t been snowboarding since I was little.”
“It’s settled. We’ll go snowboarding tomorrow.”
“Love, do you want me to teach you how—” Lia began as you reached the top of the mountain but before she could say another word, you were gone.
You zoomed down the mountain gracefully with ease, even jumping a slope.
Lia’s jaw dropped as she saw you, not knowing you were good at it.
“My dad used to take us to the mountains in Austria at least twice a year. I’m a pro.” You’d shrugged, finding Lia’s reaction amusing.
“Y/N, that was amazing.” Lia’s younger cousin said.
She was cute, only about five.
“Thanks, hun. You wanna go down with me? Here hold my hand. There we go, I’ve got you.” You said, holding her hands to balance her, the two of you going down a less steep slope.
Lia watched once more with hearts in her eyes as you played with the young girl.
Lia realised just how perfect you were.
Her family loved you, you were good with kids, just everything about you was perfect in Lia’s eyes.
“You really love her, don’t you?” Lia’s cousin questioned
“I’m going to marry her.”
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peachhcs · 2 days ago
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we need more macklin fics and fluff bc that one was actually so cute. i need more asap 🩷
sorority formal
still debating if i should make a macklin au to add to my samy + will verse (HAHA my own fanfic verse??) but here’s some more fluff between the lovely rookie and his gf from santa clara university :) — also cleaning out my inbox so that’s why i’ve posted four times in a row LOL
also if this is bad i’m so sorry. i lowkey awkwardly switch between 2nd person and 3rd person pov sometimes so apologies for that. otherwise, i’m really starting to like writing about mack 😌 (slight allusion to sex but there’s no sex actually described just kissing)
masterlist
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macklin had never been to a college sorority formal before, nor did he really understand what it was or what to expect, but he agreed to be your date nonetheless. plus, the look on your face was hard to say no to when you asked him two weeks ago.
the brunette was in his room trying to find the right suit to wear while will sat in the corner on his phone. he knew a little bit from when he was at boston, but he never found any interest in going to those frat and sorority parties, so the rookie was a bit in the dark when it came to this stuff.
will wasn’t much help either.
“i dunno man. i’ve never been to a sorority formal before. i assume it’s the same as any other formal? i’ve been to samy’s soccer banquet,” will shrugged, watching his friend try on his third suit.
“y/n said to just wear something neutral. her dress is pink i think,” macklin explained as he examined the dark navy suit in the mirror.
“i think that looks fine. navy and pink go well?” will nodded.
“i’m kind of nervous. is that bad? i don’t really know what to expect,” obviously, he didn’t want to make y/n look like a fool at her own sorority, so the boy’s nerves were at an all time high at the moment. what if he did something stupid?
“samy texted me back and she said it’s like prom but for college. there will be food and drinks and then you dance if you want. some sororities will do speeches or superlatives,” will read off the text his girlfriend just sent him.
“oh, okay. that’s not too bad then. i’ll be fine,” macklin assured himself and decided on the navy blue suit.
“yeah, it will be chill. you basically get to spend a whole night with your girlfriend,” will grinned and the brunette couldn’t help but smile at the thought. he hadn’t seen you in a few days because of your crazy busy schedules, so having this night to yourselves would be nice.
“yeah, you’re right. it will be chill and we’ll have fun,”macklin was basically saying positive affirmations to himself at this point which made will chuckle. he stood up to help his friend with his suit.
“don’t even sweat it, dude. she’s gonna love you,” the blonde assured and if will thought so, then macklin was gonna believe it.
once he was finished getting dressed, he grabbed his phone to let you know he was on his way over to your dorm. the boy rushed through the house, double checking his pockets that he had phone (check), keys (check), wallet (check), and a small bouquet he decided picking up for you because he knew you liked flowers.
“knock ‘em dead!” will called from the porch as macklin got into his car.
the brunette drove the short drive to the university. being new to driving in the states still and the nerves about tonight made his hands a bit shaky as he turned onto the drive that led to your dorm. he didn’t need to sweat this. it was you. y/n. his girlfriend. there was no reason for him to be nervous about some sorority formal.
he parked in the lot and climbed out, doing a third check that he had all of his belongings. you were waiting in the lobby for him after getting his text about being on his way. the hockey player stopped in his tracks though when he laid eyes on you.
your strapless, silky dress stopped around your ankles where he could see your pretty white heels. your hair was down like it usual was and macklin was pretty sure his pupils turned to hearts.
