#like i will admit i went into it with low expectations
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aventurineswife · 3 days ago
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HAIIII
my jazz band (club) was boring bc my bestiest westie wasnt there (THEY DITCHED ME AND WENT HOME WITHOUT TELLING ME)
but anyway, u said to blow up ur inbox with requests or something, so >:3
aventurine (i think u can tell i like him with the fact i put him in every request) and any other characters u want with a reader who plays one or more instruments (this is based off me, i personally play flute, bass guitar, and cymbals, but u can pick whatever instrument(s))
maybe do a scenario where like characters didnt know reader played instruments, and character walks in on reader playing something
could u also make it romantic, please? :3
-:3 anon
Symphony of Surrender
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, March 7th x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Vulnerability, Emotional Healing, Gentle Moments, Inner Struggles, Self-Discovery, Complex Relationships.
Warnings: Minor Emotional Angst, Themes of Trauma (Aventurine's past), Slight Manipulation, Light Romance and Sweet Moments, Minor Character Introspection.
A/N: I'M SORRY WHAT?! 😭 DAMN YOUR BESTIE SHOULD'VE AT LEAST INFORMED YOU THO!!
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The soft, melodious notes of a piano drifted through the luxurious, dimly-lit room. Aventurine, dressed in his usual flamboyant attire, had just returned from a late meeting. His mind buzzed with the usual mix of strategy and calculation, but something felt different tonight. The air seemed to hold an unfamiliar tranquility. Curious, he followed the sound of the piano, his footsteps light but purposeful.
As he entered the room, his eyes fell on you—sitting gracefully at the piano, your fingers dancing across the keys with a fluid elegance that struck him silent. The soft glow of the room illuminated the delicate movement of your hands, each note resonating with a raw emotion he had not expected to find in this space.
You didn’t notice him at first, completely absorbed in the music. Aventurine lingered in the doorway, watching you with an intensity he rarely allowed anyone to witness. His usual guarded demeanor faltered for a moment, the mask of charm and bravado slipping as he admired the way the music seemed to flow through you, as if it was part of your very soul.
Finally, you paused, the last note hanging in the air like a whisper. It was then that you turned to find him standing there, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, genuine expression—one of awe.
"Didn't expect to find you here," you said with a teasing smile, your hands resting on the piano keys. "I didn't know you were a fan of music."
Aventurine stepped closer, his earring catching the light. "I appreciate all forms of art," he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and sincerity. "But I must admit, I didn't expect this from you."
You chuckled softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "I guess I have a few surprises up my sleeve."
He walked around the piano, his gaze never leaving you. "I should have known. You're full of mysteries."
Your fingers hovered over the keys again, as if debating whether to continue playing. Aventurine watched you carefully, his eyes intense yet tender. He stepped behind you, leaning in just close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence.
"I'd like to hear more," he said quietly, his voice low and almost vulnerable. The usual confidence in his words softened, revealing a hint of something deeper. "But this time... let me join you."
You hesitated for a moment, your gaze flickering to him. Then, with a small nod, you placed your hand on the keys, inviting him into this intimate moment.
As the music resumed, Aventurine found his own rhythm, not in the notes, but in the unspoken connection between you. Each sound was a step closer, each chord a bridge built between the two of you. The game of life was full of risks, but for the first time, Aventurine felt that maybe—just maybe—some risks were worth taking.
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The Astral Express hummed with its usual rhythm, but inside your cozy little room, a quiet atmosphere settled. You had been practicing with your bow earlier, but tonight, something called to you—a need to express yourself differently. So, you decided to take a chance. With a deep breath, you reached for the guitar hidden in the corner of the room and began to strum, unsure of the melody that would come.
As your fingers found their way, the sound of the guitar filled the space with warmth. The soft, melancholic tune seemed to escape from you effortlessly, reflecting the longing and curiosity you often felt. You hadn’t played for anyone yet, not here, not on the train. But tonight, you needed to.
Oblivious to the quiet music, March wandered down the hallway, her camera slung over her shoulder. She had been busy capturing moments all day, and now her mind was buzzing with thoughts of her mysterious past. But then she heard it—an unfamiliar sound. She stopped, curious, her eyes wide. The soft notes of a guitar? Was it you?
March, being ever the curious spirit, couldn’t resist. She peeked around the doorframe, her heart racing with excitement and anticipation. There you were, completely absorbed in the music. Your eyes were closed, and your fingers moved across the strings as though it was second nature to you.
She took a small step forward, her breath catching in her throat. It was a side of you she hadn’t seen before. The way the music seemed to flow from your very being, the way your body swayed ever so slightly with the rhythm, captivated her.
You paused mid-strum, sensing someone’s presence, and looked up to find March standing in the doorway. A small blush crept onto her cheeks as she realized she’d been caught.
"You play," she said softly, her voice tinged with awe. "I had no idea."
You smiled warmly, setting the guitar down beside you. "Guess I’ve got a few surprises up my sleeve too."
March stepped closer, her playful grin lighting up her face. "You know, I didn’t take you for a musician."
You chuckled, a little embarrassed. "I don't often show it. Just felt like playing tonight."
Her smile softened, her usual bubbly demeanor giving way to something more earnest. "It’s beautiful," she said, her eyes shining. "You really know how to capture a moment, don’t you?"
You nodded, a bit of warmth spreading through you at her compliment. "It’s like photography, in a way. Capturing a feeling, a memory."
March’s eyes sparkled with understanding. "I get that," she said, her gaze flicking to the camera resting on her shoulder. "But with you, it’s more than just a moment. It’s... part of who you are."
Her words lingered in the air, and you felt something shift between you—something deeper than either of you had expected.
Before you could respond, March suddenly grinned mischievously. "Mind if I join you?"
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden offer. "You play too?"
She winked. "I don't know, but I’ll give it a shot."
With that, she sat beside you, taking a seat with her camera beside her, and together, you found a new rhythm. It wasn’t just about music anymore; it was about the connection between you two, woven through each note, each laugh, and the shared understanding of a journey you were both still figuring out.
As the music played, you realized that this was more than a simple tune—it was the start of something special.
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m4rv3l-girl · 3 hours ago
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Hellooo! I stumbled upon your writing on request & it was so good and you deliver it perfectly. So here am I requesting a ff from you. Its about reader/OC where she also an avenger. Bucky is in relationship with her. Most of their mission were almost together & for this one they were separated. It wasn’t unusual but this time Bucky seems more agitated. This cause them to have arguments. Before they could resolve it she was sent to the mission earlier than dated. Bucky regret what he said to her & try to find her to apologise but what he gets was an upsetting news. Her plane had been hijacked. I need angst but with happy ending please. Yearning is good to add too. Thank you so much and sorry if my request was too much. 🤍🩵🤍🩵💗
Hijacked
Warnings: mentions of violence.
Bucky leaned against the sleek counter in the Avengers Tower communal kitchen, nursing his fifth cup of coffee of the day.
The bitter liquid did nothing to ease the churn of unease in his stomach. Y/N had left the room hours ago after their latest argument, the tension still heavy in the air. He hated when they fought, hated the way her voice wavered when she’d told him he was overreacting, and especially hated the way she’d walked away before he could figure out how to apologize.
It wasn’t unusual for them to be sent on separate missions. As one of the most capable field agents on the team, Y/N often worked independently or alongside Natasha, while Bucky found himself paired with Steve or Sam. They always managed, always found their way back to each other. This time, though, something was different. He couldn’t shake the nagging worry gnawing at the edges of his mind, the sense that something was off.
"You're being ridiculous," Y/N had said earlier, her tone sharp but her eyes soft. "I can handle myself, Bucky. You know that."
"I know you can," he’d snapped back, running a hand through his hair. "But that doesn't mean I have to like the idea of you being out there alone. Especially now."
“Now?” she’d echoed, crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I—” He’d faltered, his frustration overriding his ability to articulate the fear gripping his chest. "I just think we should’ve had more time to prepare. It’s not like they couldn’t have waited a day or two."
She’d sighed then, exasperated. “This is what we do. It’s not always perfect timing.”
And then she’d walked out.
The sound of a nearby chair scraping against the floor jolted Bucky from his thoughts. Sam plopped down across from him, tossing a protein bar onto the counter.
“You look like you’ve been brooding for hours,” Sam remarked, unwrapping the bar. “What’s going on?”
“Y/N’s mission got moved up,” Bucky muttered, staring into his coffee. “We argued before she left.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And she’s already gone,” Bucky admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t get to apologize.”
Sam chewed thoughtfully. “She’ll be fine, man. Y/N’s a badass. But you should probably work on this whole ‘bottle-up-your-emotions-until-they-explode’ thing. It’s not a great look.”
Bucky didn’t respond, his mind too tangled with guilt and worry. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N walking onto the Quinjet, her back rigid and her expression unreadable. He should’ve stopped her. He should’ve said something—anything.
Hours turned into a restless night. Bucky paced his room, glancing at his phone every few minutes, waiting for some kind of update. When the call finally came, it wasn’t what he was expecting.
“Barnes,” Steve’s voice crackled through the line, urgent and grim. “Y/N’s plane has been hijacked.”
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Bucky gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.
