#it’s a small thing but i thought it was super neat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mapis-putellas · 1 month ago

Text

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Okay, so I have no idea how many words this is, but it’s super freaking long and I had to stop here before I went too crazy. I think the ending is perfect, but I can do a part 2 if enough of you guys want it. Enjoy <3

The flat felt emptier than usual, though Alexia's familiar presence still lingered in the small things. The scent of her perfume on the throw blanket draped over the couch, the mug she always used sitting on the counter, the neatly folded laundry on the chair that you hadn't yet put away. But these reminders weren't enough anymore. They only made the emptiness sharper, the silence heavier.

You sighed as you sat on the edge of the couch, scrolling through your phone without really looking at the screen. Alexia wouldn't be home for another few hours—some team meeting or another. The time alone had become routine, almost expected. She'd walk in, tired, offer you a quiet smile, and head straight for the shower. Then you'd both go to bed, lying on opposite sides, separated by an invisible wall that neither of you seemed willing to breach.

It wasn't always like this. Once, not so long ago, the flat had been filled with laughter and warmth. You remembered how Alexia used to pull you into her arms the moment she walked through the door, murmuring sweet words in Spanish as she peppered soft kisses to any part of your face she could reach. How you'd both stay up late talking, sharing dreams and fears like you were the only two people in the world.

But those moments felt distant now, like they belonged to another version of you—of what you used to be.

When Arsenal had reached out with an offer, you hadn't hesitated to listen. The idea of leaving Barcelona, of leaving Alexia, should've filled you with dread, but it didn't. Instead, it felt like relief. A chance to escape the slow unraveling of your relationship before it completely came apart and hurt you both beyond repair in the process.

You weren't sure if Alexia would fight to keep you here, and that uncertainty hurt more than you cared to admit.

The sound of keys in the lock broke through your thoughts. You looked up as Alexia stepped inside, her hair tied back in a low bun, a tired but polite smile on her lips. She looked beautiful, as always, but there was a hesitance in her movements, like she wasn't sure how to approach you anymore.

"Hola," she said softly, setting her bag down by the door, kicking off her shoes that land on the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

"Hi," you replied, forcing a smile that you knew didn't reach your eyes.

She hesitated for a moment, like she wanted to say something, but instead she simply nodded in acknowledgment and headed toward the bathroom. The sound of the shower running filled the silence, and you sank back against the couch, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You made your way to bed eventually, and you found Alexia already asleep, curled up at the very edge of the bed. You stared at her for a second, swallowing the tightness in your throat as you climbed in next to her and tugged the blankets up to your waist.

You laid on your side, hand instinctively reaching out to touch her, but it fell short, simply skimming the material of her T-shirt. One of her own. Not yours like it once had been. A single tear fell then, tickling your skin as it glided down your cheek. After a second, you turned to face away from her, the distance between you both feeling bigger than ever.

The next morning, Alexia was already gone when you woke up. A note on the counter told you she had an early training session. You stared at her neat handwriting for a moment, the words blurring slightly as tears pricked at your eyes.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to wake you up with soft touches and kisses, coaxing you into the shower whilst she cooked breakfast so you could both head to training together. Just like you used to do.

You decided to call in sick to training, and unlike she would have done before, Alexia doesn't call to check in; to ask where you were or if you were okay. It only made your decision all the more clear. You spend the day mulling over it, replaying the offer from Arsenal in your mind. It wasn't just about the opportunity to play for a new team, not anymore. It was about starting over. Finding yourself again.

By the time Alexia came home that evening, you had made up your mind.

"Can we talk?" you asked as she walked into the living room.

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she nodded, sitting down on the couch next to you.

You hesitated as you turned to face her, your hands twisting nervously in your lap. "Arsenal made me an offer," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia's eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she didn't say anything. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. "You... you are leaving?"

"I haven't decided yet," you admitted, though the words felt like a lie.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Why?"

"Alexia..." You sighed, struggling to find the right words. "Things between us, they're not the same anymore. We're not the same anymore."

She looked up at you, her brown eyes filled with something you couldn't quite place—hurt, maybe, or regret. "You don't want to try?"

"I don't even know if we can fix this," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "We barely see each other. We barely talk. I just... I don't know if this is what you want anymore."

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her hands clenching into fists. "I want you," she said, her accent thick with emotion. "But you—you are leaving."

"I don't have to."

The silence that followed was deafening. You wanted her to fight for you, to beg you to stay, but instead, she just sat there, her shoulders slumping under the weight of your words.

"I need to think," you said finally, standing up. "I'll stay at a hotel tonight."

She didn't try to stop you as you grabbed your bag you'd packed earlier and walked out the door. It closed behind you with a click that sounded deafening, final, and she didn't try and follow you. Your eyes stung with the familiar sensation of tears as you made your way to your car, a single one falling, staining your skin as you slumped into the drivers seat. You glanced at the house again, begging, hoping the door would open and Alexia would appear and plead with you to stay. But the door stayed closed, and the place Alexia would have once stood remained empty.

Feeling emptier than you ever had before, you started the car.

The hotel room felt cold and impersonal, but it was a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the flat. You spent hours staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation -or lack there of, with Alexia over and over in your mind. You loved her. That was never the problem. Had never been the problem. But love wasn't always enough, and you weren't sure if you could keep pretending that it was.

Sleep didn't come easy that night.

The next morning, as you were packing up your things, there was a knock at your door. It was quiet, almost as though the person on the other side had no intention of you really hearing it. But you had. You opened the door to find Alexia standing there, her eyes red-rimmed and tired. She was holding a small box, her hands trembling slightly as she held it out to you.

"What's this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't answer, just motioned for you to open it. You do, and inside was a simple silver bracelet, engraved with the coordinates of the place where you'd first met. The Barça training grounds.

"I bought this for you," she said quietly, her voice halting and unsure. "But I... I never gave it to you. I was waiting for the right time."

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at her. "Alexia..."

"I know I make mistakes," she said, her voice trembling. "But I love you. And I want to fix this. Please... don't go."

For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe things weren't perfect, but they didn't have to be. Maybe you could find your way back to each other. Just like how you used to be.

You reached out, taking her hand in yours and squeezing softly. "I love you too," you said. "Let's figure this out. Together."

And for the first time in a long time, Alexia smiled—a real, genuine smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

But things don't always turn out like you wish.

The days passed in a blur of routines and rehearsed smiles, but no matter how much effort you and Alexia put into trying to mend the fractures in your relationship, something always felt off. Scheduled date nights became more of an obligation than a joy, a box to tick off in your shared attempts to fix what had once been effortless.

Dinners at your favorite restaurants were filled with polite conversation, a stark contrast to the laughter and shared glances that used to make the world feel smaller. When you went on walks, the silences felt heavier, stretched thin by the weight of everything that neither of you could bring yourselves to say. Even your rare lazy mornings together, which had once been sacred, now felt stilted, like two strangers trying too hard to find a common ground that had long since eroded.

You wanted to believe you could fix it. You both did. But the truth was undeniable. No amount of effort could recreate the spark that had gone out. And the harder you tried, the more apparent it became that you weren't meant to keep holding on.

You sat on the edge of the bed one night, staring at your phone but not really seeing the screen. Alexia was beside you, scrolling through her own phone, but the expression on her face was undecipherable. The space between you felt bigger than ever, and you knew she felt it too.

You thought about the Arsenal offer again. It had been weeks since you'd spoken to Alexia about it, but the idea had never left your mind. At first, you had dismissed it as an impulsive reaction to your struggles, a way to escape the pain of watching your relationship crumble into pieces. But the more time that passed, the more it felt like the right choice. Not just for your career, but for your sanity—and for Alexia's.

The thought of leaving her hurt, but not in the way you had expected. It wasn't the gut-wrenching agony you'd always imagined a breakup with Alexia would bring. Instead, it felt like a quiet sadness, a dull ache that you knew would fade with time.

You had been torturing yourself with the decision for days, envisioning the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal she would undoubtedly feel. But no matter how much you agonized over it, the answer was clear

Neither of you could heal while you were still together.

When you finally made the decision, it didn't bring the relief you had hoped for. Instead, it left you with a sense of finality, a heavy weight in your chest. You knew you needed to tell Alexia, but every time you tried, the words caught in your throat. Like there was something in the way.

It wasn't until a week later that you found the courage to say what needed to be said.

You came home from speaking to Jonatan to find Alexia in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. She glanced up when you walked in, offering you a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hola," she said softly, her accent still as endearing as ever.

"Hi," you replied, leaning against the counter as you watched her. Your heart ached at the sight of her, at the knowledge of what you were about to do.

"I need to talk to you," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Alexia froze, her knife hovering over the cutting board. After a second, she set it down carefully before turning to face you, her expression wary.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. "I've decided to take the Arsenal offer."

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she didn't say anything. The silence in the room felt heavy. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "You're leaving?"

"I think it's the best thing for both of us," you said, your throat tight. You couldn't cry. Not now. "We've been trying so hard, but it's not working, Alexia. We can't keep pretending that everything is okay when it's evidently clear it's not."

Her jaw clenched, and she looked away, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. "I thought we were fixing it," she said, her voice trembling. "I thought we were trying."

"We were," you said, stepping closer to her. "But trying isn't enough. We're forcing something that isn't there anymore, and it's not fair to either of us."

She turned back to you, tears glistening in her eyes. The sight stung more than you thought it would. "So that's it? You're just leaving?"

"I don't want to hurt you," you said, your own voice breaking. "that's the last thing I ever want to do. But I can't stay and keep pretending that this is going to work. We deserve better than this, Alexia. Both of us."

Her shoulders slumped, and you knew she knew you were right. She let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to say goodbye to you," she said, her voice choked.

You felt tears spill down your cheeks as you reached out, taking her hands in yours. "You don't have to say goodbye," you said softly. "We'll always have a connection, Alexia. It's inevitable. But we can't keep holding onto something that's only hurting us."

She nodded slowly, her tears falling freely now. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," you whisper, tugging on her hand and pulling her into your arms. She fell limp against you, arms clinging to your waist as she shook with silent sobs. You buried your face into her neck, taking in her smell, her touch. The way her hands fist your shirt tightly, like she was terrified to let go. It was the first time you'd held her in what felt like months. After a moment, you pulled away, your trembling hands reaching up to cup her cheeks. She stared at you, eyes shiny and cheeks wet. She leaned into your touch, and you smiled sadly as you gently wipe away the tears beneath her eyes. "And that's why I have to do this." You just manage to choke out.

Alexia's bottom lip trembled, and you pursed your own lips to stop them from doing the same as you pulled her back into your arms. This time, you allowed yourself to cry too.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of packing, paperwork, and goodbyes. Alexia helped you with everything, even though you knew it was killing her to watch you go. To leave the life you both knew so well behind. She was even there when you packed up the last of your things, her quiet presence a comfort even in the midst of the heartbreak.

On your last night in Barcelona, you sat together on the couch, a glass of wine in each of your hands. The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

"I'm going to miss you," Alexia said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at her to see her looking down at the glass she had resting on her leg, finger tip tracing over the rim.

"I'm going to miss you too," you replied, your heart aching at the thought of leaving her. She looked up at you, and the unmistakable shine of tears in her eyes was back. You reached forward, setting your wine onto the coffee table before holding out your arm. Alexia sniffled as she placed her glass next to your own before scooting closer, curling up against your side and laying her head against chest. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, squeezing softly as you rest your cheek against the top of her head. No more words were spoken. They didn't need to be. What was done, was done, and now, you were just making the most of having her close.

When it was time to leave, she walked you to the door, her hand lingering in yours as she said goodbye.

"Take care of yourself," she said, her voice trembling.

"You too," you replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek.

And then you were gone, stepping outside with your bags in tow. Alexia remained in the threshold of the doorway as you packed your things into the trunk of your car, and as much as it pained you to do so, you ignore the quivering breaths that escape her lips as she tried, yet failed to hold herself together. As you opened the drivers side door, you glanced back at her one last time. She was frozen in place, arms crossed against her chest in what you knew was a futile effort at comforting herself.

You couldn't bring yourself to do anything more than lift your hand, a silent, yet almost pathetic bid goodbye. Alexia mimicked it, and you stare at her for just a second longer before finally getting into the car. You hear the quiet sob that escaped her lips just as you closed the door, and your own vision became blurry with tears you refused to let fall. As you start the car and put it into drive, you drive off into the quiet of the night without glancing back.

The flight to London was quiet, giving you plenty of time to reflect on everything that had happened. You knew you had made the right decision, but that didn't make it any easier. Starting over would be hard, you know that, but you were determined to find yourself again—to rediscover the passion and joy that had brought you to football in the first place.

And as much as it hurt to leave Alexia behind, you knew that this was the best thing for both of you. It was the only way to truly heal.

Settling into Arsenal was easier than you ever could have imagined. From the moment you stepped foot on the training pitch, you were greeted with smiles, playful banter, and an atmosphere that felt both warm and inviting. The team had an undeniable companionship, one you hadn't realized how much you missed. It wasn't just the people, though; it was the environment as a whole. Arsenal gave you space to breathe, to be yourself, and to rediscover the parts of football that made you fall in love with it in the first place.

Barça had once given you that too, at the beginning. But when your relationship with Alexia started to crumble, so had your relationship with the people you had once called your friends. Every interaction with them had felt forced, fake, even. The truth was you had never wanted them to know just what was going on behind the scenes when they weren’t there. You hadn’t wanted them to think they had to take sides.

For the first time in months, you felt truly free. Free from the weight of trying to fix something that was irreparable. Free from the guilt and the pain that had clung to you after leaving Alexia. And as difficult as it had been to walk away from her and everything you'd built together, you realized now it had been the right decision.

It wasn't immediate, of course. The first few weeks were a blur of adjusting to a new city, new teammates, and a new routine. But once you found your footing, you began to feel the joy creeping back in. The rush of adrenaline during a perfectly timed tackle, the satisfaction of weaving a pass through a crowded midfield, the way your teammates celebrated every small victory as if it were monumental—it all reminded you why you'd worked so hard to make it big in the first place.

And then there was Leah.

Leah Williamson, the team's captain and all-around golden girl, had been one of the first to welcome you. She'd offered you a tour of the facilities, introduced you to everyone, and made it her personal mission to ensure you felt at home. She had a heart of gold and a quick wit that often had you crying with laughter during team dinners. Her energy was infectious, and her kindness knew no bounds too.

At first, you didn't think much of it. Leah was friendly with everyone, so it wasn't surprising that she'd taken you under her wing. But as the weeks turned into months, you began to notice the little things. The way her gaze lingered on you a moment too long during training. The way she always seemed to find her way to your side during team activities. The way she'd offer to drive you home after late practices, even if it meant going out of her way.

You couldn't deny the connection between you, but the scars from your relationship with Alexia were still too raw to even think about dating again. You needed time to heal, to find yourself again. So, when Leah's shy advances became more apparent, you gently and kindly turned her down.

She never took it personally, though. Leah was patient, understanding, and never once made you feel pressured. Instead, she remained a constant source of support and friendship, always there with a warm smile or a sarcastic comment to make your day just that bit better.

By the time five months had passed, you were in a completely different place than when you first arrived. You felt stronger, both physically and mentally, lighter, and more like yourself than you had in a long time. And while you hadn't planned on falling for anyone, Leah somehow made it happen.

It started subtly, almost imperceptibly. The way your heart skipped a beat when she laughed. The way her touch lingered on your arm when she passed you a water bottle during breaks. The way she always seemed to know exactly what to say to calm your nerves before a big match without even trying.

You tried to ignore it at first, convincing yourself it was nothing more than a harmless crush. But the more time you spent with Leah, the harder it became to deny your feelings.

Three months after Leah first made her interest known, you found yourself standing outside the training ground, her car idling nearby as she waited for you. She'd offered to drive you home again, as she often did, and you'd agreed without hesitation.

As you slid into the passenger seat, you glanced over at her, taking in the way the golden evening light framed her face. She looked at you with that familiar, easy smile, and you felt something shift inside you.

"Leah," you said, your voice softer than you intended.

"Yeah?" she replied, turning to face you fully.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Would you... maybe want to grab dinner or something this weekend? Just the two of us?"

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you worried you'd misread everything. But then her smile grew, lighting up her entire face.

"I'd love to," she said, her voice warm.

And it was casual at first. You didn't go on any grand, elaborate dates. Instead, you kept things low-key, easing into the idea of a relationship and seeing where it might lead. You'd grab coffee after practice, watch movies at her place, or take long walks through the city, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time.

Leah never rushed you, never pushed for more than you were ready to give. And for that, you were endlessly grateful. She made you feel safe, cherished, and most importantly, like you could be yourself.

One evening, you found yourself curled up on Leah's couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on your lap as a movie played on the TV. Leah sat beside you, her arm draped casually along the back of the couch and over your shoulders.

As the credits rolled, you turned to her, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "You know," you said, your tone teasing, "I never thought I'd end up here."

"On my couch, stealing my popcorn?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed, nudging her playfully. "No, I mean... with you. After everything that happened, I didn't think I'd ever feel this way again."