“hi,” you grinned when he got closer.
“hi..wow..you look..” the boy lost his words making you laugh.
“you look pretty..wow,” you complimented his navy suit.
“s-so do you. wow..i..i’m in awe,” he admitted earning a bright blush on your cheeks.
“you’re sweet. are these for me?” you noticed the bouquet wobbling in his hands. the brunette quickly flushed and handed them over to you.
“yes, sorry. they are.”
you admired the pretty pink and red petals, “thank you. these are pretty. wanna come up for a second so i can put them in water?” it wasn’t really a question because macklin was going to follow you regardless.
the two of you stepped into the elevator. mack’s nerves were now because of how beautiful you looked beside him and he didn’t know how to express it other than telling you and the building desire to kiss you. he followed you down to your dorm. your roommate grinned at him.
“hey mack,” maya waved.
“hey maya,” he waved back.
“look, he brought me flowers,” you showed maya the pretty bouquet.
“wow, brownie points for the hockey player,” she teased a bit which made him flush. he watched you find a vase and fill it with water from your bathroom. you came back out and placed the flowers into the vase.
“like them?” you asked for his opinion.
“i like them,” he nodded.
“i’ll put them by my desk for now. thank you, again,” you pecked his cheek.
“of course,” the boy was glad you liked them and he was glad he decided on getting them the other day because the smile on your face was so worth it after spending an hour at the store trying to pick them out.
“okay, we’re gonna head out now. we’ll be back later,” you called to maya who threw up a thumbs up.
“have fun! don’t get too drunk.”
you went back down the elevator and then out of the building where you latched your arm with mack’s. he rubbed your hand and leaned in to kiss your forehead.
“it’s not far from here,” you explained as you led the way.
“i’ve never been to one of these before,” the boy admitted a bit nervously.
“don’t worry, it’s so chill. you’ll get to meet some of my sorority sisters, we’ll eat, dance, drink some, and then we can leave whenever,” you explained and it eased some of mack’s nerves a bit more hearing you explain it. as much as he appreciated samy’s brief explanation, he also liked hearing it come from your lips too.
the two of you came up on one of the college bars in the area. it was already blasting music that could be heard from outside. macklin followed you inside where you were immediately greeted with security to check your ids. you both got little x’s on your hands meaning neither of you were 21. mack’s gaze flicked around the space that was dimly lit and pumping base through his bones.
“omg, y/n, hey!” a girl greeted you.
“hi jen, you look gorgeous!” you admired your friend’s dress.
“no you do! is this your boyfriend?” she turned her attention to mack.
“yes, this is macklin,” you gripped his arm again and the boy managed a tiny smile.
“nice to meet you. i’m jen, the sorority president. come on in. we have food in the back and drinks at the bar so get whatever,” jen explained.
you quickly led macklin to the back because you were starving. the boy watched you take a plate so he copied whatever you did. you laughed at his behavior.
“don’t be so nervous, mack.”
“sorry. just getting used to it all,” he said. he’d never been into a bar before because he wasn’t old enough first of all and if he was caught underage drinking he’d definitely get a mean punishment from his coach.
“it’s okay. it’s overwhelming, but i’m right here remember,” you assured and some of the worries eased hearing you say that. macklin offered a grateful smile as he followed your lead with the food and then followed you to a seat.
you sat with some other girls and their dates which got all of you quickly talking. the more you talked, the more comfortable macklin became and flushed when a few people recognized him as a hockey player. being next to you made him feel a lot more comfortable too. seeing you look so calm and content helped him do the same and by the time you were done eating, he was having a full conversation with some of the guys without you involved.
“let’s get pictures!” one girl exclaimed when she came around with her camera.
you pulled mack up. he eagerly wrapped his arm around your waist, the two of you smiling wide as the flash went off—almost blinding you guys because it was so bright and the room was so dark.
“aw, you guys look adorable,” the girl spun the camera around so you could see the preview. macklin quickly kissed your cheek.