“What do you mean, hijacked?” he demanded, his voice barely steady.
“En route to the mission,” Steve explained. “The plane went off course. We lost contact about an hour ago.”
Bucky’s chest tightened. An hour. Anything could have happened in that time. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each one more horrifying than the last.
“I’m going after her,” he said immediately, already moving to grab his gear.
“Bucky—” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off.
“Don’t try to talk me out of this,” he growled. “You’d do the same if it were me.”
Steve sighed. “Just… be careful.”
Bucky barely registered Steve’s next words as he ended the call, his mind already racing. His stomach churned with a potent mix of dread and determination as he grabbed his gear, slinging his tactical bag over his shoulder. He could feel the weight of Steve's gaze as he passed him in the hallway.
“She’ll be okay, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his own worry. “Y/N’s one of the best.”
Bucky nodded stiffly, but the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. She was the best—that’s what scared him. He knew exactly what kind of danger someone like her would attract. And now she was out there, in the hands of God-knows-who, and the last words he’d said to her were drenched in frustration instead of love.
“Don’t wait up,” Bucky muttered before walking out, leaving Steve in the hallway.
Down in the briefing room, Sam was already poring over satellite data, his brow furrowed in concentration. Natasha stood next to him, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the map projected on the wall.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” Bucky said, his voice taut.
“We’re working on it,” Sam replied, glancing up. “Last known coordinates put her plane about here.” He pointed to a dense patch of forest on the map, far from any major cities or settlements. “But that’s where it went dark. No signals since.”
“What kind of hijackers force a plane down in the middle of nowhere?” Bucky muttered, more to himself than to them.
Natasha gave him a pointed look. “The kind who want privacy. Whoever they are, they knew what they were doing.”
Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Then we don’t have time to waste. How do we get there?”
“I’ve got a Quinjet ready,” Natasha said, already moving toward the hangar. “Sam’s coming with me to cover the air. You?”
“I’m going on the ground,” Bucky said without hesitation. “I need to find her.”
Natasha didn’t argue, though her gaze lingered on him for a moment. “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid. She’ll need you in one piece.”
Bucky followed them to the hangar, his movements automatic as he loaded up on weapons and gear. Every second felt like an eternity, his mind replaying images of Y/N’s face, the sound of her voice when they’d argued.
“I’ll take the north quadrant,” Sam said as they boarded the Quinjet. “You can have the east. We’ll scan for heat signatures and anything out of the ordinary. Natasha’s running point.”
Bucky nodded absently, his focus already miles ahead of them, in that forest where Y/N was waiting.
As the Quinjet took off, the hum of the engines did little to soothe his nerves. Natasha’s voice crackled through the comms, giving updates on their trajectory, but Bucky barely listened. His gaze was fixed out the window, the cityscape below giving way to sprawling green wilderness.
“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You good?”
“No,” Bucky admitted, his voice low. “But I will be when I find her.”
Sam studied him for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll get her back. You know that, right?”
Bucky didn’t answer. He couldn’t let himself think about any other possibility.
The Quinjet began to descend, the dense forest rising up to meet them. Natasha’s voice came through the comms again.
“We’re close to the coordinates. There’s a clearing about half a mile east where we can set down. From there, it’s on foot.”
Bucky was already moving toward the hatch, his gear secured and his mind focused. As soon as the Quinjet touched down, he was out, the cool forest air hitting him like a slap.
Sam and Natasha followed, the three of them standing in the shadow of the towering trees.
“Keep in contact,” Natasha said, her voice brisk. “If you find anything, call it in.”
Bucky gave a curt nod before heading east, his steps quick and purposeful. The forest was dense, the underbrush tangling around his boots and the canopy overhead blocking out most of the light. His enhanced senses sharpened, every sound and movement setting him on edge.
“Come on, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the trees. “Give me something.”
The faint smell of smoke caught his attention first, acrid and metallic. He moved toward it, his heart pounding. As he pushed through the underbrush, the wreckage came into view.
The plane was mangled, its nose buried in the dirt and its wings twisted at unnatural angles. Smoke still curled from the fuselage, the acrid scent stinging his nose. Bucky’s breath caught as he took in the scene, his eyes darting over the wreckage for any sign of movement.
“Nat, I’ve found the plane,” he said into his comm, his voice tight.
“Any sign of Y/N?” Natasha’s voice crackled in his ear.
“Not yet,” he said, moving closer. “But I’m not leaving until I do.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he approached the site, the wreckage stark against the green backdrop. Smoke curled into the air, and the unmistakable scent of burnt metal lingered. He moved silently, his enhanced senses on high alert.
“Come on, Doll,” he murmured under his breath, scanning the area. “Where are you?”
The first sign of life came in the form of muffled voices. Bucky crept closer, his body tensed for a fight. He spotted a group of armed men near the wreckage, their attention focused on something—or someone.
Y/N.
She was on her knees, her hands bound but her gaze defiant. A trickle of blood ran down her temple, but she didn’t look broken. If anything, she looked furious.
Bucky’s chest swelled with both pride and anger. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. One wrong move could put her in more danger. He had to be smart about this.
The fight was over in minutes. Bucky moved like a shadow, taking out the guards one by one. By the time the last man hit the ground, Y/N was already working to free herself.
“Bucky,” she breathed, relief and frustration mingling in her voice.
He was at her side in an instant, his metal hand snapping her restraints like they were nothing. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice wavered. “But what the hell are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing,” he admitted, his hands hovering over her, unsure where to touch. “I had to make sure you were safe.”
Her expression softened, the anger melting away. “You idiot,” she murmured, throwing her arms around him.
Bucky held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For what I said. For not stopping you. For everything.”
Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you were just worried.”
“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice raw. “Not now. Not ever.”
“You won’t,” she promised, her hand cupping his cheek. “I’m right here.”
They made their way back to the Quinjet, leaning on each other for support. Bucky couldn’t stop stealing glances at her, as if reassuring himself that she was really there.
Back at the tower, the rest of the team welcomed them with relieved smiles and teasing remarks. But Bucky didn’t let Y/N out of his sight, his hand always brushing against hers, his presence a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone.
Later, as they lay tangled together on the couch, Bucky pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m never letting you go on a mission alone again,” he murmured.
Y/N chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “We’ll see about that.”
For now, though, they were together, and that was all that mattered.
——————————————————————————————————
Hope you enjoyed it, hun! 🫶
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sadkachow · 2 months ago
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THE (CATHOLIC) SCHOOL I (UNWILLINGLY) GO TO HAD AN ASSEMBLY ABOUT MENTAL HEALTH TODAY AND??? THEY SHOWED A VIDEO OF MARKIPLIER???
THE SPEAKER DOING THE PRESENTATION CLICKED TO THE SLIDE WITH THE VIDEO ON IT AND MY BRAIN JUST BUFFERED
SHE WAS LIKE "Have any of you ever heard of Markiplier before?" AND I WAS LIKE ???????????
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agxxb · 2 months ago
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Prettier Than a Star .𖥔 ݁ ˖
rafe cameron x f!reader
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summary: when rafe finds you alone, you finally get to know one another.
warnings: smut. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (f!receiving). use of pet names (baby, sweetheart). praise. underage drinking. best friend’s brother. [5k]
read part two here!
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“You’re not supposed to be out here. It’s off-limits to guests.” You turned around in surprise upon hearing a new voice, only relaxing after seeing the familiar face. “Ah, it’s just you.”
Rafe’s head cocked to the side, surprised to see you standing on one of Tanneyhill’s many balconies — but it was a pleasant surprise. He didn’t smile, but his expression softened just a little.
“Sorry, Rafe,” you apologised, a small yet sheepish smile on your face. You hadn’t expected anyone to find you, let alone your friend’s older brother. You just wanted peace and quiet away from the jamboree happening below.
Rafe walked over with a hand in his jeans’ pocket, the other holding a beer. He turned and leaned against the rails beside you. “Didn’t expect to see you at my party.”
“Sarah invited me,” you explained, a short shrug following as you took a deep breath through your nose. “She kinda left me alone as soon as she saw her boyfriend, and I got overwhelmed with the party. This was the only place I knew no one would be.”
Rafe chuckled lightly. “Sounds like Sarah.” He shook his head. He couldn’t lie and say he was surprised Sarah had ditched you. “What? Can’t handle a little party?” he asked, clearly teasing you.
“I can.” You shot him a look, but still grinned. “Just not when people I don’t know are shoving unknown drinks into my face.”
He smirked, taking a quick swig of beer from the bottle. “Hey, those are the best kind of drinks. Free alcohol is good alcohol.” He glanced over at you as he spoke. “You should’ve just come found me when Sarah ditched you.”
“Free drinks are the best, but not when there’s a possibility of them being spiked,” You gave him another small smile before shrugging. “And, in all honesty, I didn’t even think you liked me enough to talk to me. You’ve only ever spoken to me when Sarah’s been there.”
Rafe’s smirk faltered, and his expression softened ever-so-slightly. “Why wouldn’t I like you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side again, looking at you. “You’re one of the few people that Sarah hangs out with that I don’t want to throw into a wall the moment I see them,” he added, giving a scoff of a laugh.