Leah's expression softened, and she reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "You deserve to be happy," she said simply. "And if I can be the one to make you happy, then that's all I want."

Your heart melted at her words, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Leah grew stronger. She became your rock, your confidante, and your biggest cheerleader. And though the memories of your past relationship with Alexia still lingered, they no longer weighed you down like an anchor to shore.

You were finally moving forward, and with Leah by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.

Because sometimes, love wasn't about grand gestures or sweeping romances. Sometimes, it was about finding someone who made you feel whole, who reminded you of all the reasons you deserved to be happy.

And Leah did exactly that.

The Emirates Stadium buzzed with anticipation, the Arsenal fans creating an atmosphere so loud and electric you could almost feel it in your bones. But none of it seemed to register with you as you stood in the tunnel, waiting to step out onto the pitch. Your heart was pounding for a reason that had nothing to do with nerves about the match.

Barcelona.

And Alexia.

You hadn't spoken to her in months. Not since the last awkward exchange after you'd left for Arsenal. She hadn't reached out, and neither had you. It was better that way. Cleaner. But the silence didn't mean you hadn't thought about her. Late at night, when your mind wandered, or when something small reminded you of her, the memories crept in. You'd even caught yourself scrolling through her Instagram more times than you cared to admit, trying to piece together what her life looked like now you weren’t in it.

But absolutely nothing could have prepared you for seeing her in person again.

As the line-up for the match formed in the tunnel, your gaze was drawn to the familiar blonde ahead of you. Her back was to you, the number 11 stitched across her Barça kit. She looked the same, yet entirely different. Her posture was as composed and confident as always, the way it had been every time she'd led her team.

You tried to focus elsewhere. On the way Leah stood next to you, her fingers subtly brushing against yours in quiet reassurance. On the way your Arsenal teammates were joking to ease the tension. But no matter how much you tried to ground yourself, your eyes found their way back to Alexia.

And then she turned.

Her head tilted slightly as her gaze swept over the line-up behind her, landing on you. For a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then, her lips curved into a soft, familiar smile, one that held all the tenderness and intimacy of the countless nights you'd spent wrapped up in each other.

It all but knocked the air from your lungs.

"Hey, you alright?" Leah's voice pulled you back to reality, her hand brushing against your arm as she stepped closer.

You tore your gaze from Alexia, looking up at Leah's concerned face. You nodded quickly ignoring the guilt and forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," you said, the words a little too quick, a little too forced. But Leah didn't seem to notice. She gave you a small smile of her own before turning back to face the pitch, her focus already shifting to the game.

You wished it was that easy for you.

From the first whistle, the match was intense. Arsenal and Barcelona were two of the best teams in the world, and it showed in every pass, every tackle, every movement on the pitch. The pace was relentless, the energy palpable and consuming.

But as much as you tried to focus, to pour everything into the game, you couldn't stop your mind from drifting. Every time Alexia touched the ball, every time you caught her in your peripheral vision, it was like a weight pressing down on your chest. Heavy and restricting.

It wasn't that you wanted to be with her again. At least, you didn't think so. Things with Leah were good—great, even. She was everything you'd ever hoped for in a partner: kind, funny, supportive, and so easy to love. But seeing Alexia again brought back all the memories you'd worked so hard to bury. The good times, the bad times, and everything in between.

At one point in the first half, Alexia came close, her quick feet dancing around the ball as she tried to get past you. You stepped in, cutting her off and forcing her to pass back. As the play shifted, her eyes met yours for a fleeting second. There was no smile this time, just a look you couldn't quite place.

It was enough to throw you off, and you missed the call to press higher up the pitch. Leah's voice rang out behind you, sharp and commanding as she directed the team. You snapped out of it, refocusing on the game, but the moment stayed with you.

By halftime, the score was still 0-0, both teams locked in a draw. As you made your way to the locker room with the rest of the team, Leah fell into step beside you.

"You've been quiet," she said, her tone casual but laced with concern.

"Just focused," you replied, hoping it sounded convincing. You knew deep down it didn’t.

Leah gave you a small nod, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before she looked ahead. She didn't press, and for that, you were grateful.

The second half didn't get any easier. Barcelona came out stronger, pressing higher and creating more chances. You found yourself locked in a constant battle with Alexia in midfield, each of you pushing the other to your limits. It was both exhilarating and exhausting. Alexia had always been one of the most intelligent players you'd ever faced, and going up against her reminded you of why she was considered one of the best in the world.

But it wasn't just her skill that got to you. It was the way she played with that same passion and fire you'd fallen in love with. The way her voice carried across the pitch as she encouraged her teammates. The way her eyes lit up when Barça came close to scoring.

It was all too much.

By the time the final whistle blew, the score was still tied. A hard-fought draw. Both teams had left everything on the pitch, and as you made your way through the post-match handshakes, you felt the exhaustion settling in.

And then you reached Alexia.

She extended her hand to you, her grip firm yet gentle. "Good game," she said, her English accented but clear.

"Yeah, you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Her hand lingered in yours, her eyes searching yours as if she wanted to say something more. But then someone called her name, and the moment passed.

The locker room was a blur of noise and activity as the team celebrated the hard-earned result. Leah was in the center of it all, her laughter and energy infectious as she joked with the others.

You tried to join in, tried to match their enthusiasm, but your heart wasn't in it. Eventually, you slipped away, retreating to a quieter corner of the room.

Leah found you a few minutes later, her expression softening as she sat down beside you. "Hey," she said gently. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "Well, you were brilliant out there," she said. "Just so you know."

You leaned into her touch, letting her warmth and words wash over you. For the first time since the match ended, you felt a small sense of peace.

But as much as you wanted to believe Leah's words, as much as you wanted to focus on this moment, your mind kept drifting back to Alexia. To the way she'd looked at you, the way her smile had stirred something deep inside you. It made you feel so incredibly guilty because Leah didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to feel second best.

For the first time in months, you found yourself wondering if you'd ever truly be free of her.

You sat at your kitchen table, staring blankly at the untouched cup of tea in front of you that you'd made at least an hour ago. The London skyline stretched out beyond the window, but it did little to calm the storm inside your head. It had been two weeks since the match against Barcelona, and yet, Alexia hadn't left your thoughts.

You had tried—really tried—to push her from your mind. You'd thrown yourself into training, focused harder than ever during matches, and spent as much time as possible with Leah. But no matter what you did, Alexia was still there. The memory of her smile in the tunnel, the way her eyes had lingered on yours for just a little too long, haunted you.

Had you made the right decision leaving Barcelona? Leaving her? Getting into a relationship with Leah before you’d truly had chance to heal? All because you didn’t want to be alone? You cared about Leah. Truly, you did. She made you feel good, and she was funny, and sweet, and so so kind. But did you really love her? Or did you just think you did, because you so badly wanted that to be the case? Or was she just a distraction? Something to hide behind so you didn’t have to face the truth?

The questions gnawed at you, refusing to let go. When you'd made the decision to transfer to Arsenal, it had felt like the only option. Your relationship with Alexia had become a shadow of what it once was—distant, strained, and suffocating. You had convinced yourself that leaving was the best thing for both of you. And it had been, at first. But now, you weren't so sure.

Had you given up too easily? Or were you just overthinking everything because seeing her face again after so long apart had all but thrown you off balance?

Training that morning was grueling, but not because of the drills or the pace. Your mind was elsewhere, and it showed. You missed passes, lost focus, and trailed behind during sprints. Jonas called you out on it more than once, his sharp tone cutting through the fog in your mind.

"Focus!" he barked after you fumbled yet another touch. "If your head's not here, you're no good to anyone!"

You nodded mutely, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from snapping back. He was right, of course. But knowing that didn't make it any easier to shake off the heaviness in your chest. It quite literally felt like you suffocating.

Leah caught up with you as you trudged off the pitch at the end of the session. "Hey," she said, her voice soft and laced with concern. "Rough day?"

You forced a small smile. "Just tired," you replied, the lie rolling off your tongue with an ease it shouldn't.

Leah studied you for a moment, her blue eyes searching yours. She didn't press, though. Not like she probably should have. Instead, she slipped her hand into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let's grab dinner tonight," she suggested. "Just the two of us. We haven't done that in a while."

You nodded, guilt twisting in your gut. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Dinner with Leah should have been easy. It always was. She was charming and funny, her quick wit never failing to make you laugh. But tonight, even her best efforts couldn't break through the wall you'd built around yourself. You picked at your food, barely contributing to the conversation. Leah noticed, of course, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she reached across the table and took your hand, her thumb brushing softly over your knuckles.

"You've been really quiet lately," she said gently. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, searching for the right words. You wanted to tell her everything, to finally unload the weight that had been pressing down on you for weeks. But how could you? How could you admit that you were thinking about your ex more than you should? That you were questioning everything about your life and your choices?

"I'm fine," you said finally, forcing another smile. "Just a lot on my mind."

Leah's gaze lingered on you, her expression soft but full of concern. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Of course," you said quickly. "I know."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

That night, as you lay in bed beside Leah, your mind wandered again. You couldn't stop thinking about Alexia—about the life you'd left behind in Barcelona.

You'd loved her. God, you'd loved her so much it hurt. And for a long time, you'd thought she was it. Your forever. The one person who truly understood you in a way no one else ever could.

So why hadn't you tried harder to save it?

The question burned in your mind, keeping you awake long after Leah had drifted off beside you. Had you been scared? Had you been so afraid of watching your relationship crumble that you'd run before it could?

Or had it simply been too far gone to save?

The next few days passed in a blur. You went through the motions—training, matches, spending time with Leah—but it all felt hollow. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were somehow stuck between two worlds and you couldn't escape either.

It wasn't fair to Leah. She deserved someone who was fully present, someone who could give her the love and attention she deserved. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't give her that. Not when your heart and mind were still tangled up in Alexia.

You hated yourself for it.

Leah was perfect in so many ways. She was kind and caring, always putting others before herself. She made you laugh, even on your worst days, and she had a way of making you feel safe and valued. So why couldn't you just be happy with her? Why wasn't she enough?

One evening, after another restless night, you found yourself scrolling through Alexia's Instagram again. You hated that you couldn't seem to stop. Every photo felt like a punch to the gut—a reminder of the life you'd left behind. There she was, smiling with her teammates, celebrating yet another win. There she was with her family, the people who had welcomed you so warmly during your time in Barcelona. And there she was, looking as beautiful as ever, her smile brighter than the sun.

She looked happy.

The realization hit you like a train. Alexia was happy. She was moving on, living her life without you. And as much as it hurt, you knew you couldn't begrudge her that.

But what about you?

Were you happy?

The answer was painfully clear.

It took you four days to summon the courage to talk to Leah. The thought of hurting her, of shattering the trust and connection you'd built over the past few months, made you sick to your stomach. But you knew it was the right thing to do. It wasn't fair to lead her on. To pretend like you were happy when in actual fact it felt like you were drowning. As you sat together on the couch together, you finally found the words.

"Leah," you began, your voice audibly trembling. You hated that you already sounded so pathetic.

She turned to look at you, her brows furrowing in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

Her expression shifted, the worry in her eyes deepening. "Okay," she said softly. "I'm listening."

You hesitated, searching for the right words. "I care about you," you said finally. "I really do. And I've loved being with you these past couple of months. But..."

Her face fell, and your heart shattered at the sight. Here you were, yet again breaking someone's heart.

"But I don't think I'm in the right place to be in a relationship right now," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was ready, but I'm not. And it's not fair to you."

Leah was silent for a long moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Is this about Alexia?" she asked finally, her voice steady but quiet. It was as though she knew she couldn't change your mind. You longed to reach out and take her hand. Hug her. Anything. But it felt selfish to do so. And so you just sit, trembling hands clasped together on your lap.

You looked down at your hands, unable to meet her gaze. "Partly," you admitted. "But it's not just about her. It's about me. I need to figure out who I am and what I want, and I can't do that while I'm still carrying so much baggage from my past."

Leah nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I understand," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I don't like it, but I understand."

You reached for her hand then, your heart aching as she allowed you to hold it. "You mean so much to me," you said, your voice breaking. "And I'm so sorry."

She gave you a small, sad smile. "It's okay," she said. "I'll be okay."

You wanted to believe her, but the pain in her eyes told you otherwise.

That night, after Leah had left, you sat alone in your apartment, the weight of your decision crashing down on you. It was the right thing to do—for both of you—but that didn't make it any easier.

The days after ending things with Leah felt like you were moving through molasses. Time passed, but you hardly noticed. Training sessions were a blur of drills and matches that you barely registered. You showed up, you worked, and you left, barely engaging with anyone. Your teammates were kind, supportive, but you couldn't shake the distance you kept from them—or from yourself.

Leah was polite, as professional as ever, but the warmth that used to mark your conversations had been replaced with a cool hesitance. You couldn't blame her. You had ended things, after all. She deserved space to process. But the tentative exchanges between you only deepened your sense of isolation.

The others noticed, of course. How could they not? Beth's concerned glances, Viv's quiet observations, and Katie's half-hearted jokes in an attempt to cheer you up didn't go unnoticed. But you didn't know how to let them in. How could you explain that it wasn't just about Leah? That it wasn't just about Alexia?

It was everything.

You felt like a ghost of yourself. Your apartment felt like a prison, cold and empty, and the silence within its walls was almost deafening. Tasks that once seemed simple—cooking, cleaning, even eating—felt monumental. Most nights, you picked at something small and crawled into bed, waiting for sleep to take away the ache of loneliness.

After a particularly grueling training session, you sat alone at your cubby, pulling off your boots. Your body was exhausted, but your mind refused to quiet down. The other players chatted and laughed around you, their voices blending into white noise.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice someone approaching until a throat cleared softly above you. Startled, you looked up to see Leah standing there, her arms crossed and expression guarded.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and hesitant.

"Hey," you replied, equally cautious.

There was a long pause, the kind of silence that felt heavy and awkward. Leah shifted on her feet, looking like she wanted to bolt but was forcing herself to stay.

"Uh... Beth and Viv are having dinner at theirs tonight," she said, finally breaking the silence. "They wanted me to ask if you'd like to come."

Your first instinct was to say no. The idea of being in a social setting, of pretending to be okay when you felt anything but, was overwhelming. You opened your mouth to decline, but Leah spoke again before you could.

"Beth insists," she added, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

You glanced across the locker room to where Beth was sitting at her cubby. She was already looking your way, her smile warm and encouraging. It was clear that Leah had been sent as a messenger, and you felt a pang of guilt at the realization. They were trying to include you, to pull you out of whatever shell you'd retreated into.

After a long moment, you nodded. "Okay," you said quietly.

Leah gave a small, almost relieved smile. "Good," she said. "We'll head over after showers."

Beth and Viv's house was cozy and welcoming, filled with the smells of cooking and the sounds of music playing softly in the background. It was the kind of warmth you hadn't felt in a long time, and it took you by surprise.

"Hey, there she is!" Beth greeted you with a grin as you stepped inside. She pulled you into a quick hug, her energy so infectious you couldn't help but hug her back. "Glad you could make it."

Viv appeared behind her, offering a quieter but no less genuine smile. "Dinner's almost ready. Make yourself comfortable."

You followed Leah into the living room, where a few of the other girls were already lounging on the couch, chatting and laughing. It was hard not to feel out of place, but Beth's relentless cheerfulness made it a little easier. She handed you a drink and dragged you into a conversation, refusing to let you sit quietly on the sidelines.

For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself relax.

Dinner was lively and filled with conversation about anything and everything, much of it thanks to Beth's sharp wit and Viv's occasional dry humor. The food was delicious, and you found yourself eating more than you had in days.

At one point, Leah caught your eye from across the table. She smiled—small and tentative, but genuine—and you felt a flicker of something you hadn't felt in a while: hope.

The evening passed more quickly than you expected. By the time you left, your mood had lifted ever so slightly. It wasn't a cure-all for everything you were feeling, but it was a start, at least. And for that you were grateful.

The next day, Beth cornered you in the locker room before training.

"So," she began, leaning casually against the bench. "You survived dinner."

You laughed softly. "I did. Thanks for inviting me."

Beth grinned. "Anytime. But seriously, don't be a stranger. We're a team, you know? We're here for you."

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.

"Thanks, Beth," you said quietly.

She nods, reaching out to squeeze your arm before heading to her cubby to change for training.

Two months had passed before could really process it, and while the adjustment to being alone again was difficult, you were doing your best to move forward. Slowly but surely, life in London away from the home you'd once known began to feel less overwhelming.

You made a conscious effort to bond with the team. Game nights became a weekly tradition you found yourself looking forward to, even if you weren't the most competitive player off the pitch. Coffee outings after practice gave you a chance to connect with your teammates on a more personal level, and you were surprised at how much you enjoyed their company.

Beth, in particular, became your closest friend. She had a way of talking that was infectious, filling the silences you used to find suffocating. Being around her was easy—she didn't let you slip too far into your own head, and she never made you feel like a burden. Instead, she seemed to know exactly when to step in and distract you. You started spending more time with her than anyone else, gravitating toward her warmth and energy. And Beth, as perceptive as she was, never pushed you away. It was like she understood that you needed her company as much as she needed yours.