“i love it, thanks,” you said.
you guys ventured back towards the center of the dance floor to start dancing along with the others. macklin was big on getting to dance, so he took full advantage, urging you to join his energy. you giggled at the way he bounced on his feet and pulled out his best dance moves for you.
when everyone started coming onto the floor, it got warm fast so the brunette lost his suit jacket leaving him in just his dress shirt that was almost halfway unbuttoned by now. his arms were around your waist, the two of you swaying to the beat and being in your own world together.
any anxiety the rookie felt earlier had completely disappeared being in the center of the dance floor with you. all that mattered to him was you in his arms as he spun you around.
“did i tell you how gorgeous you look?” the boy leaned in closer as he spoke over the music.
“you did, yes,” you grinned.
“well i’ll tell you again. you look gorgeous. prettiest girl here,” his words earned a bright blush on your cheeks.
“you’re too sweet, mack.”
“i’m serious, y/n/n. you’re beautiful,” he leaned in closer, still wanting that kiss he hadn’t gotten yet. you saw his request and closed the gap.
the two of you shared a sweet kiss, not caring that there were others around you or watching. your lips felt like heaven against the hockey player’s. he never wanted to let you go, but forced himself to to get some air back into his lungs.
“i could kiss you forever,” he mumbled.
“me too,” and you reconnected your lips for another quick kiss. mack’s hands wandered a bit lower towards your hips and then swiping over your ass. a giggle left your lips at his behavior.
“we should save this for the dorm,” you smiled while directing him away for now. a little pout appeared, but he understood and let you go.
the music picked up again and it had him spinning you around once more. because all of his focus was on hockey growing up, the brunette’s never had an experience of going to an end of the year dance or prom or anything, so he was glad he was getting to make this up with you right now.
as the night winded down, you and macklin decided to leave. he threw his suit jacket over your shoulders for the quick five minute walk back to your dorm. you appreciated his gesture, tugging it closer to your body to hide yourself from the semi-cold evening temperatures.
“thanks for coming tonight,” you smiled as you rode the elevator.
“of course. i had a lot of fun. thanks for bringing me,” mack returned your smile.
“i’m glad you did. better get ready for next semester,” you teased a bit and mack’s heart swelled just a little bit at the idea of coming back to your formal because that meant you wanted him enough to stick around for the next one.
he knew what you two had meant a lot to both of you, but sometimes he got in his head just a little bit wondering if he was good enough for you or not enough because he was some big shot hockey player and he knew what everyone thought about hockey players. he worried he wasn’t the one for you even though you were 100% the one for him. he knew it from the day he met you, so hearing you say that made him burst with joy.
maya wasn’t in the dorm, probably taking the hint that you guys wanted the room to yourselves. macklin was glad because he wanted to continue that kissing you guys were doing earlier.
he watched you hang up his suit jacket like you did every time he brought his suits with him and kick your shoes off. he followed suit and then didn’t waste another second bringing your lips to his again.
that urge he’s had all night only got stronger the more he kissed you. you reciprocated all of his actions and unspoken wants, pulling your hand through his pretty brunette locks and running your hand down his chest.
“i love you,” the boy mumbled between kisses.
“i love you,” you breathed.
he found your gaze for a second, wondering if this was right. wondering if you were sure about him. his thoughts were answered though when you grabbed ahold of his face to kiss him again and lead him to your bed.
needless to say, all of his anxieties were eased by the end of the night and the love he had for you had never been bigger.
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woso-story · 13 hours ago
Text
The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part Four
Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three
The morning of the meeting, your nerves felt like they were eating you alive. Every step toward the café felt heavier than the last, as though the gravity of your decision was pulling you back. For days, you’d debated whether to come at all. You’d imagined every possible outcome: Alexia apologizing, Alexia blaming you, Alexia trying to win you back. But no matter how much you rehearsed your responses, nothing prepared you for the reality of seeing her again.
The café was quiet as you approached. It was early, not many people around. Through the glass, you could see Alexia already sitting at your old table, her back slightly hunched, her hands wrapped tightly around a mug.
For a moment, you stopped in your tracks. Memories of the two of you flooded your mind—happy days spent in this exact spot, laughing, dreaming, planning your future together. The air had always been warm with love back then. But now? Now it felt like that love was gone, leaving only bitterness and heartbreak behind.