You smiled at Rafe’s words, letting out a short chuckle. He kept his gaze on you for a moment more, something almost thoughtful crossing his face before he looked out to the front grounds of the house.
The night sky was vast, the stars glimmering above. The sea breeze was cool and fresh against your skin, and the sounds from the party down below were just low enough to be a distant rumble. It was nice and peaceful.
“I’ve always adored the island,” you said after a short while of silence, following his eye-line to admire the view: the sea in the far back, the beautiful sunset just above the sea line, and the houses in the close distance.
Rafe looked away from the view, to you, listening to you. He’d never really paid much attention to how beautiful the island really was. The night was nice, though; even he could admit that. He thought about making a snide comment about the view – that it’d be prettier with a joint or drug to enhance it – but didn’t. Instead, he just nodded.
“It is nice,” he agreed, taking another swig of the beer in his hand.
He turned to lean against the railing once more, his side now facing you. He raised the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back as he took a healthy sip, enjoying the taste of it. It went quiet again, and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He watched as you kept your gaze on the sky, and you looked almost mesmerised.
It was almost like you were in a trance, the way you just watched the stars above. The sight was honestly rather fascinating to Rafe; He’d never seen anyone just stare into space. He continued to watch you though, and found himself almost studying how captivated you were by the stars, like there was some sort of peace in that moment.
“You like the stars?” Rafe heard himself ask, his voice low and casual as he looked upwards as well.
“Oh, I adore them…” Your eyes twinkled whilst the stars blinked. You smiled, a small one, but it was filled with admiration and fascination.
Rafe listened intently, watching as the soft smile appeared on your face, and he found himself feeling a sense of curiosity. “Why?”
“Because it’s all unknown. It’s scary, but also so cool.”
Rafe hummed lowly, and he found he actually agreed a bit with what you said. The stars and sky were definitely a little scary, but the unknown always was. And yet, it was interesting, too.
He went silent for a few moments, the alcohol in his system making him more relaxed and a bit less guarded. He felt more open, like he could say things he wouldn’t normally say, and that was why he spoke again after a moment of silence. “Want some?”
You looked over at Rafe, seeing him tilting his beer in your direction. You accepted his offer with a smile, taking the glass bottle from his hold and bringing it up to your mouth, wrapping your lips around the top and tilting your head back.
Rafe watched your actions, licking his lips as his thoughts spiralled. He found his eyes trailing over your face, lingering on your eyes, and then your lips, which looked soft and full. The alcohol he had consumed had made his thoughts fuzzy, and he suddenly found himself imagining something else instead of the beer bottle.
The thoughts of how you looked and the soft tone of your voice made his mind wander, imagining what sounds you might make in other situations.
"What’re you doing?" you teased, biting your bottom lip and moving slightly closer to Rafe. You had noticed him staring, scanning your body and – possibly –admiring you.
Rafe knew he had been caught looking at you, and he didn't even know what to say when you moved closer. He tried to keep his composure, though he found his eyes straying once more as he noticed a glimpse of your collarbone.
"I'm enjoying the view.”
"Yeah?" You lightly blushed, cheeks turning a pink champagne, and smiled up at him. "Enjoying it, hm?"
Rafe was captivated as you smiled at him, and his breath hitched as he watched you take another sip of his beer. It was more than a little attractive, and he found his thoughts getting muddled again, his mind wandering to places it had no business going.
"Yeah," he answered simply, his voice coming out deep and rough as he shrugged.
He tried to look away, but he found himself looking at you again, eyes drifting from your collarbone and over the swell of your chest. He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but he couldn't help it. He found himself admiring you, the soft curves and slopes of your body, the shape of your hips. Even though you were still standing a few inches apart, he was suddenly aware of how close you were, and he wanted you to be closer.
“Just admiring?” you wondered aloud, almost hinting at the fact you wanted him to do more.
Rafe briefly wondered what would happen if he reached out and touched you, to feel his hands on your skin. It would probably be so soft, he bet. He could smell the sweet scent of your perfume, and it was like an invitation to him.
His eyes flicked back up to your lips when you bit your bottom one, and he found himself wondering what they would feel like against his own. He took a step forward, his boots thudding against the balcony floor, and reached out, his fingers hovering a few inches away from your skin, the tips of his fingers just barely touching your cheek.
Rafe slowly lowered his hand until it connected, gently resting his palm against the soft skin of your cheek. He gently caressed your skin, feeling the softness underneath his fingers as he stroked your cheek. He felt emboldened, and the alcohol in his system made him a more reckless.
“Your hand's warm," you told him, resting your cheek into his palm. You were aware of Rafe's history and his anger issues, but you weren’t scared of him... especially after the way he'd treated you that night. Rafe hummed in acknowledgement, trying to ignore the way his heart flipped at how you leaned into his touch.
He wanted this, wanted to touch you, and he wanted more than that, too... so much more.
"You're soft," Rafe mumbled, his voice rougher than usual, and he let his thumb gently brush against your jawline.
"I am?" you asked, almost shy after hearing him say you were soft. He hummed in response once again, unable to stop himself from gently rubbing his thumb along your skin, slowly, over and over again.
"Yeah," he murmured, his voice still sounding rough, and his thumb started to travel down the slope of your neck. "Soft everywhere."
“You haven’t even touched me everywhere.”
Rafe’s eyes snapped up to yours, trying to see if there were any hints of intoxication behind your words. He let his fingers press gently against the underside of your chin, just barely lifting it.
"You like when I touch you?" he asked quietly, the words just slipping from his mouth. You hummed a response, agreeing to his question silently, and a rush of heat flowed through him. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
The way you almost begged for a kiss made his lips twitch up. His hand slowly moved to the back of your neck as he gently pulled you forward, tilting your chin up. He looked into your eyes as his face hovered close to yours, wanting to make sure you really wanted this. His breath fanned over your face, and he slowly closed the remaining gap to press his lips against yours.
Rafe let himself just hold his lips against yours for a second, just the briefest moment, before he really kissed you. His lips moved against yours, molding themselves to your mouth in a shockingly gentle action.
You moaned softly as your lips moved together, never wanting to stop kissing now you had tasted him. Your hands lifted, placing the beer bottle on the balcony to your right before you touched him: one hand on his torso and the other on the back of his neck, fingers gently scratching at the nape.
At the sound of your soft moan, something inside Rafe snapped. He felt your hands on his skin, the feeling of your fingers scraping against his neck just made him want more, and so he took more by pressing his lips harder against yours.
Rafe quickly wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his front, and he let his tongue gently slide across your bottom lip. His mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts, filled with just need and want and you. He was vaguely aware of the party going on below, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Rafe groaned and pressed even closer against you, pinning you up against the railing. He let his tongue explore your mouth, tasting you before he raised a hand to your throat once again, tilting your head to the side and away from his. He started gently nibbling and sucking on the skin there, letting his lips travel down over your pulse.
“Fuck,” you moaned quietly, closing your eyes as you basked in the pleasure gained from him kissing your neck. “Rafe…”
He felt a rush of satisfaction at the way you gasped his name, the sound going straight to his already-hardening cock. His lips continued to move along the skin on your neck, sucking and then biting down gently, trying to get more of those sweet sounds out of you.
“You sound so sweet when you say my name like that,” Rafe muttered in a deep grumble against your skin as his free hand started to slowly lift up the edge of your shirt.
He felt another rush of heat flow through him, settling deep in the pit of his stomach, at the breathy sound you made in reply to his praise. He let his fingers slide across the newly-exposed skin of your hip, his warm touch sending shivers through you.
“You gonna let me take you to my room?” he asked huskily, pulling back from your neck to look into your eyes again.
“Is that what you want?” you asked him with a soft grin, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. You tilted his head to the side, littering kissing up and down the column of his neck.
Rafe groaned as he gave you more access to his neck, pressing lower-half against you, and his fingers dug into your hips. He was already so hard, just from the way you sounded and the feel of your lips. He felt like his brain was completely clouded over now, and he couldn’t think of anything except you.
You hummed, lightly nipping at his neck and smiling softly as you heard Rafe let out a sound, like a moan had been caught in his throat. You pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, sucking at the skin between his neck and shoulder, leaving a mark and soothing over it with your tongue.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Rafe groaned again, the feeling of your tongue making him shiver. He took a shuddering breath as he tried to force himself to think clearly, but all he could really think about was your mouth on his skin.
Feeling how hard he was against your lower stomach, you pulled back to bite your lower lip. “You wanna take me into your room, Rafe? Wanna have your way and do whatever you want to me? Make me feel good?”
The teasing tone of your voice had his lust-filled brain short-circuiting. He felt your hand press against his hard length and he gritted his teeth, your hand moving up to slide over his abs, feeling his muscles tense.
“You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to make it to my room,” his voice was low and gravelly as he spoke.
“Yeah, pretty boy?”
He grunted as he felt an unexpected rush of heat at the nickname, and length twitched against your stomach. “Keep it up, and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“What if that’s what I want?” you whispered into his ear, leaving another peck against his cheek.
Rafe quickly turned his face to capture your lips with his own, the kiss anything but slow or gentle. He tried to pour all of his need into it, pushing his tongue into your mouth and hungrily tasting you. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin, and he began to move his mouth down over your jaw.