Things with Leah had also improved. The initial awkwardness and hurt that hung over you both after the breakup were beginning to fade. Slowly but surely, a tentative friendship began to form. It wasn't perfect—not yet. You still hadn't spent time alone with her, unsure if you trusted yourself not to mess things up again. But there was hope, a mutual understanding that you could reach a place of real friendship eventually.

Sometimes, late at night, you wondered if things would've worked out with Leah if it hadn't been for that match against Barça. Seeing Alexia again had reopened wounds you thought were healed, stirring feelings you weren't prepared or had any intention of dealing with.

But London was your home now, and you were finally beginning to accept it. Your life was here, not in Barcelona.

One evening, as you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, a notification dropped down from the top of your screen.

Alexia: Hey

Three letters, no context.

You stared at the message for what felt like an eternity. Your stomach twisting and your mind racing with questions. Why now? Why after months of silence?

You didn't reply, but the message was impossible to ignore. It lingered in the back of your mind, tugging at your thoughts throughout the next few days. You found yourself spiraling again, replaying old memories and spinning yourself into an endless cycle of what ifs.

Beth noticed first.

It was during a coffee outing after training. You'd been quiet, your mind elsewhere, and whilst Beth had initially been patient, she finally called you out.

"Alright," she prefaces, setting her cup down with a soft thud. You look up from your own cup at the sound, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's going on? You've been weird the past few days."

"I'm fine," you said automatically, but Beth raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that." She rolled her eyes. "Something's up. Tell me."

You hesitated, torn between wanting to open up and not wanting to drag her into your mess. But Beth had a way of pulling the truth out of you, and you knew it was only a matter of time until you break.

"It's nothing," you said finally, trying, yet failing, to sound convincing. "Just... in my own head a bit."

You could tell by the look on Beth's face that she didn't buy it. You knew that would happen, really, but deep down you wished she wasn't so damn perceptive. "You're always in your own head." She gave you a nudge with her foot under the table. "But this feels different. Spill."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It's..." you trail off, and Beth nodded, silently encouraging you to continue "it's Alexia." You admit.

Beth's expression shifted, her teasing demeanor replaced by genuine concern. "What about her?"

"She texted me," you admitted quietly. "Just a simple 'hey.' But it's messing with me and I don't know why."

Beth leaned forward in her seat slightly. "Have you replied?"

"No," you shake your head. "I don't even know what to say. Or if I should say anything at all."

Beth nodded, giving you a moment to gather your thoughts.

"What do you want to say?" she asked finally.

You shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Part of me wants to ask her why she reached out. Part of me thinks I should ignore it and move on. And part of me..."

Beth tilted her head, waiting.

"Part of me misses her," you admitted, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Beth didn't judge or offer unsolicited advice. Instead, she reached across the table and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Give it a few days. Think on it, yeah? Don’t reply because you feel like you have to."

You run your hands over your face before letting out a deep sigh, eyes drawn to the loose granules of sugar that had spilled onto the table your drinks rested on. "I've left her on read for over forty eight hours," you murmured. "What if-"

"No," Beth shook her head, and you look up at her, surprised at the firmness of her voice. "She'll understand why you haven't answered straight away. It's been, what? Nearly a year since you left her? Left Barcelona?"

You nod, the tightness in your chest returning.

"She can't expect you to not have mixed feelings about this whole thing. Nearly a year apart. Months since you'd last talked. She's gotta give you a bit of leeway. I'm sure she'd feel the same if the situation was reversed and it was you who texted her."

You nod again, knowing was right.

"Give it time," she reached over and squeezed your hand again. You return the gesture. "If they're meant to, things will work out."

You sighed lightly as you picked up your coffee. The cup was cold now, and so was the liquid inside, but that doesn't stop you from taking a sip anyway despite the immediate complaint from your tastebuds.

Beth simply grinned. "That was gross, wasn't it?" She gestured to your cup, and you finally allow yourself to laugh as you set the cup down.

"Oh yeah. Disgusting." You agreed, eternally grateful she'd managed to change the subject without really trying.

Leah was the next to notice.

It was during training, and you were distracted again, your passes sloppy and your focus clearly elsewhere. Leah pulled you aside during a water break, her expression unreadable.

"Hey," she said softly, giving you a gentle nudge with her elbow.. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lied as you dropped your water back into the cooler, but Leah simply raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing you.

"You're not," she said matter-of-factly. "What's going on?"

The last thing you wanted was to talk about Alexia with Leah. It felt wrong, considering everything that had happened between you two. But Leah's concern was genuine, and you couldn't bring yourself to brush her off completely after trying so hard these past few months to make things right with her.

"It's complicated," you said finally.

Leah crossed her arms, waiting patiently.

"Leah, I'm not sure if-" you try, but she cut you off.

"Listen, we're friends yeah?"

You nodded immediately. "Yeah, of course, but-"

"And friends tell each other stuff," she cut you off again. "Even the difficult things." She adds.

"I know," you look down at your boots. They were still caked in mud after yesterday's practice in the rain, the chore of cleaning them completely forgotten in your haste to make dinner. "I know that." You look up again. "Really, I do. But..." you cut yourself off this time.

"But...?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Leah," you admit. “We've worked hard to make this friendship work after everything and the last thing I want to do is ruin that by..."

"By what?" Her voice was quieter now. Gentle.

"By talking about my ex." You finally bring yourself to say.

"Ahh," Leah said. "So this is about Alexia."

You nodded, guilt churning your stomach. Suddenly, you feel her hand take your own. You looked up, and you were surprised to see the smile on her face.

"We were friends before we were anything else, y'know. In fact, I'm pretty sure we were friends for longer than we were together, especially if you count after the fact. Which I do, by the way." She squeezed your hand.

Your lips quirked up just slightly.

"And as your friend," she punctuated that with another squeeze. "It's within my rights to demand you tell me whats wrong."

"Demand?" The quiet laughter that escaped your lips was a surprise to you both.

"Damn right," she grinned, finally dropping your hand and crossing her arms against her chest. "So tell me, what's going on."

You hesitated for a second, raising an eyebrow to silently ask if she was sure. Leah just sighs exasperatedly as she gives you another nudge, and you take that as your cue.

"She texted me out of the blue, and it's... it's thrown me off."

Leah didn't flinch or show any sign of discomfort. Instead, she smiled just slightly, tilting her head to the side.

"What did she say?"

"Just 'hey,'" you said, shaking your head. "But apparently three letters are enough to mess with my head."

Leah's hummed. "Do you want to talk to her?"

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I don't even know what she wants. Or why she's reaching out now, after so long.”

Leah was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes, the only way to stop overthinking is to face it head-on."

Despite the seriousness of her words, you couldn't help but joke a little in spite of yourself. "Since when were you so wise?" You teased.

Leah's mouth parted in shock as she placed a hand to her chest in mock hurt. "'scuse you, I've always been wise thank you very much."

"You have?" You tilted your head to the side. "I must have amnesia or something because I definitely don't remember it being that way."

Leah scoffed. "Amnesia she says. That's it. You've asked for it now." She rolled up her none existent sleeves, and you take a few steps backwards in preparation to run. Seconds later, she lunged at you, and you couldn’t help the squeak that escaped your lips as you trip over your own feet in your haste to escape.

That night, you sat on your couch, staring at Alexia's message again. Your finger hovered over the keyboard, your mind a giant mess of conflicting emotions. Should you text her? It felt wrong not to do so considering she'd been left on read for nearly four days. But had it been too long? Had too much time passed? Was your chance gone?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed out a reply.

You: Hey. How are you?

It was simple, cautious. You didn't expect a response right away, but your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Alexia: I'm okay. I just... I wanted to check on you.

Your heart clenched. You typed back before you could overthink it.

You: I'm fine. London's good.

Her next reply was slower, as though she was choosing her words carefully.

Alexia: I miss you.

You stared at the screen, the weight of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Did you miss her too? Of course, you did. You always had. But was that enough to reopen this chapter of your life after it had crumbled so badly the first time?

For now, you didn't reply.

The following days were a blur of confusion and who knew what else. You opened up to Leah again, despite your initial hesitation to do so the last time. Thankfully, she didn't seem to mind, especially when you treat her to lunch as a way of saying both thank you and I'm sorry at the same time. As she ate, she listened patiently as you spilled everything—your lingering feelings for Alexia, your doubts about replying to her, and the guilt you carried for how everything had ended in the first place.

"Do you still love her?" Leah asked gently, pushing away her plate and fiddling with the napkin.

The question caught you off guard. Did you?

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I think I do. But I don't know if it's the kind of love that's enough to fix everything."

Leah nodded. "Maybe it's not about fixing anything. Maybe it's about finding closure, for both of you."

Her words gave you a lot to think about.

As the days passed, you found yourself slowly coming to terms with the fact that you couldn't avoid Alexia forever. Whether it was closure or something more, you needed to figure out what this meant, for both of you.

And so, one evening, you picked up your phone and sent her a message.

You: Can we talk?

Her reply came almost instantly.

Alexia: Yes. Anytime.

With a deep breath, you tapped the call button and brought the phone to your ear. The line rang, each sound increasing your anxiety until it clicked.

"Hola," her voice came through softly, hesitant.

"Hi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and you could hear her breathing on the other end. The sound of it was both familiar and strange, tugging at emotions you'd tried for hard to bury.

"How are you?" she asked, breaking the silence. Her English, still thick with her accent, wrapped around the words in a way that made your chest tighten.

"I'm okay," you said, though you weren't sure it was entirely true. "How are you?"

"Good," she replied, though her tone didn't sound convincing. "Better... now."

You didn't know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet, letting the awkward silence stretch between you both. Hearing her voice again after so long was overwhelming. You'd spent months replaying the sound of it in your head, but the real thing was different. Rawer. More real.

Finally, you gathered the courage to break the tension. "Why did you text me?"

Alexia hesitated, and you could almost picture her biting her lip, trying to decide how honest she should be. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, vulnerable.

"I miss you," she said, the words simple yet heavy.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn't bring yourself to respond. You swallow heavily, before finally…

"I miss you too," you admitted.

The line went quiet again, but this time the silence felt heavier, weighted with all the unspoken things left unsaid between you.

"I want to be in your life," she said finally, her voice quiet, almost pleading. "As a friend, if that's all you can give me. But... more, if..." she didn’t finish her sentence, but you were fully aware of what she’d left unsaid and your heart felt like it was in your throat. You'd known Alexia to be bold, fearless on the pitch, but this wasn't the same kind of bravery. This was her laying herself bare, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly. "Alexia, I've missed you every single day since I left. But we ended things for a reason. We weren't... good for each other anymore. Do you really think we can be now?"

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line, followed by a long pause before she replied.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "But I know I want to try. Even if it's just as your friend. I need you in my life, somehow.” Her words hit you hard, and you rubbed at your temples, trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling in your head.

"Alexia, I..." You trailed off as your hand dropped to your lap, unsure how to finish the sentence. "I just, this is a lot. I don't know if I've even healed properly. From us, from leaving."

"I understand," she said quickly, and you could hear both the sincerity and sadness in her voice. "I do not want to push you. I just... I needed to tell you how I feel."

You sighed deeply as you let her words sink in. She wasn't asking for everything, not yet. Just a chance, and you could give her that, right?

"Maybe... friends," you said finally, the word feeling foreign in the context of your relationship with her. "At least for now. Until we can figure this out. I think we need to talk in person, really talk, before we make any decisions."

"Okay," she said softly, and you could hear the relief in her voice. "Friends, for now."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah. For now."

Another silence settled between you, but this one felt less awkward, less strained. It was as if the first few barriers had been broken, leaving room for something new—something uncertain but not entirely unwelcome.

"I'll let you go," you said after a while, though you weren't sure if you really wanted to end the call.

"Okay," she said, her voice softer now. "Thank you for calling."

"Thank you for texting," you replied.

The call ended, leaving you staring at your phone. You felt raw, exposed, and unsure of what came next. But there was also a flicker of hope—small, fragile, but there.

Life settled into an odd rhythm, with Alexia somehow slotting herself back into your world as though she'd never left. You didn't quite know how it happened—one moment she was just a text on your screen, and the next, she was a consistent part of your life again. It felt strange at first, a little unnatural, but over time, you found a comfortable balance.

Most days, you focused on your life in London. Training and games filled your schedule, but it was the little things that kept you grounded. You spent a lot of time with Beth and Leah. They were easy company, and Beth especially had a way of making you feel lighter.

"You're coming to mine tonight, yeah?" Beth asked one day after training, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "I got Viv to agree to a game of charades. You have to see her impression of a giraffe—it's iconic."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, I'll come. But only if you promise not to let Leah cheat this time."

Beth grinned. "No promises."

Moments like these were the highlights of your week. They reminded you that you had people here, that you weren't as alone as you sometimes felt.

But then there was Alexia.

She occupied a quiet space in your life, a shadow of the past that lingered in the present. You texted almost every day, though the conversations weren't always long or meaningful.

Alexia: Hola. How was training?

You: Good. We had a double session today. You?

Alexia: Hard. Coach had us doing sprints for hour.

Simple exchanges like this became your new normal. They felt safe, like you were keeping her close without letting her in too far.

And then there were the phone calls.

They started innocently enough. Once a week, usually in the evening, one of you would call the other. The conversations were casual—how your days had gone, updates on mutual friends. You looked forward to them. Hearing her voice, even through the awkward pauses and occasional stilted phrases, felt comforting.

One night, after a particularly tough training session, you found yourself dialing her number without even thinking.

"Hola," she answered, her voice warm and familiar.

"Hey," you said, curling up on your sofa, tossing a blanket over your legs and letting out a soft sigh. "How's your day been?"

"Busy," she replied. "But good. We had media stuff this morning, and then training. Now I am cooking."

"What're you making?"

"Paella," she said, and you could hear the pride in her voice. "Do you remember it?"

You smiled. "How could I forget? You always made the best paella."

She laughed softly. "Not always. Remember the time I burned it?"

You did, and the memory made you laugh. "Yeah, and then you tried to convince me it was supposed to taste like that."

The conversation continued, easy and light. But as you were saying goodbye, Alexia slipped.

"Goodnight," she said softly. "I love you."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, you murmured, "I love you too," before ending the call.

The silence that followed was suffocating. You stared at your phone screen, now blank, replaying the moment over and over again.

You did love her. That much you knew. But what did that even mean now?

The next time it happened, you didn't say it back.

"I love you," she said quietly, her voice hesitant, almost as if she hadn't meant to say it at all.

You froze, unsure of how to respond. After a beat of silence, Alexia cleared her throat awkwardly. "Lo siento. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you managed, but your voice sounded distant even to yourself.

She hung up shortly after, and you stared at your phone, guilt clawing at your chest. You texted her later, assuring her it was really was fine, and she replied with a simple Gracias.

But it wasn't fine. Not really.

You didn't know what to do with the feelings that resurfaced every time she said those three words. Part of you wanted to say them back, to dive headfirst into whatever this was and figure it out along the way. But another part of you was terrified—of getting hurt again, of hurting her, of making the same mistakes you'd made before.

So you kept things as they were: tentative, friendly, and painfully unresolved.

In London, life moved on. You found yourself leaning on Beth more and more. She had a way of distracting you from your thoughts, her constant chatter filling the empty spaces in your head.

"You're awfully quiet today," she said one afternoon as you walked to a café after training. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing," you lied, forcing a smile.

Beth raised an eyebrow. "Liar. Is this about her again?"

You sighed, not bothering to deny it. Beth knew enough about your situation with Alexia to read between the lines.

"She texted me," you admitted.

"And?"

"And... we've been talking. Calling, too."

Beth stopped walking, turning to face you. "Okay, but what do you want from this? Do you want her back? Or do you just miss the idea of her?"

Her bluntness caught you off guard, but it was a question you'd been avoiding for weeks.

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I don't even know if I'm ready to figure that out."

Beth softened, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing softly. "Take your time, yeah? No one's rushing you. But don't string her along if you're not sure."

You nodded, appreciating her honesty even if it stung a little.

That night, Alexia called.

"Hola," she said, her voice bright. "How are you?"

"Good," you replied, settling onto your bed. "How's Barcelona?"

"Busy," she said, laughing lightly. "But good. I saw Mapi today. She asks about you."

"Tell her I said hi."

"I will."

The conversation flowed easily, as it often did now. You talked about training, upcoming matches, little things that didn't really matter but still felt important. As the call went on, you found yourself relaxing, the tension of the day melting away. Alexia had always had that effect on you—making the world feel a little less overwhelming, even if just for a moment.

When it was time to hang up, she hesitated.

"Goodnight," she said softly.

"Goodnight," you replied, waiting for the slip that you knew might come.

But this time, it didn't, and you didn't know how you felt about it.

"Sleep well," she said instead, her voice warm.

"You too," you said, hesitating for just a second before hanging up.