You inhaled deeply and pushed open the door.
---
The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Alexia’s attention. She looked up, her eyes meeting yours instantly, and she stood, as if she wasn’t sure whether to stay seated or greet you. She hesitated before giving a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hi,” she said quietly. Her voice was small, unsure, and it tugged at your heart in a way you weren’t ready for.
“Hi,” you replied curtly. No warmth, no familiarity. Just the distance you’d carefully built since the day you walked out of her apartment.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea?” she offered, almost nervously.
You shook your head. “No. Let’s just get this over with.”
The words were sharp, but you needed them to be. You needed to protect yourself, to keep the walls you’d built from crumbling the moment she looked at you with those pleading eyes.
Alexia flinched slightly but nodded, sitting back down. You followed, keeping your distance, your arms crossed defensively as you waited for her to start.
---
The silence between you stretched on painfully. Alexia fidgeted with her mug, her eyes darting between you and the table. You resisted the urge to fill the void, to make it easier for her. This was her meeting, her chance to explain. You weren’t going to make it easier for her.
Finally, you sighed, irritation creeping into your voice. “If you’re not going to say anything, I’m leaving. I don’t have time to sit here in silence.”
“No—wait,” she blurted out, her voice breaking slightly. She looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I need to try.”
---
Alexia took a deep breath, her hands clasped tightly together as if trying to hold herself together. “I’m sorry for everything. For the way I treated you. For shutting you out. For not listening. I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to focus on getting better, but...I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you in the process.”
You stayed silent, your expression unreadable.
“When I got injured, I felt like everything I’d worked for my whole life was slipping away,” she continued, her voice cracking. “Football isn’t just a job for me—it’s who I am. And losing that...I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was angry, scared, lost. And instead of letting you help me, I pushed you away. I thought I could handle it on my own. But I couldn’t.”
Her voice broke completely now, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear, I didn’t. But I did, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I made you feel like you didn’t matter, because you do. You always did. You’re...you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ruined it.”
---
Her words hit you harder than you expected. For months, you’d begged her to open up, to tell you how she felt. And now, here she was, pouring her heart out—but it was too late.
“You’re right,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “You did ruin it.”
Alexia flinched as if you’d slapped her, but you didn’t stop.
“I tried, Alexia. I tried so hard to be there for you, to support you, to love you. But you didn’t let me. Every time I tried to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I needed you, you weren’t there. And do you know how that felt? To feel like I was invisible? Like I didn’t matter?”
Tears were streaming down your face now, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. “You broke my heart, Alexia. Piece by piece, over months. And I can’t just forget that.”
---
Alexia sobbed quietly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself. “I know,” she whispered. “I know I messed up. But...please. Please give me another chance. I’ll do better. I’ll change. Just...don’t give up on us.”
You shook your head, your heart aching at the sight of her so broken. “It’s not that simple, Alexia. You hurt me. And I don’t think I can trust you not to do it again.”
Her face crumpled, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob.
“I think we need time,” you continued, your voice shaking. “Time to heal. Separately.”
Alexia’s tears fell freely now, her shoulders shaking as she cried. “I can’t do this without you,” she whispered. “You’re my rock. You always have been.”
You let out a bitter laugh. “Your rock? I felt more like your punching bag these last few months. I took every hit, Alexia. Every argument, every hurtful comment, every time you brushed me off. I took it all. And I broke because of it.”
She sobbed quietly, her hands trembling as she reached for yours. “I’ll fix it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just...don’t leave me.”
You took her hands in yours, your heart aching at the sight of her so broken. “You need help, Alexia. Real help. Talk to a sports psychologist. Work through everything you’re feeling. Because I can’t be the one to fix this for you. I tried, and it nearly destroyed me.”
Her tears fell harder, but she nodded slowly, her grip on your hands tightening.
After a moment Alexia’s sobs quieted, and she wiped at her face with shaking hands. “So...that’s it?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“For now,” you said softly. “You need time to heal. And so do I. We can’t do that together.”
She nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. “Is there still a chance for us? Someday?”
You hesitated, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if it’s meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other. For now, we have to let go.”
Her face crumpled, but she managed a small, shaky smile. “Okay,” she whispered.