“Take me inside, Rafe. Please.”
He heard the hint of a moan in your voice, and the way you said his name, begging him to take you inside, was almost his undoing. He needed to get you alone, behind a locked door. Now.
Rafe pulled back, looking at you, his eyes dilated and filled with so much lust that it was like he’d completely lost himself in the need for you. “Come with me,” he said, voice raw, and he stepped away, just enough to grab your hand.
He wasted no time in pulling you along with him, hurrying through the balcony doors into the house, barely giving you a second to shut the door behind you before he was pulling you down a hallway and toward his room at the end. Rafe quickly opened his door and pulled you inside, shutting it behind you and locking it.
He pushed you up against the door, trapping you with his body. “Please fuck me,” you begged with a moan, fisting at the fabric of his button-up shirt.
The sound of your soft, pleading moan and your words made his head spin. At that exact moment, he was done trying to control himself. He felt his brain shut down, any higher thought completely gone, and he suddenly all he cared about was getting his hands on you.
He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside, before his hands almost immediately went to the shirt you were wearing. “Too many clothes,” he whispered thickly, his voice barely more than a rough grumble.
The moment he could see your skin, Rafe’s hands were on you again, touching you, feeling you. He couldn’t help but notice the little shivers you were making when he did. He brought his lips down to your neck once again, leaving more hot, wet kisses. His tongue traced the hollow of your jaw as his hands outlined your body, his touch rougher and greedier with each passing second.
Rafe let his lips move lower, down your neck and over your chest, sucking and kissing, his teeth gently scraping against your skin as he went. He stopped just above the line of your bra, taking it off before looking at you. You looked gorgeous: hair all tousled, marks already forming all over your skin, and breathing heavy.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” Rafe muttered almost gruffly, his eyes travelling over your face and down your body.
“Only for you, pretty boy,” you bit your bottom lip, running your fingers over his buzzed head as he knelt down in front of you, his hands on your hips.
He couldn’t help the way his breath hitched at the feeling of your fingers. He felt himself almost entranced by you, your sounds, words, and touch making it so that he didn’t care about anything other than you.
He continued his journey down your body, his lips on your stomach, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses and bites on your skin. His hands started to wander too, touching and exploring, sliding over your legs and moving up the inside of your thighs.
He looked up at you, watching your face as did so, the urge to mark you as his so primal and strong. He continued to kiss the tops of your thighs, leaving another mark behind before slowly making his way up again, closer and closer to the edge of your underwear.
“Fuck… Please.”
“Please what, Sweetheart?” He let his hands slide up your sides to your lower back, hooking his fingers on the edge of your underwear. He started to pull them down, his eyes still looking at you for your reaction. “C’mon… talk to me.”
“Please touch me.” Tears began to form in your’ eyes, but not from upset or pain; you were so turned on and impatient — you needed Rafe to touch you. “I’m so wet for you. Please.”
His own breathing was ragged now, his eyes dilated to the point the blue of them was almost completely gone, only a ring around the edge of his pupils visible. The way you sounded, so desperate and needy, almost had him fucking you against the door.
He brought his head closer to where you needed him, his lips hovering by the skin there for a moment. “How bad do you want me to touch you, baby?”
“So fucking bad, Rafe. Please,” you begged, running a hand over his short hair again. “Please.”
He leaned so that his cheek was resting on your hip, and he let out a low exhale, his breath warm and hot against your skin. “I’m gonna take my time with you,” he murmured, and then his lips were on your skin again, leaving kisses down your hip, towards your center.
It was like he’d suddenly lost all self-control, his need to touch you, to taste you, was so strong that it was pushing him past that edge of self-restraint. He pressed his lips against your core from over your lace panties, his tongue immediately tasting you through the fabric, and he let out a low moan.
“Fuck, you taste good.” He spoke directly against you, his voice gravelly and thick with lust, before slowly hooking his fingers under the lace of your underwear and pulling them down, needing to get them off you so that he could taste you properly.
Rafe’s hands were suddenly firm on your hip as he pushed your legs apart, keeping you open for him to put his mouth on you, his tongue licking and exploring. He was relentless, actions desperate. He felt the way you trembled under his touch, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to hold back for very long, not if he kept hearing those little sounds you were making.
You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back in pleasure and head titling back against his bedroom door. “Fuck! Feels so good, oh my god!”
Rafe loved the way you sounded, the way you reacted to him as he continued to suck on and lick at your clit. But he needed more. He pressed his hands against your hips as he continued with his attention, his tongue more demanding now. He was addicted to the taste of you, not wanting to ever touch another woman nor that he’s had you.
He continued his actions on your clit, finding what made you shiver and moan, what made you melt. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the sounds you made as he worked you with his mouth, pushing you higher and higher.
Rafe suddenly shifted, his tongue switching to a different angle. He could feel you shaking, getting closer and closer to the edge. He didn’t let up, his hands having moved to your thighs, keeping your legs open as he pressed himself closer, his tongue never slowing down, never stopping.
“Fuck!” you sobbed, the pleasure almost too much but so fucking good. “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Feels so fucking good.”
Rafe couldn’t possibly stop now, not when you sounded like that, not when you were so close. He could feel how your body was tightening, almost trembling as you got closer. He was so caught up in your sounds, in your taste. He kept his movements at the same speed, not wanting to change anything, and then you were there, falling over the edge. Your legs shook as you came, crying out his name as he lapped you up greedily, still wanting more after tasting you.
Only when you were starting to come down did he stop. Rafe slowly stood up, his mouth still wet and glistening, and looked at you, at the way you were leaning against the door and trying to get your breath back.
You immediately leaned forward to kiss Rafe, your lips meeting his instantly. He felt you melt against his body, and his arms encircled your waist, kissing you almost desperately, like he was starving and you were the only thing that could possibly satisfy him.
Rafe grabbed the back of your thighs and wrapped them around his waist, picking you up and moving you over to his bed, lightly dropping you onto the mattress before crawling over you. He loomed over you on the bed, his hands on either side of you. He could feel how you were looking at him, your eyes raking over his bare chest and the bulge in his pants, almost like you couldn't decide where to look first. It was driving him crazy. He felt like his skin was on fire, and he needed you to touch him, wanted to feel your hands on him.
“Please fuck me,” you quietly begged, looking up at him through your lashes. He leaned back, hands moving to his belt as he unbuckled it before sliding it through the loops of his jeans, taking them and his underwear off next.
“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, raising an eyebrow. “You want that?” He looked down at you hungrily, his eyes taking in the way you looked beneath him. He suddenly grabbed your wrists and pinned them to either side of your head, trapping you beneath him. “You gonna be good for me if I give you that?” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.
You nodded, silently pleading, begging, Rafe. You were soaked, and not just from when he ate you out moments prior. There was something about hearing him say those words, something about the way his voice sounded, so sweet and dominating, that made pleasure burn through you, making you want him even more.
He gently, almost reverently, released your wrists, his hands roaming over your body instead. “Good girl,” he murmured, voice rough. “That’s my good girl.”
Your hands lifted to rest on his bare back as Rafe smirked, reaching down and lining himself up before pushing forward into your sopping wet pussy. Your eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure, having him fill you to the brim.
"Oh, my god…” Rafe was hypnotised, his fingers grabbing at your hips. He could barely think, his mouth hanging open as his eyes glazed over.
The feeling of you beneath him, around him, was so intense he had to pause for a moment to collect himself. He felt like he was on fire, his body tense, his muscles coiled tight as he held himself above you. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, this intense, this desperate. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he started to move, his hips rocking against yours, eyes locked on your face.
He could feel your hands on his back, your nails clawing at his skin, and it only turned him on more. “That feel good, baby?” Rafe asked, voice strained with how good you felt.
“S-So good,” you nodded, tears building up in your eyes once again from the pleasure. “So deep.”
“Fuck,” Rafe moaned deeply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Your lips parted as his hips slapped against the backs of your thighs. It left you feeling dumb, no thoughts left in your head apart from how pretty Rafe looked above you. “Pussy’s so good.
“Please, please, please,” you begged, tilting your head back to look up at him. His own lips parted as he reached his hands up, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he stared as your tits in awe. “Just like that — keep fucking me like that.”
Rafe could feel every little gasp, every moan, every whimper you made, and it was driving him crazy. You were making him feel things he didn’t know he could feel, and he was lost in you. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, could feel himself losing control, and he knew he couldn’t hold back for much longer.
He suddenly leaned down, his face just inches away from yours, and pressed his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavy, his breath mingling with yours, his heart racing. He was hanging on by a thread, fighting the urge to let go, but he wanted to see you fall apart for him first.
Rafe suddenly slid his hand down your body, his thumb finding your clit and quickly rubbing it. You moaned loudly, nails scratching down his back and leaving red marks in their wake.
“F-fuck!” you cried, the pleasure consuming you. Rafe sped up, going harder and rougher, his own hand coming up to wrap around your neck, adding a little pressure — just the way you liked it. He loved the sound of your voice, the way it changed as he touched you, the way it got higher and more desperate as you got closer to the edge.