When you saw Alexia standing in the arrivals hall at Heathrow, everything inside you stilled. She looked the same as she always had. Calm, composed, effortlessly beautiful. But there was something else now, a nervousness in the way her eyes darted through the crowd, the way her hands fidgeted with the strap of her carry-on bag. When she saw you, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Hola" she said softly, her voice almost lost in the noise of the airport.

"Hey," you replied, stepping closer.

She hesitated, her weight shifting from one foot to the other. You could tell she wasn't sure whether to hug you or not, and you made the decision for her, pulling her into a quick, firm embrace. She melted into it for just a moment before you stepped back, both of you retreating into the safety of polite distance.

"Long flight?" you asked, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and motioning for her to follow you toward the parking lot.

"Not so bad," she said, falling into step beside you. "I sleep through most of it."

The drive back to your flat was mostly quiet. The conversation was polite, surface-level, but it felt wrong, like you were strangers who barely knew each other instead of two people who had once shared everything.

"Do you have everything you need for your trip?" you asked at one point, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Alexia nodded. "Sí, I do not think I will need much. It's mostly meetings. And maybe a bit of sightseeing, if there is time."

You hummed in acknowledgment, but you didn't press her further. You knew her tells too well to believe that this trip was purely business.

When you arrived at your flat, you offered her the guest room to settle into, and she disappeared inside with her suitcase. You busied yourself in the kitchen, reheating the pasta you'd left in the microwave earlier, trying to keep your hands steady as the weight of what lay ahead bore down on you.

When Alexia reappeared, she looked hesitant, like she wasn't sure where to sit or what to do.

"Dinner's ready," you said, nodding toward the small table.

"Gracias," she murmured, sitting down across from you.

The meal was simple, eaten mostly in silence except for the occasional comment about how good it was or how tired she felt from traveling.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. Alexia sat at the far end, her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap. Her eyes darted around the room, as though searching for anything to ease the tension between you. The hesitation in her every movement reminded you of the last time you'd seen her, months ago in the tunnel before the Arsenal vs. Barça match. Except now, the space between you wasn't physical. It was everything unsaid, everything left unresolved.

You shifted slightly, clearing your throat. "We should probably... talk. About everything."

Alexia looked at you then, her lips parting before pressing together again. She nodded slowly. "Sí... I think so, too."

You tried to figure out where to start, running a hand through your hair. "Why did you come here, Ale?"

Her gaze dropped to her hands. "I told you... not only for you. But... you know."

Your lips quirked up at her obvious tell. "You're a terrible liar."

That made her look up, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. "Okay... maybe I come for you. But... I want to see how you are. In person."

"And?" you prompted softly, leaning forward slightly.

"And... I miss you," she admitted, her accent making the words heavier. "I say on the phone, but I miss you more... more than I can say."

Your heart clenched, a familiar ache creeping into your chest. "I miss you too, Alexia. But... we ended things for a reason. Do you remember why?"

Her brows furrowed. "Because... because we are not... how do you say? Good?"

You nodded. "We weren't in a good place. We were barely even talking by the end. Do you think that's changed? Just because we've had some time apart?"

Alexia was quiet for a moment, her hands tightening into fists. "I think... we have changed. I have changed. I think about you every day. And now... I talk with you again, and it feels good. Not like before."

Her words tugged at something inside you. "It feels good because we're not dealing with the hard stuff anymore, Ale. We've only talked about surface-level things. Football, our days, things like that. We haven't addressed the problems we had."

"But we can talk now," she insisted, scooting closer to you on the couch. "I want to talk. I want to... try again."

You sighed, leaning back. "Ale, it's not that simple. Trying again isn't just about wanting it to work. We have to figure out if we even can make it work."

She frowned, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to reach for you but held herself back. "You... you think we cannot?"

"I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. "I really don't. I mean, I still love you—"

"You do?" she interrupted, her voice a mixture of surprise and hope.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Of course I do. But love wasn't enough before, was it? We still ended up falling apart."

Alexia leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she looked down. "Because... because I was not good. Not... not there for you."

"It wasn't just you, Alexia," you said quickly. "I wasn't good either. I shut down when things got hard. I didn't fight for us like I should have."

She shook her head. "No, no... I should have fought more. For you. For us. I... I was scared. Scared I lose you, so I stay quiet. But that... that was wrong."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your heart break a little more. "We were both scared," you admitted. "But fear doesn't fix anything."

Alexia looked up then, her eyes glassy but determined. "So... we try again? No fear this time."

You hesitated, the logical part of your brain clashing with the part of you that wanted so desperately to pull her into your arms. "What if we fail again?" you whispered.

"Then we fail," she said simply. "But at least... at least we know we try. No... regrets."

Her words hung in the air, and you realized just how much you wanted to believe her. To believe that you could try again and make it work this time.

After a long pause, you reached out, your fingers brushing hers. "Okay," you said softly. "We can try. But we have to promise to talk this time. About everything. No shutting down."

Alexia's hand turned to clasp yours tightly. "I promise. No... no more hiding. We talk, always.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And no more avoiding each other when things get tough."

"Sí. No more," she agreed, a hint of a smile breaking through her serious expression.

For the first time in months, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter. You squeezed her hand, and without thinking, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around her. Alexia froze for a second before she melted into you, her arms tightening around your waist.

The week Alexia stayed with you passed in a haze of soft moments and cautious steps forward. Neither of you were trying to rush anything, and maybe that was what made it feel so different this time. There was no pressure to immediately fix everything or pretend like the last few months hadn't happened. You were starting fresh, and it felt... right.

Alexia fit into your small London flat in a way that surprised you. She had her little routines: making coffee in the morning with a focus so intense you'd think she was preparing for a match, leaving her jacket casually draped over the back of the chair despite your protests, and humming softly under her breath as she scrolled through her phone. It was so familiar, yet so new.

You spent most of the week together, rediscovering the rhythm of just being in each other's presence. Sometimes you went out, grabbing coffee or walking through the bustling streets of London. Other times, you stayed in, talking about anything and everything—or just sitting together in a comfortable silence.

Alexia did have meetings, and while she insisted they were important, you quickly pieced together that most of them could have been handled remotely. When she wasn't with you, she was calling someone from Barça or scrolling through emails. But her focus always seemed to shift back to you, and it became clear she hadn't come to London because of work. She had come for you.

On her last full day in London, you decided to introduce her to Beth. It wasn't a decision you'd made lightly, but Beth had been your closest confidante during your time at Arsenal, and part of you wanted her to see this side of your life. Alexia had been such a big part of it for so long, and though it felt strange to merge the two worlds, you wanted to try.

Beth greeted you both with her usual warmth, pulling you into a hug before giving Alexia a curious, appraising glance. "So, you're the infamous Alexia," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

Alexia smiled shyly. "I... guess so. Nice to meet you, Beth."

Beth grinned. "Likewise. Heard a lot about you, you know."

Alexia glanced at you, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "Good things... I hope?"

Beth winked at you. "Mostly good."

The three of you settled into an easy rhythm, and you were relieved to see how naturally Alexia interacted with Beth. It wasn't forced or awkward; it was as if they'd known each other for ages. When Leah arrived unexpectedly at Beth's apartment, though, that quickly changed.

"Leah," you greeted softly, stepping forward slightly.

"Hi," she replied, her tone polite but guarded. Her gaze lingered on Alexia for a beat too long before she glanced back at you. "Didn't know you were bringing... company."

Alexia offered Leah a polite nod. "Hello. I am Alexia."

Leah hesitated for half a second before nodding back. "Leah. Nice to meet you."

The atmosphere was tense, and you felt the weight of it pressing against your chest. "I'll, uh, help Beth in the kitchen," you mumbled, slipping away to give Leah and Alexia a moment to adjust to each other's presence.

Beth cornered you the moment you were out of earshot. "Well, this is awkward, isn't it?"

"Beth," you hissed, narrowing your eyes at her.

"I'm just saying," she teased, her voice low. "You're brave, I'll give you that."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Can we just... not make this harder than it already is?"

Beth softened at your obvious distress. "Okay, okay. I'll play nice. But Leah—"

"I'll handle it," you interrupted quickly, not wanting to dwell on the topic.

When it was time to leave, you pulled Leah aside. You'd been hesitant about how to approach her all day, but you couldn't leave without saying something.

"Hey," you said softly, stopping her just as she was about to head back into the kitchen.

Leah turned to you, her expression unreadable. "Yeah?"

You didn't think too hard about it. Instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her. At first, she didn't respond, but then her arms came up to hug you back, albeit briefly.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"For what?" she asked, pulling back to look at you.

"For everything," you admitted. "For hurting you. For how things ended. For... bringing Alexia here."

Leah's lips twitched into a faint smile. "It's okay. Really. I've moved on."

You nodded, though the guilt still lingered in your chest. "You're still one of my closest friends, Leah. I hope you know that."

"I do," she said, her voice soft but steady. "And I'm happy for you, by the way. If she makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

You hugged her one last time before returning to Alexia, who was waiting by the door. Her gaze flicked between you and Leah, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.

"Ready?" you asked, grabbing your coat.

Alexia nodded, but as you walked to the car, she finally broke her silence. "She is... important to you?"

You glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Leah? Yeah, she is. We're good friends."

Alexia's expression didn't change, but you caught the subtle shift in her posture. "You were... more than friends before, no?"

You sighed, unlocking the car. "Yeah, we were. For a while."

"And now?" she pressed, her voice carefully neutral.

"Now we're just friends," you said firmly, turning to face her. "That's all, Ale."

Alexia nodded, though you could tell it hadn't entirely eased her mind. "Okay."

That night, the weight of her impending departure settled over you both. After dinner, you found yourselves back on the couch, sitting closer than you had at the start of the week. Alexia's hand rested on your knee, her thumb tracing absent patterns through the fabric of your joggers.

"I don't want to leave," she admitted suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at her, a soft smile gracing your lips. "I don't want you to leave either."

She smiled sadly. "But we have to talk. About... how we do this.”

You nodded, shifting to face her more fully. "Yeah. Long distance isn't easy."

"No," she agreed. "But... I think we can do it. If we try."

You hesitated. "Ale, I'm not leaving Arsenal. Not anytime soon."

"I know," she said quickly. "And I... I cannot leave Barça. It is my home."

"I'd never ask you to," you assured her. "But that means we'd only see each other... what? A handful of times a year?"

Her brows furrowed as she thought. "Not so few. We can make time. I can come here, or you come to Barcelona... in breaks."

"And what about during the season?" you asked. "We'd both be so busy. Training, games, travel. How would we make it work then?"

Alexia bit her lip. "We talk. Every day, if we can. And when we cannot... we know we are still together. We trust each other."

It sounded simple, almost too simple. But the determination in her voice made you pause. "You really think that's enough?"

Her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin. "I think... if we want this, we find a way. You and me... we are worth it."

The sincerity in her words made your chest ache. You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes for a moment. "I want this," you admitted. "I want us."

Alexia's lips curved into a small, hopeful smile. "Then we try."

You nodded, opening your eyes to meet hers. "We try."

She leaned forward then, her forehead resting against yours. The moment was quiet, intimate, and filled with a sense of hope you hadn't felt in a long time. You didn't know if this would work, but for the first time, you believed it was worth the effort.

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x y/n #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso appreciation #woso one shot #woso fanfics

440 notes · View notes

a-mint-bear · 7 months ago

Text

Your One and Only

Male Yandere x Reader

He begged you to make him yours, but when he feels his status as your one and only is threatened, he wants a reminder.

Sequel to "Make Me Yours"

Next Jacob story "Taking Care of Him"

[content warning: slightly pretty suggestive stuff near the end]

His name was Jacob.

It was a bit of a funny situation, learning his name only after he'd become your... boyfriend? Lover? You really didn't know what labels to use in this situation, or how any of this was "supposed" to work. But you were enjoying your time together, despite the... odd and intense way the relationship began.

Jacob wanted to move in with you pretty much right off the bat, but it was all a bit too much to jump right into. You would be lying if you said it wasn't tempting...

He really was a near-perfect fit for you.

He was super domestic. He loved cooking for you and all his dishes were amazing. He was a bit of a neat freak, so sometimes when you took your eyes off him, he tidied up your place without you asking. Not that you left it super messy, but he seemed like perfect househusband material.

In public, he was super assertive. He stood up for you and protected you from average jerks and actual threats when you were out together. He took charge and it made you feel oddly loved. Like you were the most important thing in his life.

In private, he was still that man on his knees in the park. He was dedicated, completely and utterly yours... He loved to wear that collar when the two of you were alone, although you had to beg him not to wear it out in public. The thought of it did give you a thrill, though you'd never admit it to him. But because of all that, he started wearing more thick turtleneck sweaters.

Well, for that, and for... other reasons. You were embarrassed of how much he liked to show off your... handiwork.

He was very clingy, and he got jealous really easily, but it wasn't really a dealbreaker for you. You liked the feeling it gave you of being wanted, appreciated, even loved. It made you a tiny bit uncomfortable sometimes due to how new the relationship was, Jacob was very intense with his feelings, but with every day together it got easier to appreciate the weird new relationship you were in.

He was attentive, he loved spoiling you and getting you little things when you were having a bad day. Or a good day. Even a completely neutral day. You actually had to tell him to tone it down a little, as much as you liked it, because your place was small and you didn't have a ton of extra space. His compromise was to start getting you food and snacks more often instead, and it worked out just perfectly.

When a bouquet of a dozen roses got delivered to your office, you got a good razzing from your coworkers but you ignored them. There was no note or card, but it wasn't a stretch to think it was from Jacob. He'd sent other things to your job before, like lunch when you planned to eat out someplace or your favorite coffee order when you had an early morning. It was nice of him, you thought to yourself with a dumb smile on your face.

When you got home, you sent him a quick text.

You watched the typing ellipses appear and disappear, then reappear only to blink out of existence and then, nothing.

He'd never dropped off like that before, but you didn't think much of it. It wasn't until he showed up to your place not even ten minutes later that you started to wonder if something was up.

You opened the door for him. It wasn't uncommon for him to come over pretty much every other day (after you'd talked him down from every day) so you were happy to see him. But he had a weird look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was up, you followed his line of sight to the bouquet in a vase on the kitchen windowsill.

You ask him what's wrong, and his eyes snapped back to yours, like he was jolted out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, I... I'm just happy that you... like them."

The smile seemed a tiny bit strained, but he was back to his usual puppy dog demeanor in no time. He was extra attentive, ordering your favorite takeout, but getting it delivered instead of running out to get it or letting you go get it. He clung to you all night, but it was nice, in a way.

You were rinsing the dishes real quick before you continued binging the series you'd been watching together lately. But when you were drying your hands, Jacob came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You laughed, asking him if he was feeling better, but he just pulled you in closer. You could feel his collar pressing into your neck. His breath was hot, tickling your neck as he mumbled his words of devotion against your skin.

"You're so... perfect." He nuzzled into your neck. "I'm so lucky you let me in... that you let me be yours. Just... I promise I'll be good... I just want to be yours. Please, don't... Don't look at anyone else."

This wasn't his usual lovesick talk. You turned in his grasp to hold his face in your hands. You smiled, telling him that he was yours. He melted, leaning into your touch like he needed it more than everything... Needed you more than anything.

"I'm yours... " he repeated it to himself like a mantra, like it was grounding him to that moment. He needed the reassurance that day, for some reason, but you didn't think much of it.

That same excitement, that overwhelming need to control him, to claim him... it was still just as intoxicating as the day he "proposed". You don't think you could ever get tired of it.

. . .

Jacob had stayed the night, and you'd fallen asleep in his arms. You don't know how long you'd been lying there together before you could just feel that you were half-awake, but too tired to even open your eyes. You just nuzzled into his chest as you tried to drift off again.

You could feel him gently working his fingers into your hair, it felt like heaven, and it got a happy little sigh out of you.

"I've wanted this for so long..." he whispered into the calm of your dark bedroom. He must've thought you were sound asleep. "If someone thinks they can take you away from me..."

He kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment to breathe you in.

"...I'll rip their fucking throat out."

You felt... startled? Confused? But it all felt so fuzzy, like the edge of a dream you could barely hold on to. He said it so calmly, like it was just another sweet nothing whispered in your ear. A promise to you he would make sure to keep.

You slipped back into a dreamless sleep, unsure of what was real.

. . .

Jacob made the two of you breakfast, just like every time he stayed the night. But the whole time you ate he was unusually quiet, his gaze flicking over to the vase of roses on the kitchen windowsill.

You could tell this was getting to him, for some reason. Maybe it was best to just get rid of the bouquet and ask him what he was so worked up about.

When he was washing the dishes, you went to get up from your chair and grab them, wanting to at least put them in another room while the two of you had a talk. But you didn't get the chance.

His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, but he wasn't looking at you. He was staring at the flowers with a burning hate you'd never seen a man have for a plant. His grip got tighter until you hissed behind your teeth, trying to wrench your arm away.

He snapped out of whatever the hell that was, fussing over you.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I-I just..."

This was getting weird and more than a little... off. You told him it was getting late into the morning, didn't he need to get to work soon?

That sent him spiraling.