You stood, your heart heavy as you looked at her one last time. “Take care of yourself, Alexia,” you said gently.
“You too,” she replied, her voice trembling.
And with that, you walked away, leaving behind the woman you once thought you’d spend forever with.
As you stepped out into the crisp morning air, a single thought ran through your mind: Maybe someday.
But for now, you needed to heal. Alone.
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 2 days ago
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chance of showers
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pairing: leon x reader
cws: piss, p in v, pee in v, ddlg
a/n: yeah, it was bound to happen, wasn't it? the double sin of ddlg and piss
wc: 1.5k
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These days, Leon bids you adieu in the threshold between your typical affection and your faux-innocence facade that comes with a side of fuck-me eyes. That’s when Daddy takes over. 
When he comes home from work, he can sense the desperation threatening to boil over into teary-eyed, delirious begging so he gives you an offer you can’t refuse: he’ll be your chauffeur to the not-quite-luxurious sex-filled sanctuary of your shared bedroom. That is to say, he’ll carry you across the hall where he can fuck you stupid without all the back pain that a couch rendezvous would give him.
You greet him with a hug and a heart-eyed grin, immediately discarding all previous activities for his attention. You’ve been gorilla-glue stuck to the TV all day due to the once a week chance to watch all the High School Musical movies on cable — which Leon still pays for — one after the other. He can tell by your antsy legs, shifting from one foot to the other. It’s not nerves– daddy makes you relaxed. No, it’s a cute little pee-pee dance.
“Do you need to do something before we go have some fun together?”
“Uh-uh. I wanna have special time with daddy now.”
“Are you sure? If you need to go pee, daddy can wait for you.”
“I don’t need to go.”
Leon doesn’t need a polygraph test to know that’s a fucking lie. 
But, you’re a big girl, or, at least, you’ve insisted that you are whenever Leon challenges that silly little ‘fact’ you’ve tried to manifest into reality. 
The reality is: you need daddy’s help, particularly when you’re in this state. 
Leon should take you by the hand and lead you to the bathroom, he should tell, not ask. But, it’s like letting your toddler touch the hot stove just once – they’ll learn their lesson and they’ll never do it again. 
You’re an adult who has the reasoning skills to know that you should pee. Plus, it’s not like pissing yourself is anything more than an embarrassing moment and a bitch to clean up. 
So, Leon doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he has you how he wants you. All fucked-out, your pussy stuffed so full you can see his dick in your abdomen and your brain completely empty of all thoughts (and your bladder so full he could make you burst if he pressed on your stomach with enough force). 
As he often does, Leon makes you ride him because he thinks it’s cute to watch you struggle, and he inevitably takes over the job of gripping your hips and pulling them back down to meet his. Over and over again until you think you’re going to pass out. 
Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is occupied with your constant moaning – until you have an ‘uh-oh’ moment. Leon can see it flash across your face. 
“Daddy,” you manage through a shaky voice. “No more, no more.”
The thing is: No more isn’t your safe word. No more is usually what you say when everything feels so intense that you’re overwhelmed and need Leon’s reassurance. He rubs your back and showers you in praise while he continues to fuck you as the unwritten protocol says he should. 
“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“No, no,” you protest, shaking your head vehemently. “Have to go pee, daddy.”
“Baby, we’ve been through this before, remember? The first time you squirted, you thought you were gonna pee, but you didn’t. You liked that feeling, right?”
It’s true. You were absolutely convinced you’d pee yourself the first time Leon made you squirt, but you both suspect this time is different. 
“No, I’m really gonna pee this time.”
You’re clenching around him, he can feel it. Maybe you are going to squirt, he thinks. 
Piss is hardly the worst thing Leon’s been covered in – he’s 40 years old, old enough to give up on giving a fuck about this kind of thing. And, God, he’ll take any chance to tease you. 
“Didn’t Daddy ask you if you needed to go pee earlier?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did you say?”
“No.”
“Was that a lie? Did you lie to Daddy?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, since you made your choice by yourself and didn’t want daddy’s help, you’re not gonna get it. You can hold it until I’m done with you.”
“No, I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I can’t.”
“Then, I guess you’ll just have to let it out.”
“No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want to. I wanna hold it.”