He couldn’t hold back a low moan of his own, keeping his hand on your neck as he sent harsh thrusts up into you, your pussy squelching with each one.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “Let me hear how good you feel.” He suddenly grabbed your hip, using it as leverage as he started to move rougher, his body tensing up. He was so close, so close to losing control, but he wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. He suddenly leaned down again, his mouth right next to your ear, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. “Cum for me, baby.”
“O-Oh, my God!” you moaned loudly, barely able to say anything other than that and his name.
He knew you were close, could feel it in your body, and he felt his own body tense up in response. ”That’s it, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick and low. “That’s it. Let go for me.”
“Rafe!” you screamed his name as you came, legs shaking around his waist with your head thrown back against his bed. He felt you tighten around him, felt your nails digging into his skin, and he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Gonna cum so fuckin' deep in you,” Rafe mumbled, letting go of your neck and running purely on primal instincts now. “Gonna take it all like my good girl, yeah?”
“Uh huh," you whined, tits bouncing as he continued to fuck himself deeper into you. “Please cum in me!”
“Prettier than any fucking star.” Rafe grabbed ahold of your hips, grinding his hips deep into yours a few more times, before coming to a stop. He came hard, his body tensing up as he buried his face into your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm.
You felt full as his cum filled you up, letting out a hum of content. Rafe couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but lay there, his body weighing you down, face pressed into your neck. He was breathing heavily, his body still shaking from the intensity of his release, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling this good, this wrecked, this satisfied.
He suddenly lifted his head up, eyes locking on yours immediately, his face flushed. “You… are amazing.”
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caffeinewitchcraft · 3 months ago
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AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied to me about his human job?
I (542 vampire) and my husband (260 vampire) have been together for a little over two centuries. There’s a saying in the vampiric community that it takes a century for a tryst to become an enduring partnership and another century to become soulmates. I thought that was true and that Matthew (using his real name because fuck you, Matthew) and I would be together forever…until this week.
First, let me explain a few things to the mortals here. I don’t mean that negatively – I came here specifically to get the opinion of those with a finite lifespan. However, I want to be fair to Matthew as much as possible and some of his decisions are very immortal-minded.
Both Matthew and I are vampires who have chosen to forsake some of our powers in exchange for the ability to daywalk. We made the transition together on our 100th anniversary almost 115 years ago. It wasn’t an easy transition for me. I was very dependent on human blood and I spent the first twenty years in almost constant sleep as my body adjusted to running off of less lunar magic and more solar magic.
It really felt like I was losing everything. My body got physically weaker and my powers began to disappear one by one. It felt like every time I woke, another part of me was missing. One day I could turn into a wolf, the next I could barely turn into a vapor. I could command a legion of undying servants, and then I could barely convince the mailman he didn’t see me levitate down from the second floor.
Matthew, however, took to daywalking like a werewolf to a sheep farm. He barely seemed to feel the pain of losing his power, maybe because he was so much younger than me. Whatever the case, he was out all the time once he stabilized. He would be gone for days sometimes and when he came back it was with fantastic stories about the humans’ new inventions or the new structures being built in whatever town we were in.
I’m not saying I regret transitioning. Just that Matthew and I had very different experiences. It felt like he barely changed at all while my entire being got rewritten. Being immortal makes you comfortable in your own skin. I never doubted myself or my power after I turned 100. But becoming a daywalker made me feel like I was being born as a human again. It was humiliating and vulnerable. I have to admit there were times I resented how easily Matthew did it. I blamed him for not supporting me like I thought he should. I would daydream about draining a human in front of him, showing him what I thought of his fascination with them. I had all sorts of vile and vengeful thoughts. I’m not proud of the person I was and now I’m grateful Matthew wasn’t there to see the lows I sunk to.
Despite all my awful thoughts, I didn’t quit. I don’t know why, but I didn’t. I stuck with it and, day by day, things got easier.
After 26 years I began to stabilize. The benefits of being a daywalker slowly blossomed before me.  Now I can say that I am completely happy with my daywalker status and all the changes it’s brought.
I am the most mentally stable I have been since my Turning in 1482. It’s like I’m awake. The fits of rage that used to consume me for months at a time have completely disappeared. I don’t experience the same level of obsession I used to which has freed up a lot of my time that I used to spend stalking my victims.
However, that drastic of a change would be challenging in any relationship. Matthew and I ended up together because of my obsessive nature. Our relationship became strained when that part of me went dormant. He expected me to follow his immersion into the human world just as I had followed him in his revenge quest against his Master. He expected me to support him wholeheartedly and with everything I was. He wanted sacrifices from me that I used to not even flinch at before making. But something was just…different. We wanted different things. I wanted different things.
Matthew was obsessed with being the perfect human. He craved full immersion. He still makes it a point to get a human job every twenty years or so. Me? I’m happy to live off our investments and some mild mind control while enjoying the art and theater community the humans have evolved.
It got bad. Some years, we spent like ghosts in our own house, drifting by each other without a glance. Other years, it was like we were spies behind enemy lines. He would do whatever he could to thwart me and I would go out of my way to ridicule him. Our vitriol poisoned the earth. Matthew didn’t speak to me for a full decade when that poison killed off an entire town.
About twenty years ago, it all came to a head. We had a serious sit-down talk about our relationship. It wasn’t easy. What they say about teaching an old dog new tricks is sometimes true. Matthew wanted me to be as involved with the humans as he was. He wanted me to care about them like he did. I wanted him to travel with me like we used to and not just hop from town to neighboring town (which he did to maintain a human identity with references so he could keep working). When it became clear that we were at an impasse, I brought up the idea of separation.
Separating in the vampiric world isn’t easy. There are a lot of alliances and blood oaths to be considered. Over the two centuries we spent together, we became known as a unit to a number of supernatural entities that we maintain an uneasy truce with. Separating would mean creating new oaths and alliances with the same individuals. And there was no guarantee that those individuals would make new pacts with both of you. A LOT of vampire couples end up in blood feuds while separating. Neither of us wanted that.
There was also, of course, the emotional side of things. While a lot of immortals tend to only feel muted emotions (especially vampires as old as me), Daywalking had made both of us more sensitive than we’d been before. We were both attached to the memories we shared and neither of us could imagine life without the other. After 200 years together, it felt like Matthew was my right arm, and I his. When I brought up separation, we both felt it like we were discussing an amputation.
After about a year of talking, we finally reached an agreement. We didn’t want to separate, and so we would compromise. I wouldn’t interfere with any of Matthew’s human jobs for the 15-17 years if he could hold them without arousing suspicion. In exchange, he would take a year off to go traveling with me before finding another town for us to live in. In between my trips, he would go to plays and galas with me to enjoy human artistry at least once a month.
Maybe our deal was in his favor. At the time, it felt practical and fair. A year of traveling wouldn’t undo Matthew’s string of connections. We would still see each other frequently by going on dates that I liked. Matthew would get to stay immersed in the human world at the level he wanted, and I could stay within my comfort zone.
Which brings me to my current problem.
We are currently at the start of one of Matthew’s work cycles. He’s been everything from a fireman to a politician to a subway worker to a barista. He craves knowledge and connection to a terrifying degree. If it weren’t for how we move every 20 years and he goes without protest, I’d call it obsession.
This cycle, Matthew told me he was going to be a teacher. I was hesitant. While the humans have become more tolerant and less violent over the years, that doesn’t mean they will tolerate us near their young. Enough humans know about vampires that staking in the modern era is a real possibility. Matthew could incite an angry mob against us or, heaven forbid, get a vampire hunter on our tail. I have yet to be shot, but I hear that they have silver bullets that hurt like Hell.
When I voiced my protests, Matthew reminded me about our agreement. He said that I wouldn’t interfere with his jobs and he’d go to all the plays I liked. He even pointed out that, as a teacher, he could get us into high school plays and expositions. I was uneasy, but agreements are penultimate to immortals. I silenced my objections and let him get a job as a science teacher at a local high school.
When Michael has had jobs in the past, I’ve never really paid attention. One time he was a state senator for ten years and I never even heard him speak. I didn’t consider it worth my time to hear whatever his facsimile of a human would say. Real humanity is in the art they create, not in the parody Michael enacts.
But this one…I couldn’t ignore this one. Maybe it was because I was still uneasy about his proximity to human young or maybe I could sense his lies even at the beginning. Whatever the case, I watched him.
The first thing I noticed was the hours. He would go to work early and would often come home when it was time for us to sleep. When I asked him about it, he said that he wasn’t used to grading and that he had underestimated what it took to put a good lesson plan together. I visited some online forums and that’s apparently reasonable for first year teachers.
He would also sometimes go in on the weekends. He missed one of our dates because there was a “grading emergency” that needed his immediate attention. Something about a student’s test getting lost and then found and he needed to input their grade before the deadline which was on Saturday. Humans like silly rules like that so I didn’t even look that one up. I just reminded him that he couldn’t miss our dates again or else he was breaking our deal. He apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again.
Then about three months into his new job, the phone calls started. We have a private room in our house for when we need to talk without any visitors overhearing. Michael moved all his school supplies in there, saying that he needed a silent space to concentrate on his grading. Whenever he got a call, he would never answer it in front of me. Instead, he’d say “Sorry, work” and just go into his office.