"No no no... please don't send me away..." he whispered. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he grabbed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I'm still your good boy! Please!" His eyes were wide, almost teary as fell to his knees at your feet, his hands in yours. "Please just... look at me! Only me! I can't..."

You asked him what he was talking about, trying to calm him down. It wasn't working.

"You thought those were from me..." He was practically shaking now, but he almost seemed... angry? You blanked for a second at his words, the meaning behind them not sticking long enough to upset him further. "I mean, roses? Really?? You think I don't know your favorite flower? That I'd give you that garbage?? No, no... I know you so much better than that."

It was true that there were flowers you liked more than roses, but you didn't hate them. But if Jacob didn't send you the flowers, who did?

"Someone wants you... they wanna take you away from me... I just got to be yours! I can't... I can't-"

With a shaky sigh, barely holding himself together, he laid his head on your legs.

"I can't lose you... Don't throw me away..."

Nudging your knees apart, he planted soft, tender kisses trailing up your inner thigh. The drastic swing of competing emotions left you more than a little flustered. A hand on top of his head, you were trying to decide whether to push him off to talk this through or tell him to keep going.

"They can't make you feel good, not like I can... I want to show you my love... my devotion..."

Without warning, you felt the dull, throbbing sting of a bite. You yelped, grabbing him by his hair and yanking him back. But all that did was wind him up more, a strangled, needy moan tearing from his throat. His face was a blushing mess, tongue out playfully like his mind was all but fading.

"Hurt me, p-punish me..." he grinned, looking straight into your eyes. "Make me forget everything else but you..."

You yanked him up by his collar and pushed him to the floor, straddling him. The ideas of wanting to fluster him and wanting to get back at him for his little stunt clashing away in your head. You chose good compromise of biting him back, marking up his shoulder as he gasped, letting out excited little "yes"s under his breath.

"Y-yes, fuck yes... mark me up..." He was practically panting now, he was so worked up you could swear you could hear his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours. He tried to sit up, to get closer. "Show everyone I belong to you..."

You shoved him back flat to the floor again, holding him in place with a hand pressed to his chest. The both of you knew he was strong enough to get free with no problem, but he knew that if he did, you'd stop. You kissed him just under his jawline, so tantalizingly close, you knew it was torture for him.

"Please please please..." he whined, sounding so wonderfully needy and desperate. "Kiss me. I'm your good boy. Make me need you so much I can't think straight."

You told him that he wasn't off the hook yet, and he couldn't help but feel so wanted, so loved. He really was yours, and you could do anything you wanted to him.

"Teach me I belong to you, sweetheart." he bit his lip, pushing his luck and grinding his hips up into you. "Fucking ruin me..."

. . .

Jacob clocked into work late that day, but he was more than happy to join his virtual meeting with a shirt cut lower than his usual turtlenecks, showing off his new marks to the coworkers. He pretended he didn't realize any of them were visible. He wanted them to see. What was the point of you marking him up if he couldn't show it off from time to time? Just enough to chase off anyone dumb enough to think about trying to flirt with him.

He still didn't know who'd sent you those goddamn roses, but he had calmed down, for now. He didn't want to do anything to make you hate him. Whoever it was, they were safe for another day.

-----------------------------------------------

i hope y'all like this one, i don't think i'll be bold enough to post anything more graphic than that anytime soon, lol

Jacob is his name, being your good boy is his favorite game 🩵

im in the (very slow) process of moving so my brain has been fried between packing, apartment hunting and a few days of video games until 3 am to help pass the time. i have one speed for hobbies lol

can you tell that my adhd meds are out of stock? now im writing to pass the time and it feels a lot more productive than Fallout 4 into the wee hours

i think i will post a poll soon so yous guys can vote for the next story i write. but my inbox is always open for suggestions too. tho you should see the notes in my phone, its like 11 different ideas lol

#y'all love yur subby yanderes #yandere #male yandere x y/n #male yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere x reader #male yandere #subby yandere #Jacob #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #minty writing

859 notes · View notes

tsumuus · 6 months ago

Text

first date headcanons | my hero academia

a/n these are just some ideas on how i personally think these characters would ask you out on a date + the actual date. not proofread

characters izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki

masterlist

izuku midoriya

spend a while preparing before asking you out

seeking advice from friends like uraraka or iida

they would encourage him to just be himself

he'd want the setting in which he does to feel special but not too overwhelming

determined yet still a bit nervous

lowk see him just writting a letter

it would be neat and you can tell how much thought went into it

for the actually dtae

he'd take into account your interests and preferences

super organized

it would be something casual yet fun

like a walk in a park

or visiting a cafe

any kind of place with a relaxed environment in which the two of you could both talk and get to know each other better

like prepare a small picnic at a nearby park

he'd bring homemade sandwiches and snacks

he;d be slightly embarssed but proud of his effort

pick a spot in the park in which you could lay a blanket down and just watch the sunset

he loves to make you smile

and all the little things he does like pick up a dandelion for you to make a wish, tuck your hair behind your ear, or just the sweet words can;t help but make you smile

once the suns set he'd suggest a quick stroll through the city, enjoying the lights and the atmosphere

he'd more at ease by this point

and holds your hand if youre comfy w it

on the walk back he would immediately ask if you guys could hang out again soon

katsuki bakugou

honest and straightforward

doesn;t beat aroudn the bush

he's confident, and if theres any ounce of nervousness in him you wouldn;t be able to tell

but his usual brash demeanor would slightly soften

but he's still direct

he'd do it when youre alone

he'd pull you aside, away from others, to avoid making a scene

makes it clear that he's serious about this

his way of thinking is simple

he likes you and wants to spend time with you, no need to complicate it

would prefer a lowkey setting for the date, rather than flashy activities

like just hanging out in one of your dorms would be enough for him

but he knows you deserve more than that

but he still focuses on just spending time with you

getting to know each other in a relaxed setting

given his competitive nature, maybe go to a small and lowkey bowling alley with a small arcade

preferably one thats not well known and popular

he'd enjoy the challenge in the activities and the chance to see your playful side

don't think he'd let you win, he'd a try hard and will attempt to beat you at everything

throughout the date, he would show subtle protective gestures

like walking on the side of the sidewalk thats closer to the road

ugh what a man

while he may not be the best with words, he would engage in all your conversations with honesty and openness

during quiet moments, where he lets his gaurd down, you get to see a glimpse of his geniune personality

on the way back to the dorms, as he asks to see you again, he'd be less gruff but still determined and direct

hes serious about you

as you say goodbye, he can;t help but linger outside your dorm for a little

his expression soft with a small smile

shoto todoroki

would take him a while to even realize he liked you lol

but when he does

he's calm about it

yet he still takes some time to reflect on his feelings

ensuring that he truly does want to take this next step

he wants to make sure that this is 100% the right move for the both of you

would choose a quiet, private moment to ask you out

he values sincerity and wants to ensure you are comfortable

he'd appraoch you with gentleness that reflects his sincerity

he would be calm and genuine, showing his true intentions

his idea of a perfect first date is simple get elegant

he'd suggest starting the date off with a walk in a garden or park

someplace that would likeley have no distractions that takes away his time with you

after the walk

he'd take you to a charming little tea place

the calm atmosphere allowing for deeper conversations between you both

he wants to learn everything about you that he doesn;t already know

whether thats going on for hours about your favorite books, music, hobbies

he wants to share parts of his life that are meaningful to him ofcourse, but would rather learn about you first

there would be quiet moments throughout your date, but he enjoys those

he seems to enjoy your presence more than anyone elses

if its chilly he'd offer you his scarf or jacket

his actions speaking volumes about his caring nature

he's the best listener

he values your guys connection and is eager to learn more about you

as the day comes to an end and you two walk back to the dorms, your conversations continue

what he has with you is completely new to him

he's never wanted to get to knwo someone more than he has with you

and he expresses this clearly when asking about your availability for future dates

330 notes · View notes

remlionheart · 10 months ago

Note

Can you do a Chuuya x fem reader where her bra can be shown from her white shirt?

pov: you request a simple spicy lil fic from me, but my manic brain is physically incapable of not giving it an entire backstory and plot and making it at least 4k+ words (thank you so much for this idea tho, it was super fun to write! ღ)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ My first attempt at Chuuya smut (and goddamn, do I love that angry lil man ★~(◡‿◡✿). New to the city, you're coerced into working for the PM after a drunken night out. Scared and now in the heart of one of Japan's most notorious criminal organization's headquarters, you decide to reclaim some of your power by ~*teasing the absolute fuck out of Chuuya Nakahara~*. 4.8k words. Porn with a plot. I can't even lie, this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet while writing, lemme know whatcha think. luv u ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you'd first moved to Yokohama 2 months ago, you had promised your parents that you'd be safe. That you'd find yourself a decent office job to afford you a lofty apartment and that you'd be settled in relatively quickly. You'd pictured yourself walking amongst tall buildings on your days off. Exploring the city with your coworkers on the weekends. Living instead of just existing in your small hometown.

You thought you had your future all mapped out and maybe you did, but those dreams of normalcy were all but destroyed the night you crossed paths with Koyo Ozaki.

She had noticed you from across the bar, quietly observing the way you'd been drinking by yourself all night. It was odd to see a girl with your beauty and lack of abilities so confidently roaming downtown alone. She wasn't sure if you were brave or naive, but the moment you took a seat next to her to thank her for the whiskey and coke she had ordered you, she realized you were the perfect blend of both.

She'd spent the next hour chatting you up, effortlessly coaxing information out of you without you realizing it. She'd offered you an administrative assistant role for the group she worked for, describing it as a "lucrative" and "underground" organization. You were in no position to say no, especially after spending the last month relentlessly applying to jobs with little to no luck.

You woke up the next day musing about silly things like fate and serendipity as you raided your closet for the perfect first day outfit. You felt like this was your big break. The first stop on the roadmap of adulthood that you'd created for yourself. You ironed a pair all black slacks, pairing it with a white-button up quarter-sleeve shirt, and your favorite suede Mary-Janes. Optimism swirled through your head as you eyed yourself in your bedroom mirror that night. You were determined to be so good at this job.

You showed up freshly showered and prepared when you arrived at the sleek, high-rise building. Ozaki waited for you out front with a rather intimidating dark-haired man who introduced himself as Mori, head of the fucking Port Mafia.

Your anxiety rose with each step you took behind them, quickly realizing that this was not the run-of-the-mill clerical job you had envisioned while hazily chatting with Ozaki over whiskey-neats. This was an underground criminal organization full of some of the strongest ability users in the world. You had absolutely no idea why you were here. Why you'd been selected, let alone trusted, to work alongside these people.

You were given your own small office, equipped with a bare desk and landline phone. Mori told you to stay put, explaining that you were to stay out of sight until further notice. You were essentially there as a cover-up.

Apparently, they'd been scouting for girls like you. New to town and completely clueless. They wanted to bring in a handful of these 'administrative assistants' to help keep up the illusion that this was just another ordinary building in the business district of Yokohama and nothing more.

Mori left you with a curt warning about the temperament of the other Mafia members and a haunting, "Welcome to the team." as he closed the door to your office and disappeared down the long corridor. Your heart was slamming into your chest, your anxiety growing the longer you sat. You were angry. Disappointed in yourself for being such an easy target.

You sat for at least an hour staring at the wall in existential dread, wondering what you'd done to end up here. Wondering what you were going to have to do to get out now that you were here. Even if it wasn't necessarily a "job", it still didn't seem like something you could just casually walk away from.

You were in the middle of the Port Mafia's headquarters and you were rightfully, terrified.

The sound of two muffled voices pulled you away from your thoughts while you froze in your chair, realizing that they were right outside your door.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?"

"No, that's really where they're keeping her. She's going to be a fulltime member."

"A member?" it was the first man again, his voice full of shameless snark and volume as he laughed at the idea. "A Mafia member with no ability? C'mon, Akutagawa. Even Mori isn't that stupid."

"There's going to be more, she's just the first to show up."

Tension crept along your spine when both voices came to a curious stop, one quietly scolding the other before the heavy wooden door began to creak open.

A pair of azure eyes stared back at you, disheveled shoulder-length red hair draping off of one shoulder as he mumbled, "Holy shit."

The taller of the two, draped in a long black coat, tried to pry him away, but he shrugged him off with an irritated. "Chill out, I just wanna introduce myself to her."

The dark-haired man scoffed and continued down the hallway while his ginger companion closed the door behind him, leaving just the two of you looking back at each other skeptically.

Despite his height, he had a powerful demeanor. A blend of apathy and cockiness that exuded off of him as he carefully made his way towards you. "So, you're the new girl, huh?"

Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked back at him, your words suddenly stuck in your throat as his foot made contact with your desk.

You managed a nod, remembering the way Mori had advised you not to engage with the other Mafia members, but what were you supposed to do when you were suddenly locked in a room with one?

"God, we really can't just have one normal day around here, can we?" He sighed, almost seeming embarrassed as his shoulders dropped and he leaned against your desk in the spot next to you. "Stealin' girls out of bars? Tch, the hell are they thinkin'?"

His opposition to his boss' plan made you relax a bit. It was the first time all day that you thought you might make it out of here okay.

He picked up on your apprehension rather quickly, taking his hat off and setting it down before extending a gloved hand out to you. "Chuuya." He said simply.

You stared at him for another moment or two before introducing yourself, trying but failing to mimic his nonchalant tone.

"Hey," He said, lightly nudging your foot with his, "You're gonna be alright. I'm sure this gig will only last for a couple of weeks until they move on to their next big, idiotic idea."

"You think so?" It was the first time all day that you felt like you could breathe.

"Trust me, Mori's plans are always changing. He'll probably cut you a fat check for hush money and then send you on your way sooner than later. Just lay low in the meantime, yeah?"

Your eyes were still locked as you nodded at him again, giving him a feeble, "Okay... Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." He smirked, pulling himself away from your desk.

You watched him pause just before exiting the room. He turned around to face you again, his gaze landing a bit lower than your eyes this time.

"And maybe uh -" If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that you saw a flash of red flare across his cheeks. "Maybe don't wear that bra with a white shirt next time."

Out of all of the anxiety and fear that you'd been drowning in over the last few hours, your choice of outfit had been the very last thing you'd considered worrying about until just now.

You looked down, noticing what he meant as you saw the dark, lacy fabric of your Victoria's not-so-secret peeking through the white of your blouse. Your tits were pushed perfectly together, nearly on full display through the sheerness of your shirt.

He flashed you another faint smirk before clicking the door shut, once again leaving you to your own crippling thoughts as your head dropped into your hands.

What an absolutely mortifying first day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few shifts were a blur.

You'd clock in. Sit for what felt like an eternity in your bleak little office. Leave mid-day to grab lunch at a cafe across the street. And then head home 9 hours later despite the fact that you’d hardly done anything.

You'd learned to bring in books and cross-stich patterns to keep yourself busy throughout the day instead of rotting away at your desk. It wasn't an ideal situation, but if Chuuya was right and there really was a big check waiting for you around the corner, you'd decided that it was worth it to see this through. Because no matter how nervous you got each morning, the painful truth was that you couldn’t afford to turn down easy money.

By the end of the week, you found yourself doing more than just sneaking in romance mangas to make the job more bearable though. You were doing everything you could to gain back even a semblance of power.

If you had to be here, you had decided that you were going to make it everyone's problem.

With the ginger's words still fresh in your mind, you made it a point to wear darker bras. Tighter blouses. Shorter skirts that barely covered your ass. It had almost become an inside joke with yourself at what a distraction you'd become to the Port Mafia. Maybe couldn’t make these men fear you, but you could certainly make them trip all over themselves any time you entered the building.

You'd hardly been able to keep a straight face yesterday afternoon when Akutagawa's coffee fell from his hands and cascaded around him after he saw you walking down the hall in black knee-high stockings. You'd finally managed to make everyone here as uncomfortable as they'd made you and it felt good.

You were half-way through the iced matcha you'd picked up on lunch, sitting with your feet propped up on your desk as you continued to embroider the word "fuck" in pretty, cursive letters next to a pink and yellow flower when a knock arrived at your door.

You quickly stashed the circular cross-stitch pad in one of the desk drawers and straightened your back as Tachihara poked his head into your office. "Yo, new girl. Nakahara wants to see you."

Your brows knitted together as you looked back at him in quiet confusion.

No one had ever requested to see you in the time that you'd been here. Even in your attempts to disrupt their daily tasks, they'd still not bothered to learn your name. But now... you were expected to go see Chuuya... in his office?

"Why?" It was the only question you could think to ask.

"Dunno," Tachihara shrugged. "but I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's kind of an asshole." And with that, you were once again left alone and anxious.

You took a breath, standing up to smooth down the fabric of your skirt before venturing down the hallway.

You did your best to push Tachihara's warning out of your head, reminding yourself of the kindness Chuuya had shown you on your first day while your heels clicked across the marbled floor.

Maybe he wanted to tell you that he'd talked to Mori and that your time with Port Mafia was finally up. Maybe he wanted to hand deliver the check you'd so desperately been waiting for. Maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing. Whatever it was, you were holding onto hope that there wouldn't be any more bad news.