Go right ahead, he thinks, as he continues to fuck you, completely disregarding your desperation. He wants to see you break and at this point, you’re doing anything to hold back, on the verge of tears. 
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you start to cry as warm liquid trickles out of you, coating his cock little by little as pee continues to flow from you. You only leak a little in the grand scheme of things, but you’re humiliated, full-on crying to the point where it’s worrisome.
Finally, he slows his thrusts. 
“Hey,” he rubs your back soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I told you you could do it. I’m not mad at you.”
“It’s so embarrassing.”
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I bet it felt good to let go. Didn’t it?”
“A little bit… but I still have to go more.”
“Then, go, baby. Let it out.”
Because, one, it doesn’t matter at this point – he’ll have to change the sheets anyway. And, two, he finds the whole ordeal a bit more arousing than he suspected he would. 
When you dare to make eye-contact, you’ve got doubt written all over you, like you think this is some sort of trap or a sacrifice of his comfort for yours. 
“Go ahead. It’s gonna feel good.”
Nervous, but desperate, you have to let go. 
Leon praises you as you finally allow yourself some relief, releasing short bursts and then a steady stream. 
“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Let it all out.”
When the torrential downpour slows to a leaky faucet, his thumb finds its way to your clit and he resumes his thrusts, gaining momentum steadily. 
Your next revelation is not an ‘uh-oh’, just an ‘oh’ in a series of incoherent moans. 
“Daddy, daddy, I’m gonna-”
“I know you are.”
Neither of you can be sure if your next release is pee or squirt but what matters is that you came, squeezing Leon’s cock so perfectly that he’s barely hanging on by the time you’re coming down from your  high. 
Usually, he asks you where you want it, makes you beg for it inside, and he finally gives it to you, but now, his face is already buried in the crook of your shoulder as he’s given into the pleasure. 
He fills you to the brim, ruins the bed a little more for the sake of a heavenly orgasm. It’s totally fucking worth it every time. 
After a moment of silence, he pats you on the butt and says, “hop up, baby”.
“No,” you protest, wrapping your arms around him. 
“Baby, I’ll come right back, but I gotta pee.”
He laughs a little at the irony. It feels cruel in a way to make you piss yourself while he gets a more dignified experience. 
You’re ready to even out the score, quick to turn the tables. 
“No,” you insist. “You can either hold it or wait until I’m done with you.”
Leon should’ve anticipated your smartass move. 
“You really want me to piss inside you? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t let me get up.”
It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s a plea for you to let him go. 
“It’s only fair,” you say. 
“Fine,” he concedes, repositioning you so that you’re on your back. Yeah, he could get up, he could win now that he’s on top, but maybe there’s a part of him that wants to do this. To make you regret your attitude when you find out what it feels like for Leon to piss inside you, to prove something to you, to punish you – there are so many excuses, but the truth is: the idea excites him. 
“You ready?” he asks – though the question is more directed at himself as stage fright begins to creep up inside him. 
“You can do it, daddy,” you say, voice full of genuine encouragement rather than your previous taunting tone. 
So, he does. The release is double the relief with your warmth surrounding him as he lets go. You look awfully curious, almost in awe of the fact that it’s happening, especially since you can’t exactly see it – at least, not yet. But Leon’s feeling the type of relaxation that less obstinate people get from meditation. 
“All done,” he says, knowing that’s a fucking lie, but pulling out anyway, letting the last droplets hit you on the stomach.
“Daddy!” you say, amusement barely hidden behind your mild vexation. 
“Sorry,” he says with a shrug and a smirk that says he’s anything but. 
“I think it’s time for a trip to the bathroom. We really need to shower,” you say. 
“Hey, I just gave you a little bit of a shower, baby. If you wanted more, you could’ve asked.”
But that kind of shower will have to wait until next time. 
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sageyxbabey · 1 day ago
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Every Move You Make
MDNI John Price x Fem!Reader | your husband likes to watch you
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Inspired by @the-californicationist who so graciously tagged me with the idea "Price comes home and watches you finger yourself." Teehee c:
WC: ~900 (this is entirely not proofread it might be a bit shit i'm so sorry)
CW: none, really. just mutual masturbation and piv
At last, you allow yourself to melt onto your sheets. Freshly showered and free from work for the day. You should have two hours until your husband makes it home. More than enough time to help yourself release a bit of… pent-up tension. You wriggle your pants off, graceless in your exhaustion, and begin circling your fingers gently over your clit. No need to rush.