I also noticed that he didn’t dress very professionally. Human fashion changes quickly so it didn’t register at first. A sweatshirt here and there slipped past me, and also the Gucci slides. When he started wearing baggy jeans and jerseys to work, I noticed. I may not be up to date on all the newest fashions, but I do go to classy events. I know what a slob looks like and it didn’t sit right with me that he was wearing that to school. When I asked him about it, he always had an excuse. “This is what everyone wears” and “It’s a theme day” or, bafflingly, “It’s spirit week!”
I tried to leave it alone. The reason we have stayed together for so long is because of our agreement to not interfere in each other’s lives. But between his hours, the phone calls, and his appearance, something didn’t add up.
Then, last Thursday, he missed another one of our dates. We were supposed to go to the Nutcracker together. Even though I prefer matinees (when the cast is fresh), I agreed to get us tickets for the evening show so that he wouldn’t have to leave work early. When he wasn’t there at 7pm, I called him and he didn’t answer. Then, when I called him again, his phone was switched off.
I was furious. I spend nearly two decades in these tiny towns so he can live his human fantasy and he can’t even show up for one two hour show? It was the first time since becoming a daywalker that I felt that angry. I was scared about what I might do, so I made myself go home to wait for him.
Only, he never came home that night. At 3am, he sent me a text apologizing and promising to make up our date on Saturday. But the Nutcracker was only playing until Friday and that would be too little, too late. To be honest, it already was. I texted him that and he never responded.
He never ended up coming home last weekend. I texted and called him probably a dozen times and he never responded. I got angrier and angrier as the days dragged by. Did he think I was someone to be taken lightly? Did he not realize that the fragile agreement between us was all that was keeping us from separation?
Yesterday (Monday), I couldn’t take it anymore. If he wasn’t going to come home or respond to my messages, then I would go to him. If he was so obsessed with this new job that he would ignore me for it, then I knew exactly where to find him.
I arrived at his school at 10am. I researched enough to know how to go to the office and sign myself in. I asked the office assistant which room Mr. Duetto was in.
The lovely young woman looked confused. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give that information out to anyone but family,” she said.
“I am his only family,” I said.
She clicked a few more keys and looked more confused. “His paperwork only shows his mother, Delilah Duetto.”
That’s right. His mother. But I still didn’t understand then.
“That’s me,” I said.
“You are not the mother of 17-year-old.”
“I’m his wife,” I said.
She was upset by that. I won’t bore you with every detail, but I had to alter her memories so she wouldn’t call the police. I may not look like someone who has a teenager, but I also don’t look like a teenager. I ended up having to alter her memories so she wouldn’t call human CPS on an apparent adult swearing she was married to a minor.
I went home and broke into his office. There weren’t any lesson plans. There were no graded papers. There were syllabus from different classes, homework with his name on it, and a few polaroids taped to the bottom of his desk of him at a party with children.
Human children. I don’t honestly know which is worse.
(EDIT: I know the child part is the worst part. I misspoke because of my anger. It’s not the humans’ fault that my husband is a pervert.)
I broke into his laptop and used that to check his text messages. He’s been texting like a high schooler. He’s been to parties with them, listened to their problems and even fabricated a few of his own. He’s caught in some sort of weird love triangle where a freshman girl likes him but his “best friend” likes her. He has texted both of them about it, promising his “bro” that nothing is happening and then turning around and leading this girl-child on.
Some choice quotes: I should know better than to get close with you. You and I come from very different worlds
To which she replied, lol maybe we should let our worlds collide
!!!!
I find the entire situation disgusting. Matthew is several centuries older than them and he definitely knows better. He’s literally wearing the sheep’s fleece amongst the flock. He has no business forming relationships with human children and even less pretending to be one of them. He’s not a baby. He is over two centuries old!
What is he doing flirting with a child? It’s vile and disgusting and I was set to kill him for it.
I confronted him about it when he came home last night. I told him that he was sick and dangerous and if he loved humans then he needed to stop immediately. I told him we either left town today or I would make sure he never set foot back in that school in a way he really wouldn’t like.
 He threw a huge tantrum over my invading his privacy. He shouted at me that I had broken my promise to never interfere in his job. He called me controlling and crazy.
I told him he was the crazy one for chatting up a child. He told me he wasn’t, she was just his friend. I asked him to read their texts out loud if he was being so friendly. I also pointed out that there was no way a 260-year-old vampire is a child’s friend.
He told me I was a hypocrite because I basically cradle robbed him (we’re almost 300 years apart.) He said if anyone was disgusting, it was me for taking advantage of him.
I pointed out that he wasn’t a child, he was over 60 and had already been a vampire for four decades. He argued that that was basically being a child in vampire terms.
I was so angry at that point that the house was shaking. I told him if he felt that way, then we could get divorced right then and there. That that was what I wanted to do anyway because I couldn’t be married to a pedophile.
He asked me if I was seriously going to start a blood feud over him immersing himself in human society. I said no, I’m starting a blood feud because he’s become every predatory stereotype humans have of vampires.
He called me a hypocrite again and told me he was leaving. He said not to call him unless I was ready to apologize. I told him that the next time he sees me, he’d better run before I showed him the real difference between us. And it wasn’t just 300 years.
When I calmed down, doubt started creeping in. From an immortal perspective, what he’s doing isn’t really wrong. I hate to say it, but most immortals don’t view human lives as significant. I know a few vampires who would say that divorcing because he’s playing with his food is idiotic.
Plus, there’s the agreement to consider. During our fight, Matthew pointed out that being a student is a job to humans. So therefore I didn’t have the right to interfere. A big part of me thinks that’s bullshit, but a small part of me wonders if he’s maybe right about that?
I also have to ask myself why this even bothers me. I’m the one in the relationship that is aloof from humans. I’m the one that’s always saying we are from different worlds (Yeah, he stole that from me) and for good reason. 
But over the years, I’ve become fond of humans. No immortal makes art like them. I may not remember my time as a mortal, but there are works that give me a sense of nostalgia. Sometimes I think I can remember being a child myself, standing in a field like in Monet painting, staring at the wheatstacks and waiting for the miller to come. 
The thought of Matthew playing with them makes me sick. It’s like even after all the years of him living amongst them, he thinks of them as props in his twisted play. It’s even worse that he’s doing this to children. 
I can’t help but think something went really wrong with my husband when I wasn’t looking. At the very least, I’m planning on divorcing him. But would I be the asshole if I killed him too?
 Separating from him will be violent and messy. There will likely be human casualties. But I don’t see any other way. So, I ask.
AITA for divorcing my husband for lying to me about his human job?
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luvyeni · 2 months ago
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PERSONAS ,, 이제노
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeno is surprised by your persona... both of them ヾ
PORNSTAR!이제노・ CAMGIRL!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ 6.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
𓂃 🎞️ content warning... sex on film, rough-ish sex, oral sex ( M ), unprotected sex, facial
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 finally did a fic based on this photoshoot , doesn’t he look like a 80’s pornstar?
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camgirling was only supposed to be something you did for fun, and the cash you got from it wasn't too bad either — you never expected to blow up like you did, the people really liked you.
when you first started it was slow, but that didn't last long and soon you gained a small following. it wasn't until you did a face reveal that you blew up — the fans loved you; that day alone you gained 100k new followers. from that day on you only grew more; more money rolled in which granted you the ability to move into a bigger apartment, pay off your debts and live comfortably without stress.
“it's your persona” your friends would say; you weren't shy about you did for work; you felt like you didn't need to be — no you weren't telling a stranger on the street you did camgirling , but you didn't hide it from your friends. “you're a walking porn trope.” donghyuck; your best friend said. “innocent girl next door look , but we all saw you deepthroat a 6in dildo without gagging.”
that should've offended you but you were used to it. “yeah , that pigmented blush bows and wide puppy dog eyes is cute and all, but it's that and the fact that you bounced on a 7in strap-on attached to a stuffed bear that turns people on.” ryujin said. “you have a face for porn.”
“is there a difference?” your friends looked at you. “duh , of course!” haechan said. “camgirling is mostly done in the comfort of your own home , low production.” he said. “porn is different, with porn there's a script almost like a movie with a crew , and another actor.” you and ryujin both looked at each other. “uh you seem real passionate about that…” he shrugged. “I'm a man of course i do , that's why i know you would be perfect for porn.”
“what would i get out of bad acting in room full of men with hardon watching me be badly fucked by another macho man on viagra and red bull?” you scoffed. “expect a sore clit and a cumshot to the face that tastes like battery acid?” ryujin looked around the cafe where you were sitting , making sure no one heard the conversation. “would you both keep it down?”
“more money, a new following.” he responded nonchalantly , your ears perked up. “go on.” you said now listening. “well the website you use now, it's big but it's niche , only a few new visitors monthly.” he started. “you do one porn video with a good actor with a good following , bingo! you get a new following from his following and it reaches a bigger audience who stumble across your video.” you had to admit although he was loud and you're pretty sure the sweet old lady walking past heard everything, he talked a big game.