You let out a sharp exhale as you rounded the corner and found yourself standing in front of his office. You gave the door a light tap, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve when he finally appeared.

His eyes traced over you slowly, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he counted not one, not two, but three undone buttons along your blouse that revealed the deep-purple push-up bra decorating your chest.

"Get in here."

His tone was clipped, dripping with what felt like vexation as he closed the door behind you.

His office was much bigger than yours, adorned with high-rise windows that overlooked the city and pristine black marble flooring that matched his leather furniture. The room was dark, just barely lit by a lamp on his desk. You wondered how it was possible for him to get any paperwork done in here but then promptly realized that with his ranking, paperwork was probably far beneath his paygrade.

Still not entirely sure how to approach the situation, you hesitantly took a seat on the over-sized armchair across from his desk.

"Quick question," he said, standing in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, his voice still riddled with irritation. "What does the phrase 'lay low' mean to you? Because I can tell you right now, this ain't fuckin' it."

Your pupils widened, his words hanging heavily in the space between you.

Your mouth opened and then closed again, too focused on the way he was staring at you to form a proper response.

"Is it -" you wavered, mustering up all the courage you had to try and play this off as innocent confusion rather than what it actually was: sarcasm. "Is it my outfit?"

If looks could kill, you would've been 6 feet under.

Chuuya's eyes darkened, a flustered hand rubbing feverishly over his face as he struggled to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if you were trying to piss him off or if you were just genuinely the dumbest girl he'd ever come in contact with.

"Yes," He said with all the restraint he could possibly manage, his teeth nearly grinding together with each syllable. “The outfits are getting out of hand. You've gotta stop."

You were playing a dangerous game, but you were slowly starting to realize that you were... winning.

"What's wrong with them?" you asked, pretending to cover your chest in embarrassment.

You wanted to hear him explain it. Hear him tell you in his own words that you couldn't wear short skirts anymore because it was causing too many unexpected erections around headquarters.

"I -" The poor redhead looked as though he was going to have an aneurysm if you kept this up much longer.

He snapped his eyes shut and let out a frustrated exhale, his hand now bawled into a fist at his side. "Listen, a lot of the guys around here have... noticed you, okay? And I can't take one more day of hearin' those fuckin' assholes talk about how they caught a glimpse of your ass in the break room. Got it? I'll buy you some new clothes if I have to. Just please, no more shirts like this, alright?"

He was actually bargaining with you. Entering the third stage of grief as he tried so hard to keep his cool. To keep his eyes locked with yours and nowhere else. To explain all of this in the nicest way he could.

It was in that moment that you realized where the real source of his trepidation was coming from.

Hearing his coworkers ogle over you was probably annoying for sure, but the more damning, infuriating fact of the matter was that he was ogling over you too. And he was fucking tired of not being able to get any work done when he knew that you were right down the hall. He was pissed that he had to come into his office every morning and lock the door just so he could jerk himself off to the idea of you.

He was in so many words begging you to stop because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take seeing so much of your body without being able bend you over his desk like he did in his mid-morning daydreams.

He was losing - both his resolve and this game at an alarming rate.

"Hmm," you hummed, toying with a pen you'd found wedged between the cushion of his chair. "Well, I'm sorry. I just like feeling pretty before I come in. I didn't know it was creating such a problem for everyone."

The wheels in Chuuya's head were spinning.

Emotions weren't his strong suit and doing these mental gymnastics with you was making him need a cigarette.

"It's -" he sighed, groaning as he forced himself to backpedal. "It's not your fault. I mean, you do look pretty, y'know. It's just... distracting, is all."

It was hard to hide your smirk.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was a bit distracting himself, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.

"Okay, well," you conceded as you began to stand up. "I’ll wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow then.” You shot him a small smile as you got to your feet, "Promise."

He looked marginally relieved by your understanding. "Sounds good." He huffed, rubbing at the back of his neck while following behind you as you made your way out of his office.

But just before you reached the door, you accidentally dropped the pen you'd been fidgeting with. Bending over without warning so that your ass was right in front of him, peaking out of your skirt as he walked straight into you, his hips suddenly meeting yours.

You thought he might actually kill you this time with the guttural noise of frustration that escaped him.

He grabbed you by your shoulders the second you were upright again, spinning you around so that you were forced to face him.

“Okay, seriously." He said between gritted teeth. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched the unfettered anger flicker through his blue eyes.

It was a stupid move, you knew that before you did it, but you didn't expect it to draw this much of reaction out of him. His restraint was lost. Composure long gone while he waited for you to say something with his face mere inches away from yours.

"Sorry," You lied, "It slipped out of my hand so I -"

"Bullshit." He snarled. "Enough with this innocent act. What do you want out of this, huh? For every guy in Port Mafia to want to fuck you? Is that what you're gettin' at here?"

"No." Your head shook before you even had time to think about what you were about to say. "Not everyone..." Your eyes were still glued to his. "Just you."

You didn't know what you were doing anymore or where all of this recent shamelessness had come from, but there was something about being here that made you feel like you could do anything. Be anyone. You weren't sure if it was the power or the crime or the ungodly amount of money that Port Mafia was raking in, but the collective feeling of chaos that these walls housed was finally latching onto you too.

You didn't even flinch when you said it, instead continued to stare at him unapologetically, noting the way his grip had tightened around your shoulder the longer he looked back at you.

"What?"

If the wheels in his head had been spinning before, they were now fully off the ground, exploding into the air as his gaze drifted along your face. Searching intently to make sure you were actually being serious this time before he went any further.

"You really want me to fuck you that bad?" he asked, the warmth of his mouth now ghosting yours.

The question went straight to your center, wetness seeping between your legs as you nodded back at him.

Truth be told, your midmorning fantasies while cross-stitching the last few days hadn't been much different than his.

The gravity manipulator's fingers were suddenly tangled into your hair, his body forcing your back against the door while his lips collided with yours.

"Y'know you could've just asked instead of doin' all this bratty shit, right?"

His mouth was warm, his movements somehow urgent and careful at the same time as his hands wandered along your curves.

You smiled against his lips, letting out a breathy, "I'm sorry." as his palm began to graze the inside of your thigh.

"No, you're not." He smirked, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. "But you will be."

You let out a small whimper as he placed his free hand under your chin, moving your head to the side so that he could continue his descendent down your neck.

His leg wedged itself between yours, brushing against your clit while his mouth worked along your collarbone.

You were too lost in the feeling of it all to realize that he'd been leaving a trail of meticulously placed bites down the nape of your neck. Bruises in the shape of his mouth that he knew everyone would see.

"Chuuya -" you tried to protest, but it was more of a moan than an objection. "You - fuck, you can't -" You grinded helplessly against the firmness of his leg. Hips rocking back and forth, desperately trying to gain friction while he kept on nipping away at you.

"What's wrong, babe?" he purred against your sensitive skin. "You're wearin' a turtleneck tomorrow anyway, remember?" his breath fanned across your chest as he ripped the remaining buttons off of your shirt. A gloved hand palming at your chest, sliding your bra down so that your tits were fully exposed for him before you felt his tongue glide across your nipple.

Tachihara was right, he was kind of an asshole. But for some terrible reason, you were living for it. Almost embarrassed by how bad you wanted him. Wriggling against him and riding his leg. Whining while you let him leave visible marks on you and destroy the only clothing you had.

"C'mere." He pulled his head away from your chest, swiftly grabbing you by the arm and leading you back to his desk. He picked you up with ease, shoving a binder aside to sit you down in front of him.

"Spread your legs for me." His voice was heady, eyes glossed over with lust as you complied with his demands.

He held his hand up to his mouth, removing his black glove with his teeth before pushing your skirt up and sliding your underwear to the side. He bent over slightly, running two rough fingers along your clit as he watched your nails dig into the edge of his desk.

"Fuck," he groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you. He'd barely done anything and you were already soaked, your pussy practically throbbing for him. “You really do want me that bad, huh?"

“T - told you.” You whimpered, your head tilting back as he drew slow, blissful circles around you.

He kept up the same pace, basking in the way you were so easily falling apart for him.

“Chuuya, please.”

A smirk tugged viciously at the corner of his mouth, slipping a finger into you this time as your walls swallowed him. "Please what, baby?"

You may have had him in the first half, but you were now on the losing end of this game. Forgetting how to speak altogether as you watched him part your legs even further, bending all the way down to rest his head between your thighs.

You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressing against you. The heavenly lines he was drawing uppp and downnn your center with his middle finger still sliding in and out of you. He was generous in the way he handled you, making sure he didn't miss a single spot. Lapping and slurping up every bit of cum he could as he added in another finger. Groaning against you the louder you got for him.

The only word you seemed to be able to remember was his name, repeating it over and over while your nails lodged deeper into his mahogany desk and your body shamelessly grinded against the warmth of his mouth.

You were in a delirious daze, losing yourself completely to the way he was devouring you.

He could feel you getting close too, noting the frantic rhythm of your hips. The gorgeous, fucked-out noises you were making for him. The death grip your walls suddenly had on him. He knew you were right there, right where he wanted you.

"Chuuya, 'm - I -"

Your legs were locking around his head, shaking uncontrollably as your hand ran through his hair.

He'd never admit it, but he almost could've came at the sounds you were making alone. The pouty way that you called out his name each time his fingers plunged into you was almost enough to drive him over the edge. You were so pathetic and adorable and he was determined to make everyone in Port Mafia hear just how needy you were for him.

As much as he wanted to edge you for what you'd done to him, as much as he wanted to make you beg and plead for him to let you cum, he couldn't fucking pull himself away from you. He was just as lost as you were, drowning in your cunt and not at all wanting to be saved.

His tongue didn’t leave you until he was absolutely sure that you'd ridden out every last wave of your orgasm, still pumping his digits in and out of you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He came up for air with an exhausted smile, wordlessly coaxing your lips apart with his thumb before bringing the two fingers he had fucked you with into your mouth. Letting you clean off the blend of slick and salvia the two of you had created together.

"See how fucking good you taste?" he panted. "I think this is gonna be a real problem for both of us."

An enamored shade of pink brushed across your cheeks as he dropped down onto the chair across from you, running a tired hand through his hair.

"At least I won't be here much longer, right?" You said, playfully kicking his leg with your foot.

"Oh yeah," he smirked. "That actually reminds me..." Your eyes widened as he shifted around to dig an envelope out of his pocket. "Mori wanted me to give this to you."

Your hands trembled, opening it as delicately as you could to make sure you didn't rip anything when a check for 1,490,200 yen fell into your lap.

"Think that'll be enough to buy yourself a shirt that fits?"

Your eyes snapped towards him in disbelief, your pulse ringing through your ears as you tried to process that you'd somehow made this amount of money in a little over a week.

"Is this -" You stammered, thinking back to what he had told you when you first met. "Is this like a severance check then? ...Hush money or whatever?"

"Tragically, no. Mori wants you to stay."

Your hand instinctively flew up to your neck, covering the love-bites that the redhead had left you with, horrified at the realization that everyone was going to see them. Even more horrified at the fact that they had probably heard how you’d gotten them.

"What?"

"Yeah, he said somethin' about you how you've been 'boosting the morale' around here."

Your head felt like it was going to explode.

You had not only been marked by Chuuya Nakahara, but you were now being asked to stay in Port Mafia.

You couldn't decide which was worse.

"So... that means..."

"Yep. We'll be seein' a lot more of each other." He confirmed while checking his watch. "But hey, you better get outta here, Rando and I have a meeting in 10 minutes."

You looked down at your lack of clothing, the spit and cum that was still stuck to your skirt, the obscenely noticeable bruises that he'd so proudly gifted you with.

"Give me your shirt." you demanded.

"Nah."

The grin he shot you was so cocky, so vile, so... hot.

"Chuuya." You whisper-shouted, biting back your own stupid smile. "Be so fucking for real right now, I can’t go out there like this.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you put on that skimpy-ass outfit I guess.” He shrugged.

You hopped off his desk, straddling him in his chair as you forcefully began to undo the buttons along his collar.

The room filled with suppressed laughter, neither one of you able to contain it anymore as he finally conceded, wrestling you off of him. "Alright, alright, chill. I have extras in here, hang on."

You both stood up, your eyes locked on him while he walked over to an expensive looking armoire in the corner of the room.

He pulled a white shirt that resembled the one you were wearing earlier off of a hanger and brought it over to you, guiding your arms up so that he could put it on.

His movements were calculated, almost thoughtful as he dressed you, adjusting it so that it covered up most of the damage he'd done.

"There." He said, double-checking his work. "Now get out of here before I decide to rip that one off of you too.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Part 2! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #bsd smut #soukoku #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #remwrites #skk #someone please take my laptop away #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara bsd #nakahara chuuya #bsd x female reader

761 notes · View notes

if-whats-new · 1 month ago

Text

What's New In IF? Issue 31 (2024)

By Aj, Dion, Briar, Jen and Peter

Now Available!

Itch.io - Keep Reading below

If you read the zine, consider liking the post: it helps us see how many people see it! And sharing is caring! <3

~ EDITORIAL ~

Apologies for the delayed Issue!

As you might know, we unfortunately had to delay this Issue due to some personal matters. But as promised, it’s finally here! We wouldn’t want you to miss out on any news.

As this Issue says on the front page, it contains news from November 23rd to November 29th.

But! The Events should be updated to match their status on December 4th, as they are more time-sensitive.

Issue 32 should be released on time. That means two Issues this week!

We want some feedback!

As we’re starting to get a hand of things, we would love some feedback from you guys! What you enjoy, want more or less off, how we could improve... Anything goes! We even have a nifty form.

We hope you enjoy this new issue!

AJ, DION, BRIAR, JEN AND PETER

~ BE A PART OF THE ZINE ~

THIS ZINE ONLY HAPPENS WITH YOU!

Want to write 1-2 pages about a neat topic, or deep-dive into a game and review it in details? Share personal experiences or get all academic?

WRITE FOR THE COLUMN!

Prefer to be more low-key but still have something to share? Send us a Zine Letter or share a game title for Highlight on…!

WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!

Came across something interesting? Know a release or an update announced? Saw an event happening? Whether it's a game, an article, a podcast… Add any IF-related content to our mini-database!

EVERY LITTLE BIT COUNTS!

~ EVENT SPOTLIGHT : Videotome Jam - "Waiting" ~

November 16th to December 1st 2024

Videotome Jam is a two-week-long game jam for games made in any of the Videotome engines with the optional theme of "Waiting".

What is Videotome?

Videotome is a series of small homebrew IF/VN engines made by Freya Campbell (communistsister), an indie game developer focusing on narrative games that are usually:

science fiction, horror, &/or romance

close to 100% LGBTQ characters

free/PWYW with low tech requirements

liable to make players keysmash due to feelings

Videotome was first released in April 2022 as a part of a game entry for the Domino Club collective. The initial idea for the engine was to make writing text-heavy games as hassle-free as possible, focusing not that much on the visual presentation format, but more on the writer's experience. It would allow writers to write in a notepad and then it would somehow grab the .txt file and parse the lines into an array, spitting them out one line at a time as a kinetic novel.

At the moment there are four engines available:

Videotome, for linear, no frills text / images / music;

Videotome ADV, adding a more conventional layout with ignorable choices and branching;

Super Videotome, for more fully featured and freeform image/canvas use;

Videotome Heartbreak, adding a stat raising dating sim & storylets structure to the above.

If you're more interested in the process of making these engines, check out the devs blog post - Words, Friction, Syntax: Stuff I thought about when making Videotome. (The post also includes a very interesting case study concerning other game engines Freya has experience with.)

If you want to check out some examples of projects made with Videotome, take a look at this collection. It includes games made by both Freya and other devs.

~ ENDED ~

The Educational Jam has ended. Check out the thirteen entries and learn something new!

The voting for ECTOCOMP 2024 is officially over! Check out the results!

You can now check out all 16 entries to the Videotome Jam!

Disabled Rep VN Jam has a very simple premise but a very important message. Check out the submissions!

~ ONGOING (VOTING) ~

A Very Hallmark Game Jam has entered the voting phase. You can now vote for your favourite out of the five entries.

~ ONGOING (SUBMITTING) ~

Media depicting healthy examples of polyamory isn’t that common. The PolyJamorous 2024 is trying to break the status-quo!

This year’s Yuri Game Jam is in full progress. The devs have until December 2nd to submit their projects.

Once upon a time, a game jam was held to create stories around the theme of fairy tales… and that game jam is the Once Upon A Time VN Jam. It’s running from October 1st to January 31st.

Concours de Fiction Interactive Francophone 2025 is for all French-speaking enthusiasts. Submissions are accepted March 3rd 2025.

Are you perhaps a fan of more somber, melancholic themes? Then check out the Dying Year - Visual Novel Jam! You have until the end of the year to participate.

The Black Visual Novel Jam is all about working with creative professional developers who work in visual novels to bring more Black stories to life. The goal is to create a space where Black creators can show their unique storytelling through visual novels.