You’re finally in the throes of your pleasure, that slow build of warmth and electricity in your core just beginning to culminate into something absolutely delicious, when–
You jolt at the shift in weight at the end of the bed. Eyes flying open, you lock gazes with your husband, one knee resting on the mattress but otherwise preternaturally still, like a wolf waiting for his prey to bolt. He’s early.
“John,” you pant.
“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to startle you.” His rumbling voice is almost as dangerous as the smile slowly spreading across his face. “Don’t stop on my account.” He moves slowly, sinking his other knee into the bed and shifting forward until your thighs lay over his. 
You don’t move, enthralled by the look on your husband’s face. He’s so very hungry.
 Normally, John would have slapped your hands aside by now and taken over for you. Wasn’t that one of the benefits of having a partner? Orgasms that you didn’t have to give yourself? 
He raises an eyebrow, looking between your face and your glistening cunt, “Well? I want to see the show I almost missed out on,” he grumbles.
Ah, it was going to be like that today.
Your fingers dip into the slick arousal pooling at your entrance before returning to dance over your clit. Your eyes never leave John’s face, but his stare is fixed upon the movements of your hand, licking his chops. He hums, big hands stroking over the sensitive skin of your thighs, soothing you like a wild animal. He’s burning you alive, you just know it. Every nerve ending lights up at his touch like iron filings following the pull of a magnet. There’s no stopping the moan that crawls out of your throat, and your pussy clenches pitifully around nothing. 
Empty, empty, empty.
You need your husband. You need your John inside you. 
When you’re finally considering begging, you watch him bend his head forward. “Stop,” he says. 
‘Thank fuck,’ you think. At last, your husband is going to take care of it, and you can relax–
You hear him spit. You feel wetness land on your clit and meander down to your opening.
“Alright,” he whispers with a short nod, “Continue.”
You blink at him owlishly, frustration building with each pulse of arousal through your swollen clit. It’s only now that you realise John has shucked his work trousers down to the mid-thigh without your notice, one large hand fisted tightly around his cock. You tease yourself again, this time with the wet gift he has provided you, and his hand starts to move.
You stop. He stops. You speed up, he speeds up.
He smirks, a low chuckle escaping him. He looks like a dragon billowing smoke. “Thank you for finally catching on, love, I was worried you’d leave me to play all by myself.” That smile from earlier turns into a full-on grin, just a little too toothy to be innocent. 
Dangerous, your husband.
That’s okay. You’ve always liked it when he puts those teeth around your neck.
“Don’t worry, darling,” you sigh. His eyes snap to your face for a moment at your words, before they focus back on his prize. “I’ll always play with you,” you croon. Your free hand trails a path from your knee to your centre, one fingertip circling lazily around your entrance. Your husband’s eyes narrow viciously. 
“Don’t,” he growls. His hand stills on the base of his cock, watching. Waiting. Hunting.
You laugh and thrust two fingers inside yourself.
You barely get to crook them before John snaps, massive paw wrenching your hands from your flesh, notching himself against your cunt before sliding home in one smooth stroke. You’re not laughing now. You’re shrieking. 
“You little fucking minx, you just couldn’t help yourself. Are you happy?” He asks, the weight of his hips pinning you open beneath him like a butterfly under glass. You’re grinning like the cat that got the cream, cheeks burning with mirth. Your husband chuckles darkly at the sight.
“Of course you’re fucking happy.” John pulls out until he’s barely inside of you, “Can never let me sit back and watch, can you? Always so desperate to have your husband inside of you.” He drives his point home with a brutal thrust, and you wail at the feeling of his tip popping past the tight ring of muscles just behind your entrance. 
“Yes,” you cry. “Always want you inside, need you inside…” Your words trail off into moans, clawing at John’s shoulders until his entire body is draped on top of you, crushing you into the mattress. It takes barely a minute before you’re bearing down on his cock with a blinding orgasm.
You let your wolf devour you that night.
tag list:
@universitypenguin @teenagellamaangel @frogtowne
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