“what are you a porn star scout?” ryujin laughed while taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “wait is that a thing?” he asked, you shook your head. “that does sound good, my rent just went up and there's a new pair of shoes that have been sitting in my cart.” you said. “yn don't do porn for a pair of louboutins and rent , get a roommate.” ryujin said, trying to be the voice of reason. “would you do it?” you asked her.
“i love you so i would never lie to you.” she said. “yeah , give me the script.” the three of you busting out into a fit of laughter. “plus if you don't like it then you can easily go back to camgirling.” she said. “and i don't think all male pornstars are bad.”
“and you know this how?” she looked at you. “you think i don't watch porn?” she questioned. “the acting? horrible but who's watching porn for the plot.” haechan raised his hand. “haechan be fucking for real.” you snickered. “what big dick delivery man and hot lonely milf is a work of art.” he said with a serious face. “oh he serious i think.” ryujin said. “that's the scary thing.”
“you know not all the acting is bad either.” ryujin spoke up. “yeah jeno is good even my dick gets hard when i listen to him speak.” you choose to ignore him. “who's jeno.” you asked. “you don't know jeno? the lee jeno, he's huge in the porn world.” ryujin said, you scoffed. “sorry im not familiar with the ryan reynolds of porn.” you said. “you think ryan reynolds would do porn?”
“lee jeno is a huge pornstar; he doesn't even just do porn , he's a model, he walks on runways as well , he's invited into classy spaces despite showing the world his dick.” the girl explained. “and i heard the girls he fucks on camera…” she said. “those orgasms are real.” haechan nodded in agreement. “i heard that too.”
“if you could get with him, you'd be set.” you rolled your eyes. “if he's as good as you say why the fuck would he film a video with me?” you scoffed. “pussy is pussy and money is money.” ryujin shrugged , the horrified worker walked past making the three of you laugh. “my god ryu , you sound like a man.”
“check him out; i swear you'll understand why he's famous.”
“come in , come in.” you flashed a smile to the camera; this wasn't a camgirl video, but a regular live that you sometimes did because your fans wanted you to — for what? you don't question, they pay you to just talk half naked. “how was everyone's day?”
you read through the comments; thanking the commenters for the donations. “what did i do today?” you read off. “well i ran some errands, got a few new toys.” you smirked. “oh and i had some coffee with some friends.” you said. “they told me i have a face for porn.”
the comments blew up with people agreeing. “i guess you guys agree as well.” you giggled playing into that act they loved so muched, reading more comments.
6inchking. what i would do to film a video with you.
user34.52. fuck yes , i would kill to see you fuck someone else.
allsizesmatter. you should film with lee jeno.
“oh? i keep hearing that name, my friends said the same thing.” you said. “is he really that good? maybe i should watch some of his videos.” you said, rolling your eyes at the comments that were in disbelief that you watched porn. “guys don't be ridiculous , why wouldn't i watch porn?” you laughed, grabbing your phone. “let's look him up.”
you typed into the search bar; waiting for the screen to load. “let's see if he lives up to what everyone says he is.” the screen finally loading, the most finest fucking man popping up on your screen. “oh he's really good looking.” you said scrolling through the many pictures. “really good looking.” you almost forgot you were on live — not only was his face godly , it looked like he was sculpted by the gods himself.
user24.52. look at her , already turned on just by his photos.
user22.63. to be looked at by her liked that.
“guys stop.” you giggled, cheeks red. “he is cute though.” you said. “im already so tired from the day.” you said; and yes you were tired, but you also wanted to watch on of his videos. “am i gonna watch one of his videos?” you smiled innocently , before shrugging. “i guess you guys will never know will you.” you blew a kiss to the camera. “bye bye.” you turned the camera off.
after that you wasted no time, climbing into your bed. your phone in your hand as you get comfortable, reaching over into your nightstand grabbing your rose toy; taking off your panties , pulling down your bra , sighing as the wind hit your nipples. “fuck.” you scrolled through jenos account— he had 5.5 million followers; way more than your messily 345k, he was a big deal.
you scrolled through his videos , settling on the most recent one. clicking the video — normally you'd skip the whole “acting scene” but this guy was known for his good acting so you decided to see for yourself.
you were a little bored at first, but as the scene went on you came to the realization that it was one of the best scenes you'd ever watched when watching porn, even though the actress was good , it almost seemed like regular video — besides the bright production lights and 4k hd cameras , and the fact that the beautiful actress herself was dressed in expensive lingerie and heels. her makeup done to the nines.
and then there was jeno; he was just as fine on video than in camera. his voice alone had you itching to touch yourself, which you did— fingers ghosting over your nipples; eyes closing. you almost forgot about the video, until you heard moaning. you opened your eyes to jeno sticking his cock into the girl. believe it or not , you weren't fucking just anyone , you actually only had sex with a few people , but their sizes compared to his were vastly different.
you understood why he was so famous; jeno was extremely good at his job. it was like you were watching a real couple fuck in their bed; jeno was rough; but not like those horrible videos where it looked like the girl wasn't enjoying it — the way the actresses eyes were crossed, it looked like she was very much enjoying it.
you curled your fingers up into your g-spot, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping hole. your moans , jenos and the actresses filled your empty room. you wanted to drop the phone and just finish already, desperate to cum , but you couldn't, it was like you were in a trance. the actress came with a loud scream. “oh fuck.” you moaned as jeno brought the girl to her knees , cumming all over the girls face — lord how you wished it was you.
your legs crossed over your hand as you came, back arching off the bed. “fuck!” you sighed as you came down from your high , the next random video playing on your phone. you turned it off , desperately trying to catch your breath. he had this effect on you and all you did was watch his videos.
getting up to clean yourself off; washing your body and your hair. getting out , drying off. you threw on an oversized shirt not bothering to put on underwear, it was just you. grabbing a snack before making your way back to bed to watch tv.
meanwhile a few miles away; jeno sat in his chair scrolling through his feed. he hated night shoots , everyone was tired and ready to go home. the actress today just wasn't good , her acting sucked , she was bitching about everything; how she hated the script; how the outfit was ugly — how she wanted him to cum. he was all for women wanting to what they wanted , but damn how was it his fault he wasn't turned on enough to cum as much as she wanted.
“jeno?” his manager and best friend jaemin , walked into his dressing room. “is it time to go?” he said, not looking up. “well … no, she's still complaining, something about you being too big.” jeno smirked. “so we're figuring that out now.” he said. “can we just sat fuck this shoot and go home?” he said. “im doing them a favor, i don't need the money.” he said. “yeah sure.” jaemin said. “what can they do?” he told the assistant on hand to tell them they were leaving. “what did you want?” he said, putting on his sweats. “when? oh to just show you this.”
he pulled the sweatshirt over his head; taking the phone from his friend's hand. “what am i looking at, who is this girl?” he stared at the screen , watching you talk. “she's cute , new girlfriend?”
“i don't date, she's a camgirl.” he scoffed at his friend. “her?” he looked at you once again. “stop fucking around her?” you looked so innocent, dressed like a doll , cute makeup, cheeks extremely pink from blush, normally jeno thinks that makeup look is crazy, but you made it work. “she doesn't even look like she's seen a porn film.”
“not everything is what it seems my friend look.” he clicked another video— and he swore he was watching another girl. “did she just?” jeno was shocked. “yes , she did.” his friend smirked while he stared in shock as he watched you take a 9in toy down your throat without gagging. “no gag reflex , if she has a boyfriend he's a lucky fucking bastard.”
jeno pushed the phone away; not that he didn't want to see it, but he also didn't want to cum in his pants to a video in front of his friend. “why are you showing me this?” he said. “you know i don't do camming.”
“yeah , but people want you both to collaborate. apparently she talked about you today and the internet is going crazy.” jaemin said. “she has good following , not as big as yours , but that shouldn't even matter , bro she doesn't have a gag reflex , i’d do it for fun.” jeno picked his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder. “does she even have a manager? does she even want to do porn? why am i asking the questions that i pay you to already have answered before coming to me?”
“she's a independent artist i think, but I'm sure she'd answer a dm.” jeno lifted his eyebrow. “yeah , because she'd answer a random message asking her does she want to do porn , bro she gets those messages daily.” he said. “im sure i could work it out.” he said. “well then come back to me when you do.” jeno slapped his friends chest. “now let's go im hungry.” he said. “i’ll send you that link to the full video , you have to see it.”
“which one did you watch?” haechan asked. “why are we having this conversation right now?” you said cheeks red. “you've literally told us about how you — the recent one.” you interrupted ryujin before she embarrassed you. “i watched the recent one.” she nodded. “oh that one is good, that actress is hot.” she said , hyuck nodding in agreement. “she is.”
“she was, they both were.” you said. “and the acting was good , i actually watched it.” haechan pointed. “told you sometimes the plot just hits.”