IF Short Games Showcase 2024 is a great way to shine some new light on your projects made in the past year (Jan 1, 2024 to Dec 31, 2024), regardless of whether or not they are previously released! You have until January 15th 2025 to join.

Winter Visual Novel Jam 2024 is here! You have until January 1st 2025 to submit your projects.

Are you familiar with Decker? Then why not take a part in the Deck-Month 2?

Another bitsy jam is here. This time with the theme "better late than never".

~ OTHER ~

PIZZAPRANKS is accepting submissions for their Indiepocalypse Issue #61. If you’re a dev and would like to try out your luck, definitely check it out! Any game is welcomed, not only IF.

~ NEW RELEASE ~

You stand at the edge of a vast and foreboding cave system, its mouth yawning like the jaws of some ancient beast. This is no ordinary cave—it is the entrance to the Caverns of the Forgotten, a labyrinth of twisting tunnels, hidden chambers, and unfathomable mysteries that have claimed countless explorers before you.

Generations ago, invaders brought magic to the Kingdom of Jubai, setting battlemages at the top of the noble power structure and leaving everyone else oppressed. Now, a secret organization of mage hunters has risen up, phoenixlike, to stand against the mages' power and overthrow their rule. Can your secret order of mage hunters save the kingdom, or will internal strife tear you apart in Magehunter: Phoenix Flame (CScript)?

Today is your first day of work here at Toy Maker’s TOY BOX (Ren’Py). Pull apart stitches or rip off an arm or two; we support whatever you must do to ensure that you only save toys of the highest quality. Should you ever feel unsure, there’s no need to panic! Simply toss the trash where it belongs: the incinerator. After all, it’s of the utmost importance that inspectors upkeep the Maker’s image.

You're struggling for friends in a new town and decide to check out a cute diner! — 'That New Diner', huh? Odd name for a restaurant, but I see advertisements for it everywhere. Might as well check it out. Who knows, maybe I'll meet somebody?

What does the glass sound like? Quite tinkly. It crumbled into sand under the feet of all those worried people circling around. As for you, there was darkness in your eyes for a long time. And the glass has melted into silence long since. But what is this place? And who is this stranger standing in front of you? And most importantly, where — or who — did the bullet hit? — Monarch (Ren’Py) is a short visual novel game that was made during Ukrainian Micro Visual Novel Jam in 10 days.

Halloween is a big deal in Port Gillain, steeped as the town is in old folklore and ghost stories. You, the local psychic, regularly attend the festivities. This year, you can bring a friend. The Second Sight: All Hallow's Eve (Twine) is a companion story to The Second Sight: Dead Reckoning.

Your Aunt’s House (Adventuron) is a short story about mourning. @kessielrg

The story centers around Larry, a cab driver eking out a meagre existence in a dystopian near-future, until he unwittingly finds himself centre-stage in the midst of a technological revolution. — For the first time this multi-media project can be experienced in the form of an interactive novel. Larry Folger Volume I contains all the chapters of the ongoing narrative complete with music from the series.

Your feather, my wing is a game about getting close to the object of an experiment that your 'super-secret lab' leads! It's all about fun, fluff and cuddles. Nothing serious and if anyone from the "normal world" came to this organization, they'd be disappointed by the lack of pathos, mystery and seriousness. But do you care?

Nestled at the edge of an ancient forest, Ravenwood Hill looms like a shadowed sentinel against the pale moonlight. This is no ordinary place; whispers of its dark history echo through the trees, carried by the wailing wind. The townsfolk speak of disappearances, of mysterious lights flickering in the mansion atop the hill, and of secrets buried deep beneath its crumbling foundations. In Ravenwood Hill, you are the only one brave—or foolish—enough to uncover the truth.

As always, don't forget to check out the submitted entries to the events mentioned in the previous pages. They deserve some love too!

~ NEW RELEASE (WIP) ~

Iberian Tales (Twine) - Life was once tranquil on the isolated coast of your city, surrounded by a loving family and promising prospects for success in your societal position. However, tranquility shattered as flames engulf your city, escape becomes the only viable option, if luck favors you enough to evade the soldiers blocking your path that is. @iberiantalesif-game

The Thorned Garden (CScript) is a Harem Intrigue game where you can die at any turn. Build up skills and connections to survive and climb the rankings. @opossumfern

Locked in a luxurious but ominous hotel, you are forced to face trials alongside five other people. Who abducted you and for what reason? What does the future hold with different organizations fighting for power over the world? And just how much is at stake when you play a twisted game without rules? Whether you want it or not, welcome to the Threshold (Twine). @thethreshold-if

5 days (Ren’Py) - Every step forward feels like another memory slipping through your fingers and yet, the world moves on — forcing you to find a way to follow, even when it feels impossible to let go.

~ UPDATES ~

As Gods Fall (CScript) released Chapters 4 and 5. @asgodsfall-if

Knight of Greenhaven (CScript) released Chapter 2.

Lost in your eyes (CScript) released part five of Chapter 3 on Patreon. @kathrinesadventures

Saturnine (CScript) added new content to their demo. @satur9-if

The Thousand Of Us (CScript) added new content to their public demo. @ivanwm-05

Weeping Gods (CScript) added new content to their demo. @jcollinswrites

The Summoner (CScript) released a part of Chapter 4.

Ashenmaw - Dragons of Marrowoods (CScript) added a part of Chapter 1 to their demo. @ashenmaw-if

Our Life: Now and Forever (Ren’Py) added Step 2 introduction scenes to their public demo. @gb-patch

Wasteland Pony Express added new content to their demo. @katieaki

The In-Between (CScript) released Chapter 11. @dalekowrites

Crown of Exile (Twine) released Chapter 10 on Patreon. @ramonag-if

~ OTHER ~

350p Adventure has been ported from Infor 6 to PunyInform. You can either download it or play it online in your browser. — (Some interesting trivia: The game is sometimes called Advent, because the system it was created on in the 70s would not allow filenames to be more than six characters long. This game is sometimes considered as the very first text adventure.)

As always, we apologize in advance for missing any update or release from the past week. We are only volunteers using their limited free time to find as much as we can - but sometimes things pass through the cracks.

If you think something should have been included in this week's zine but did not appear, please shoot us a message! We'll do our best to add it next week! And if you know oncoming news, add it here!

~ MAYBE YOU NEXT? ~

We did not get a submission this week. But if you have an idea for a short essay, or would like a special space to share your thoughts about IF and the community...

Shoot us an email!

~ HIGHLIGHT ON ~

A couple of games that we thought were cool.

Your favourite game here?

Do you have a favourite game that deserves some highlighting?

An old or recent game that wowed you so much you spam it to everyone?

Tell us about it! And it might appear here!

WE LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU ALL! WHETHER IT'S GOOD OR BAD, OR EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN...

Have something to say? Send us a message titled: Zine Letter!

As we end this issue, we would like to thank:

our awesome mysterious anon!

all you readers who liked, shared, and commented on the last issue! What might be tiny actions are huge support and motivators to us! Thank you for cheering us on this journey!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And see you again on Saturday!

AJ, DION, BRIAR, JEN AND PETER

WHAT'S NEW IN IF? 2024-ISSUE 31

104 notes · View notes

al222x · 6 months ago

Text

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ abby x reader smut °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

—MDNI + MEN MDNI—

cw: stimulant chocolates(the one that make you all 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂), fingering, oral and abby receiving x reader giving

(tw: unfortunately this is HORRIDDDD writing but it’s no surprise bc i failed english in high school + it being almost 3 am and AND i cannot word/describe how women have sex bc TMI haven’t gotten 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 yet so i apologize in advance for the ending feeling rushed/it not being super detailed)

as you and abby are chilling in the living room watching tv, abby looks up at you as she’s laying on you “hey baby.. you wanna have some fun tonight?”

you chuckle and little as you rub her back “sure babes, what are you feeling like using tonight?”

abby thinks carefully and realizes she wants to try something new but doesn’t know what to try. “fuckk.. i don’t know to be honest.. why do you have an idea?”

you gently get off the couch and run to your dressed in the bedroom, pulling out a small box of chocolate. you come back into the living room and you sit down to show abby the box of chocolate. you explain to her that it’s a special type of chocolate that makes you feel horny over time and makes you more sensitive to any pleasure. she looks excited to try the chocolates. as you both take a piece and eat the chocolates, abby decides to make a challenge. “yknow what… to make this even more exciting, whoever touches the other person loses for the night has to make dinner AND dessert tomorrow night” you chuckle as you’re determined to win. you both shake hands and continue to watch a movie.

as time passes its been about an hour and all of a sudden you can’t focus on the movie. abby and you are sat on the opposite side of each other on the couch so you take a glimpse at her and immediately get filled with intimate thoughts. you bite your lips as you think about all the positions you want to put abby in, you contain your neediness as you see her watching the movie. After a while abby turns to you and looks at you with a somewhat desperate look “is it me or… i cannot focus on this damn movie, fucking chocolates actually worked”.

you laugh as you realize she’s feeling exactly how you’re feeling. you remember her little challenge from earlier and try to not pounce on her. you come up with an idea that’ll hopefully make abby lose the challenge first.

you head over to the bedroom to pick out a cute yet seductive outfit. it’s a dark blue lingerie set that shows off your curves and hugs you in all the right ways. you walk on over to the couch and you sit down to continue watching the movie as normal. abby immediately sees what you’re wearing and changes her posture. “baby you cannot do that to me…”, she says in an almost whisper as her eyes are completely glued on your figure. abby begins to play with her fingers as she starts to feel hot at all the thoughts racing in her mind.

as you see her beginning to play with her fingers, you never necessarily noticed how long and neat they were, you start to get even more dirty thoughts of abby fingering you. you begin to slowly squirm in your seat as you try and focus on the movie. abby tries to do the same thing until she decides to get back at you for pulling the lingerie stunt.

abby begins to slowly put her hands down her shorts to play with herself. you notice her doing so and making noises “hey that’s no fair!” you say in an almost desperate tone. “if you can play dirty, i’ll play dirty” abby says with a cheeky smile as she continues to pleasure herself with her fingers, her toes curling as she extra sensitive down there. you keep your gaze at abby fingering herself as you try to contain yourself. you keep reminding yourself of the challenge and how determined you are to win. as abby keeps pleasuring herself, you can tell she’s extra sensitive by the way she’s using her other hand to grip the sofas cushion and all the whiney sounds she’s making. you start to finger yourself gently and realize how much more sensitive you are than normal. as you and abby keep pleasuring yourselves, you both finish within minutes, as you both finish, you’re both sweaty and panting for air, you can see abby covering her face with her arm as she tries to gasp for air, you decide right there and then that you can’t take it anymore and you crawl on top of her to kiss her sloppily as you sit down on her lap.

when abby feels you sitting on her lap and kissing her, she smirks knowing you lost the challenge/bet. she wraps her hand around your waist to pull you closer to her and uses her other hand to unclip your bra. abby pulls away from your kiss to start to suck on your nipples. shock and pleasure crashes on you as her mouth feels warm and soft on your nipples. you grab her long braid to pull her head away from you, you whisper in her ear “i’m in control tonight sweetheart..”. she whimpers softly and nods. you kiss her earlobe before reaching down to her neck to suck on her neck leaving her hickeys. abby gasps and digs her nails on your waist as the pleasure begins to crash down on her.

after leaving multiple hickeys on her neck, you slowly get off of her and get on your knees while she’s siting on the couch. you take off her shorts and you move her panties to the side as you keep eye contact with her, seeing her get red and squirming without you even touching her down there makes you even more aroused. you put your mouth on her very sensitive and wet pussy as you use your hands to spread her legs, making sure she can’t close them. as soon as abby feels your mouth on her cunt she immediately feels a jolt of pleasure hit her, she arches her back as she grips onto your hair for support. she starts to babble and pant as your tongue keeps reaching into the most sensitive places. “cum for me baby, i want to taste you on my tongue” you say muttering as you keep licking and sucking abby’s pussy. she nods and whimpers as she tosses her head back in pleasure. her legs beginning to close as she’s about to cum and is starting to feel overstimulated, you use all your force to keep her legs open as you keep licking and sucking her off. “c’mon baby you’re so close… cum for me yeah?”. “ah fuck fuck..” abby’s moans getting louder and louder as she starts to see stars. after a couple seconds she ends up cumming on your mouth, her panting becoming ragged as she melts into the couch. you clean her up with your tongue as she calms down. you get up off from your knees to join abby on the couch to rest your head on abby’s shoulder as you both try to catch your breath.

“i want steak with mashed potatoes and strawberries dipped in chocolate sauce tomorrow, baby”

“oh shut up”

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x masc!reader #abby x reader #abby x y/n #lesbian #wlw #the last of us #tlou smut #tlou abby #tlou fanfiction #i love women #smut #i love abby sm help

207 notes · View notes

letters-to-lgbt-kids · 8 months ago

Text

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I have always admired people who have their one thing. People who care deeply about one highly specific cause, people who have deep knowledge about their one niche interest, people who are really into one particular movie…

I just think it’s neat! It’s really interesting to hear people talk about their one thing. There’s also so much comfort in the fact that people can find so much happiness and meaning and purpose in something seemingly random!

Last but not least, it’s also often the people with their one thing who (pardon my language) get shit done. Someone who puts their whole heart into doing their one small thing passionately likely does much more good for the world than someone who tries to constantly give their attention to every single problem everywhere all the time simultaneously. The first one can keep their energy and love for the cause high, the latter probably just ends up burning themselves out.

… and yet, with all this genuine admiration for people like that: I often judge myself for being a person like that.

If you wonder what my one thing is, well, you’re looking at it! It’s writing about mental health and wellbeing in the lgbt+ community. I write this blog. I write books with main characters who are lgbt+ and mentally ill or neurodivergent. I do a lot of research on that topic to base my writing on ,and also just for fun. Even with the music or movies or books I enjoy, I seek out that topic or at least I’ll analyze it with that lens… So, according to my very own thoughts I stated above, I should feel like the coolest guy ever!

But I don’t. I feel embarrassed when people ask about my interests or hobbies. I feel guilty for it not being something you can „turn into a career“. I feel like I’m boring for writing 3 books about the same topic. I feel like I’m stupid for not having multiple passions. I feel like I need to prove my masculinity by having more „male interests“... long story short, I’m being a big old bully to myself about it.

You may be a „my one thing“ person as well or maybe you’re someone with many different interests, or maybe you are someone who has one thing but the thing changes every few weeks. No matter where you stand, we probably have this in common: we can be really mean towards ourselves over things we wouldn’t judge others for. This may be so common because it’s pretty easy to have a distorted perception of ourselves (after all, we notice every single little thing we think or do or say, while in others we see the bigger picture) or because so many grow up internalizing negative messages about ourselves(but not about others).

We set impossibly high standards for ourselves that we would never impose on our loved ones - but we should also be our own loved one. After all, you’ll be the person you spend the most time with during your life. Much better for your closest companion to be a friend than a foe.

So, in this spirit, I’ll try to lead by example: I have my one thing, and that’s super cool of me!! What’s cool about you?

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

250 notes · View notes

lokideservesahug · 7 months ago

Text

Love in 3D

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader. Part of this Mall AU collab with @ham1lton

☆ -idiots in love | fluff | comedy | smau + written ☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Warnings: A teensy bit suggestive at a few points, Logan and reader have crushes on each other but are super oblivious, mention to Oscar + his love intrest in the series (it's like a multiverse!)

Notes: I took liberties with what films were showing so it doesn't reflect their actual release date or showing time irl. A special thanks to @ham1lton for allowing me to be apart of this, brainstorming with me and beta-ing my work (you're amazing and ily <33 :D).

Summary:When you go to the cinema to watch a film that a friend of yours suggested, the last thing you expected to do was to develop a crush on a certain American worker (or be handed an excuse to come back). Or alternatively, when you keep on going back to the cinema, it's because you're just a massive cinephile...right?

Slight prelude here

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Now when a friend told you to visit the cinema because you just "had to see this new film, it's so...you!" you didn't think much of it. You had avoided looking at reviews for it online and excused the visit as a means to treat yourself, especially with how hard you've been working recently. After taking a short journey into the centre of town, you traverse to the movie theatre. You walk through the towering glass doors and are suddenly enveloped by the comforting atmosphere. The low key, warm lighting bouncing off of the harsh crimson furniture in all directions makes you feel almost at home when paired with the low mumble of families waiting to see films and discussing ones they'd just viewed.

The atmosphere almost makes you feel drowsy so unsurprisingly, you wholeheartedly believe you are living a dream when you walk up to the counter and the most gorgeous man ever stands before you. His green eyes meet yours in a friendly encounter and you give him a quick one over. Your eyes scan from the bottom of his worn out, white trainers to his stained, blue t-shirt (was that butter splotched in the middle?) and even to his long blonde/brownish hair - that clearly hadn't been cut in a while as it swoops over his face, making him look like a prince-.

Somehow, your brain manages to coherently string together a thought that isn't focused on the man in front of you as you ask for "One ticket to see ‘Cats’ please." Yet as soon as the words leave your lips, you're back to daydreaming about the innocent cinema worker behind the counter. You've never seen him before because you're sure you'd have noticed. But then again, you were in the middle of town so of course you don't know everyone. How foolish. You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice him softly asking you a question.

Your eyes widen in horror for a moment. Oh no. What did he say? Eager to only please him, you tilt your head and utter out a timid "Yes?" which sounds as confused as you feel. You glance down at his nametag as a means to hide your confusion and are met by the sight of a neat, embossed ‘Logan' in the centre. However, the answer must have been right because the man’s, Logan you suppose, face splits out into a toothy grin and he mutters a few positive sounding adjectives in response.

“Great. I'll get one ready for you now." He drops to a squat and rummages behind the counter as you furrow your brows. Did you just sign up for something? He pops his head back up from below the counter and you give him a small smile (that feels really quite uncertain with your fate. "Can I get a name for the card, please?" You respond with your name and his soft smile and compliment make your cheeks feel warm. He hands the card to you and you feel your breath catch in your throat at the brief contact of his warm fingers on yours.

"Have a great day and enjoy the film." You turn to mush at his sweet smile and begin to long to see only that sight until your dying day. You utter out a small "You too." and at that moment, you finally regain consciousness and want the ground to suck you up. Logan laughs melodically at your slip up which makes you smile at his laughter. "So sorry. I didn't mean that... I was just distracted!" This causes his laughter to die down as he squints his eyes and one side of his mouth curls up as if he was beginning to smirk. You shoot him a small smile and swiftly pivot and speed for an exit this time with a small "Have a nice day. Thank you."

As you finally reach your seat, you look down at the ticket and card he gave you. Huh? The tickets are much cheaper than you expected. Maybe you'd have to come back again sooner (and you suppose the cute workers aren't any deterrent). You place the ticket on the arm rest and your attention is drawn straight to the card he also placed in your hand. This must be what you unknowingly agreed to. You shake your head, cursing (and praising) your mindless state earlier as you look at the month long cinema pass lying in your hands. Well maybe you would have an excuse to come back soon after all.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logan stares at the man opposite him, gently tapping on the counter. The American had never acutely noticed just how non-existent his love life truly is. Well, until he met you, now he finds that every moment when you weren't blessing his shifts to be dull and in his books, futile.

Oscar's words cut through his thoughts. "Well, I think you can try and make it more obvious? I've heard some people give discounts to the customers they really like. Maybe you can try doing that?"

Logan looks down and blushes. "I uh... I've already given her a staff discount." Oscar lets out a slow exhale. "Damn... you never-" "Yeah I know." Logan has only just accepted that he has feelings for the Y/H/C girl, let alone broken work policy... Himself a few weeks ago would have gone into cardiac arrest at just the thought.

"Damn, you must be whipped." Oscar's laugh at the end makes Logan break into his own set of laughter. “Well, no…” Oscar reaches for a roll from the floor to ceiling cupboard and pivots with a ‘Hearty Italian’ roll in his hand whilst simultaneously raising an eyebrow at the blonde man, making Logan laugh in resignation. “Yeah, something like that." The Aussie grins at his friend's newfound carefree nature. It has been a long time since Oscar has seen Logan this happy and the two of them have known each other a very long time. Oscar slices the sub as Logan begins his soliloquy.

“But you don't get it, Osc. She’s just… I’ve never seen such a gorgeous woman before . I mean the other day I told her a joke and she actually laughed.” Oscar smiles and mutters “no way” in the same manner in which you’d speak to a child. “And when she laughed I swear it was a taste of what heaven is like!” Oscar hums in acknowledgment as he mindlessly flicks a handful of ham slices onto the bread. “And last week, she bought some popcorn, which I couldn't charge her for of course, but she had both caramel and butter together. I’ve never met anyone else that does that!” Logan releases a dreamy sigh as Oscar opens the large toaster door and slides the roll in.”She’s perfect Osc. I think we were made to be together.”

"Well," the Aussie begins whilst turning round and getting the sandwich from the toaster. "I say if she comes back then you shoot your shot. I mean who was it that was complaining the other week about their 'truly abysmal love life' ?" Logan looks down and chuckles. "Yeah man I mean it still is that bad but..." Oscar smiles in acknowledgement, he has his own struggling love life and completely understands Logan's dilemma.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You sigh as you fall back on the sofa. “So let me get this straight. You decided that the best course of action was to just go to his work several several times a week.” You turn and squint your eyes at your best friend's words. “Well no but…” She rolls her eyes at you. “But what Y/N/N? Because it sounds an awful lot like you're just trying to deny your feelings for him but still seeking out his company if it's for a few moments.”

You stay silent as you ponder her words. “I'm just worried about you getting hurt from this. I mean he's probably not even that cute.” You shake your head at her. “Oh no, he really is.” She tilts her head with a questioning look. “It's just… He's so sweet. He always helps the elderly customers and is such a gentleman. Oh and don't get me started on how good he looks. I mean his eyes are such a gorgeous, enigmatic mix. And Oh those arms. You should see them when they fle-”

“Oookay. I get it Juliet.” You sigh in longing at just the thought of Logan. “We will put a pin in that for later because there is a lot to unpack there.” You give her a tight-lipped, thankful grin. “So, moving on, did you hear what happened to Melanie last week?” You try to push the thought of your favourite American to the back of your mind as you focus on the latest gossip of your friend. Besides, lack of boy talk should do you some good for once.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Oscar slides the signature sub across the counter. "Thanks, mate." Logan smiles and unwraps the warm sandwich and takes a bite. Logan groans at the familiar taste. "Damn it's not that wonderful mate." Logan shakes his head at Oscar's words. And looks around quickly, piquing Oscar's interest. The older of the two leans forward and speaks in a hushed whisper. "I came in last week and that new employee made my sandwich...." Logan pulls a face that can only be described as depicting pure, unadulterated disgust. Oscar only laughs in response. "It's not funny mate, I didn't know a sandwich could taste that horrible and I have the simplest thing ever!" Oscar shakes his head and sports a distasteful expression at just the thought of his co-worker. But doesnt make any effort to hide the expression as he begins to speak. "Yeah well, at least you have a good meal now." Logan tilts his head "Yeah I guess so." He glances at the clock and curses. "I'm going to be late! Thanks Osc, catch you later." Logan scrambles out of the food court towards the escalator and Oscar is left in historical laughter at his best friend's frenzied, pining state.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

When Saturday roles around, you decide that unsurprisingly, you are going to visit the mall you have found yourself frequenting recently. Surprisingly though, you walk through the doors with good, honest intentions today. You have a film in mind that you are desperate to see and you take a small amount of pride in the fact that you are visiting for the cinema’s true purpose rather than going just to ogle the cute American behind the counter. Over the past few weeks, you have seen a multitude of reruns of old, black and white films, only shown a handful of times all the way to new kids films just as an excuse to visit your favourite worker (not that you'd ever admit that of course).

However, as you approach the counter, eyes scanning all of the workers' space, you can’t seem to find Logan. Instead, you are met by the sight of a slightly older, quite attractive, blonde man (that is unsurprisingly very much taken as you gather from the shiny gold band on his weathered hand). As if he notices your wandering eyes, he asks “Anything wrong love?” Your eyes snap to meet his. “Sorry?” He gives you a friendly smile, “You just look quite distracted, that’s all.” You shake your head. “Sorry I just…” the words seem embarrassing now that you think of them. Oh yeah, sorry sir I only visit because I’ve got a massive crush on one of the workers here and I’m just really upset that you aren't him.

You pull yourself out of your thoughts and address the man - a quick glance down at his name badge informs you that he is Jenson, a senior manager at the cinema. You nearly grin at the sweet badges pinned to his landward, hanging next to the badge; a multitude of film quote badges and oddly a few bakery item pins? How random. You focus your attention back on the man. “Can I have one ticket to go and see ‘Challengers’ please?” Jenson nods and types on the digital keypad in front of him. You reach down and rummage around in your bag to try and find the cinema card (and your payment card of course). When your fingers find the edge of the cards, you pull them out and hold the cards stationary in the air, level with the worker’s screen. “I have this cinema card that you can scan.” Jenson’s eyes widen, he gives you a quick look over before his mouth splits into a toothy grin. “Ah!” is all he says before he gently takes the cards and swipes them one after another in the card slot.

His expression makes you feel as if you’ve been left out of something important but you don’t have much time to linger on the thought before Jenson is walking away from where he stood with a small promise that he’ll return shortly. You rock backwards on the balls of your feet in suspense, maybe the card didn’t work? You look around, a small part of you is hoping to somehow catch a glimpse of your newfound crush but to no avail. The mechanical sound of tickets being printed breaks you from your scanning of the lobby. Jenson places the tickets and the two cards back in your hand. Yet surprisingly, he also slides a large bag of popcorn in your direction. You give him a questioning glance. Was this yet another thing you’d managed to agree to buy without realising? Jenson only gives you another of those wide smiles before answering “He talks about you a lot. And you're the only one to have bought one of these cards. Well, unless you’re Bertie but you certainly don’t look 80 years old.”

His words make you blush and huff out a small laugh. You pocket your cards, grab the bag of popcorn and walk away muttering a small thanks. You find your seat, mind whirring over what is left in front of you. On your left armrest is a bag of caramel and butter popcorn, paired with the memory of Jenson’s words. “He spoke about you” Your cheeks warm at the thought of Logan possibly reciprocating your feelings. And then you fully settle into your seat, prepared to finally focus on the screen, you can’t help but notice that the price on the ticket is higher than usual… How odd…

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Meanwhile, Logan's phone:

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logansargeant

Logansargeant: A nice weekend off for once

Liked by Oscarpiatri, Alexalbon and 46 others

View all 12 comments

Oscarpiatri: mate you ditched me for a golf weekend?

↳Logansargeant: Sorry Osc, I just needed to get my thoughts together

↳Osarpiastri: ooh. Is this about **********

↳Logansargeant: Shush mate, you can make it less obvious.

↳Alexalbon: Oooh who or what is **********?!?🤨

↳Oscarpiastri: 🤐 i’m afraid i’m sworn to secrecy

↳Alexalbon: Booo. You’re no fun

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

For the entirety of the day, Logan has been staring at the door each time it opens. At every worship of the automatic doors on the carpet, his head whips up, hoping to find you there, only to be met with a gaggle of 40 year old women or a party of school children. Logan isn't even afraid to admit the reason behind his peculiar behaviour. He has missed his “staring at Y/N time” as Oscar has so fondly nicknamed it.

After the text he received from Jenson, he can't help but feel a buzz of hope linger in his stomach. He's seen you many times before but the fact that you're coming even when he's not here and possibly looking for him (Jenson's words, not his)? Just the thought makes Logan grin. He already had today planned out in his head. You'd walk through those doors with your regular smile and come up to the counter. You’d then ask to see another random film that was showing at a later point today. He’d flash you a smile and when you’d go to pay, he’d stop you and insist that it was his duty to pay for a woman, especially on the first date. You’d be left in wordless awe and would beg him to let you repay him to which he’d only respond by swooping you into an eager ki-. His daydream is interrupted by soft coughing.

His head whips up only to be met with the familiar shade of your eyes which had plagued his dreams for many nights. You give him a soft smile and all of Logan’s previous “plan” exits his mind as he just gets lost in your eyes. He smiles back at you and lets out a breathy “Hi…” Your grin widens. “Hi Logan, how are you today?” Gosh even you just saying his name makes butterflies erupt in his stomach. He readily answers your question and the two of you fall into eager small talk.

It almost hurts you to have to pull out of the conversation but you find yourself needing a distraction from the cute Yank on the other side of the counter. “So do you have any new film recommendations today?” Logan lets out a contemplative hum. “None that you haven't already seen.” You visibly deflate at his words. In the past, you have always been very strategic with when you visit and planned trips when there were new films showing.

However today you didn't look as if you were too wrapped up with just the thought of seeing Logan again. “Oh…” You let out an awkward laugh. “Well I guess you've turned me into a cinephile then.” You inwardly slap yourself at your words. Genius. You've all but outed your crush for him, you might as well get on one knee and start spouting sonnets. Logan's cheeks warm and he gains composure before he responds. “Is there, uh, anything else you can do near here? Go to the record store? He'll, my boss, know a killer bakery that he used to work at if you ever want any recommendations!” You almost feel like spilling your guts to Logan and revealing the true intention of your visits. “Well… In all honesty I've never really explored the rest of the mall, I've mainly stuck to the cinema.”

Logan perks up at your words. This could be his chance. He rubs his shiny palms on his trousers and shakily responds. “Well… I could show you around later if you'd like that?”

You fight the urge to start grinning like a lovesick fool. “I think I'd really quite like that.” Logan's mouth turns into an uncontrollable toothy grin as he laughs in surprise. “Great. Yeah. Amazing. I can't wait!” You giggle at his cute rambling. “What time do you get off?”

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The two of you sit in content silence. “This was great.” You eagerly nod at the man sitting opposite you as you take another scoop of your plain froyo. “It was truly amazing. Thank you and I hope we can do it again.” He smiles softly at you (despite how often he's done it throughout the evening, you still feel butterflies erupt in your stomach). He replies softly. “I'd love that.” He waves to one of the supervisors (who is involved in a conversation with clearly too much sexual tension with a curly haired man, clearly another supervisor if the badge was anything to look at). She catches Logan's eyeline and nods. After the two of you have paid (Logan insisted that it was his duty to pay) and left the restaurant, you walk around arm in arm with the man with a new found confidence.

“So where to next time? Is it a bit too on the nose to suggest a movie date next time?” Logan laughs breathily as he pulls you into his side. “Sweetheart, I think you've seen enough films to last you a lifetime.”

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Jenson watches as his favourite worker leans over the counter with a wide grin on his face. He thinks back to a similar time when him and his partner were also like that. As you quickly lean in to peck Logan's nose, the older man can't help but feel a sense of pride for the man almost like his son and a sense of joy for your blossoming relationship; which very clearly is the best thing for the both of you.

Logan glances up at the clock every few minutes. His eagerness to clock off makes you giggle. “What's got you so tense?” His face softens. “Sorry. I just really want to take my gorgeous girlfriend to this new shop that's just opened up.” You fight the urge to blush and instead just tilt your head playfully. “Really? What does she look like, maybe I've seen her before.” You glance around and consequently don't notice Logan scrambling over the counter and engulfing you in a large embrace. “Hmmm… I think I've found her.” Your protests get lost in the laughter as the two of you each off, Logan's shift finally at its end.

Jenson watches the two of you exit the building, arm in arm with lovestruck expressions on your faces. Gosh, you were adorable. And gosh he was going to have to do Logan's job and refill the slushy machine…for the third time this week.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: Guys, I have to finally come out and admit it, this is the “view” I went to the cinema for.

Liked by: Logansargeant, Yourbestfriend, Oscarpiatri and 104 others

View all 18 comments:

Yourbestfriend: 😐Simp😐 Also Logan I am out for your blood

↳Logansargeant: What. Why!?!

↳Yourbestfriend: You took my wife from me😫

↳Logansargeant: My wife now (soon)🙂

↳Yourusername: Awww Lo, Ilysm❤❤

Logansargeant: Who is that handsome man?

↳Yourusername: He has a gf, sorry :/

↳Logansargeant: Is his girlfriend single because she is gorgeous?😍😍😍

↳Yourusername: Depends on who's asking🤨

Alexalbon: Awww! So cute to see you together after Logan spent weekends raving about you

↳Logansargeant: Nuh uh

↳Oscarpiastri: fym nuh uh?

↳Yourusername: Aww Lo. You raved about me?

↳Logansargeant: Of course baby how could I not💙

↳Yourusername: You're adorable

↳Oscarpiastri: 😐🤮

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logansargeant

Logansargeant: Finally made me change my ways (also if you see this and you're Jenson then we aren't breaking any cinema policies and see you on Monday)!!!

Liked by yourusername, Oscarpiatri, Alexalbon and 107 others

View all 24 comments:

Yourusername: Oh my gosh that photo of us outside the cinema turned out so cute❤❤

↳Logansargeant: Only because you're in it💙

↳Yourusername: Charmer…

↳Logansargeant: What can I say? It's the only thing to do when you have such a gorgeous girlfriend😉

↳Yourusername: Lo stop. I'm actually giggling and blushing rn wtf

Oscarpiatri: is this what you do on company time now

↳Logansargeant: I'm afraid so Osc

↳Oscarpiastri: does this mean you'll put a staff discount on my tickets now, finally

↳Logansargeant: Sorry Osc, I don't think I'm allowed

↳Oscarpiastri: oh but your gf has been getting it since before you even started dating!?!?!

↳Yourusername: Awww Lo, really? That's so sweet (and explains the cheap tickets now)

↳Logansargeant: What can I say babe? I've been whipped from the start

Jensonbutton: I suppose I can Ignore the fact that you had your phone out in the cinema room just this once.

↳Logansargeant: And this is why you ate my favourite boss!

↳Jensonbutton: You only have one boss…

↳Logansargeant: So you truly are the best!

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant #f1 smau #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fic #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant smau #raceway retail 𐀶

231 notes · View notes