“i thought i was watching a couple fucking, either one , that actress is in the wrong business or two , he's a good fucker and she wasn't acting.” you said. “she actually looked excited for him to cum on her.” you could still hear the moans playing in your head. “okay snap out of it , no one wants to watch you get turned on in public.” ryujin said , haechan scoffed. “speak for yourself.”
you laughed , your phone buzzing making you break away from the conversation; it was a message from twitter dm. you ignored it , thinking it was a normal everyday dm from a fan. you sat your phone down only for it to go off multiple times. “girl you got a boyfriend we don't know about? who the hell is texting you like that?” ryujin picked up your phone. “probably a weird fan, im gonna close my dms”
that didn't stop ryujin from clicking the messages, ready to troll the person. “oh girl , i don't think so.” she handed you the device back. “what is it?”
reading through the text messages. “what is it , don't leave me out.” haechan whined. “it's from jenos manager.” ryujin said , haechan sat up from his seat. “what let me see.” he snatched the phone. “oh my god , jeno wants to film with you.” he said. “it's like the porn gods answered us.”
“must you act like a neanderthal? it's probably a fake account.” haechan clicked the account. “it's verified and there's pictures of them together , they seem close.” he said. “he wants you to call him , he gave you a number to call.” he gave you back the phone. “oh my god let's go back to yours so you can call.”
they basically dragged you back to your apartment after that, forcing you to call the boy. “you both have to shut the fuck up if i put it on speaker.” you said typing down the number into the keypad. “probably about to call a random guy just so he can jerk off to my voice.” you pushed the call button. “don't you do that already.” you scoffed. “yeah but i get paid for it.”
the three of you sitting around the bed waiting for them to answer. “hello?” you picked up the phone. “is this na jaemin?” you said. “yes is this yn? i know your voice— wait, not like that.” your two friends snickered. “it's fine, i almost didn't call you, i thought you were a weird fan.”
“understandable; it's probably a weird text , but it me and everything i sent was true.” he said. “it is?” your eyes widened. “s-so he really does want to film with me?” you asked. “yes , he does.” you wanted to squeal , but you didn't want to seem desperate. “oh that's cool.” you said. “oh that's cool?” ryujin whispered to herself. “shut up.” you gritted through your teeth. “excuse me.”
“oh nothing.” you said. “oh okay, well first thing, we set up a meeting with you both.” he said. “just so when you film it won't be too awkward , then we film.”
“that's it?” you said. “that's it , you both show up to film, we'll provide everything else for you.” you looked at your friends who nodded their heads. “how does that sound?” he said. “i guess that's fine.” you said. “great! i’ll let him know, are you free tomorrow?”
“tomorrow? uh yeah sure im free.” you said. “great i'll send the address where to meet us see you tomorrow!” you hung up the phone. “oh my god i can't believe that just happened.” you tossed the phone down on the bed. “this is crazy , you get to film with lee jeno.” haechan said. “i almost want to be in your shoes.”
the next day you got ready for the meeting; putting on your best outfit — so you wouldn't feel so nervous, and maybe to impress them a little. jaemin had sent you the address the night before and lucky for you it was in walking distance from your place. “im almost there's , so I'll call you back when it's over.” you said the restaurant in your view. “you better and be careful , just cause there hasn't been a serial killer porn star, doesn't mean there can't be one.” ryujin ordered. “okay im here.”
you quickly said your goodbyes, before hanging up. you reached for the door , walking into the restaurant. you looked down at your phone, ready to send the man a text when someone tapped your shoulders. “yn?”
“oh hi.” you smiled. “i was just about to text you.” you put your phone away. “you're right on time , jeno is over there.” he said “let's go.” your hands were sweating from nerves as you approached the table , the man himself coming into view. “don't be nervous, he's not as intimidating as he looks on camera.” he said. “jeno.”
the boy looked up from his phone; and he almost did a double take. you really didn't look like what you did for work; gorgeous? yes. but he just couldn't see you doing what he saw you do the night before. “oh shit.” he stood up. “hey.” he said , holding his hands out. you reached for his hand , shaking it. “h-hi.”
“both of you sit down , sit down and get comfortable.” jaemin said. “before i give you some space , let's go over the details.” he sat down. “okay.” you smiled.
jeno didn't need to listen; jaemin would just repeat it over for him — instead he just looked at you, studying you. he watched you fiddle with your nails while listening to his friend intently. his eyes traveling down to your lips, biting the bottom one. “jeno?” jaemin knocked him out of his thoughts. “what?” he watched you shuffle in your seat. “i said you understand all that?”
“yeah , yeah i do.” he said. jaemin knew he didn't , but he'd explain later. “we filming on wednesday, it will only take one day , but it's a all day shoot is that fine?” you nodded. “of course.” you said. “that works for me.”
“good , now i'll give you both some time to get to know each other.” he stood up. “i’ll get you both some food as well.” he walked away. “thank you.” you called out, it fully hit you that you were left alone with jeno again , he smirked watching you shy away once again. “i guess this is the real you.”
“h-huh?” you asked , he sat up; putting his elbows on the table, watching you. “the bows really do change how one would look at you.” your hand came to your head. “no , keep them in , don't take them out.” your hands immediately went to your lap. “cute.”
“me-me?” you gulped. “is anyone else sitting there love?” your cheeks were flushed , to jeno it was like your already pink cheeks were now red. “here you guys go.” jaemin came back with two plates. “i ordered enough steak for you to share , and some pasta.” he said. “i’ll leave you two , jeno play nice , she's perfect for this and we don't need you scaring her off.”
“go ahead.” he said. “eat.” you picked up the fork nervously, picking up a slice of the meat. “now put to your mouth and eat it.” it felt like he was gonna eat you alive , you put the steak to your mouth , biting it. “good girl , i can already tell im gonna like you.”
“so tell me , why'd you want to do this?” jeno asked. “do-do what?” you asked. “do I need to spell it out baby , porn what made you want to do this?” he said. “most camgirls stick to that.” you sat the fork down , taking a sip of water. “well it's kinda stupid.” you said , he waved you off. “tell me.” he said. “well my friends told me i’d be good at it.” you said. “and you just listened to them?” he raised his eyebrows. “you must agree with them.”
“i guess.” you said. “i didn't really understand what they meant by that.” he sat back listening. “i do.” he really did , truth is jeno spent the night before watching your past streams , and fuck did you put on a performance. he had to force himself to put his phone down before he started shooting blanks , his hands and his cock covered in his cum as your moans played over and over on his phone. “well why do you do it?”
“me?” he asked , shrugging. “because i like to fuck.” he laughed, watching your eyes widen. “don't look so surprised baby it's really not that surprising,” he said. “i like to fuck and i like making money , why not do both?” jeno never wanted to be a pornstar , his main dream was to be a model , turns out it wasn't that easy — but it was easy to pick up a camera and film himself fucking. “b-but you're a model , you don't need to do this.”
“you're right i don't , but here we are.” he eyed you up and down , eyes shamelessly stopping at your bust. “just like you.” he said. “y-yeah.”
“you've watched a few of my videos haven't you?” he asked. “i watched yours.” you wanted to lie , but how could you when he was being so truthful. “a few.” you gulped. “so you know im not gonna go easy on you right?” the way he talked so confidently it sent shivers down your spine. “but im sure you can take it right?” your body hot. “i mean im bigger than what you've taken but im sure you can learn to take it right?”
“i can take it.” you said, quickly covering your mouth. “yeah? let's see on thursday.” he bit his lip. “give me your phone.” he said. “here.” you handed it to him. “you listen well , i fucking love that.” he typed down his number. “i don't give my number out to every actress.” he said, handing you your phone back , jaemin returning back to the table. “we have to go soon.”
“that's too bad , we were just getting to know each other.” reaching for your card. “relax , im paying.” jeno said. “i-i have money.” you said. “i'm sure you do , but i didn't ask.” he said. “yn do you need a uber?” jaemin asked, but you were too busy making googly eyes at jeno. “oh no , i-i live a few minutes away.” jaemin nodded. “well it was nice to meet you , why don't you head out first and we'll stay behind and settle this.” you smiled. “thank you.”
“just show up on wednesday as you are ready to film.” you nodded. “of course!” you smiled, about to walk away when jeno grabbed your hand. “your phone love.” you took it from his hands. “thank you.” and just like that , the boys watched you leave out. “you done making googly eyes?” jaemin said. “can i take you home so i can get to my date?” jeno rolled his eyes. “hey don't get upset with me, nothing stopped you from following behind her and getting a pre show of wednesday.”
wednesday came quick; you have a busy few days before — you wanted everything perfect , getting your hair done; waxing your eyebrows and other areas. you hadn't used the number jeno gave you , scared to use it , even though your friends encouraged you too. “you're about to have his cock inside you , this phone call would be nothing.”
still you didn't budge; it probably didn't even bother the boy, he could've easily called someone else.
the production had arranged for a car to pick you up from your place to take you to a location; you read the script on the way there , it was a simple script since it was your first project on this scale — something about neighbors. it really didn't matter to you, you were excited but nervous. “we're here miss.” it was an actual house; a nice one.
you got up to the car , thanking the driver. “okay.” you said to yourself. “let's do this.” you said, the door was open so you just walked in , people running around, cameras and lights everywhere. “you must be yn?” a woman came up to you. “hi?” you said. “you are?” she smiled. “im kim , I run the production company that films the videos jeno is in.” she said. “you do?”
“yes i do; is it a little weird because im a woman?” you shook your head. “no of course not!” you said she laughed. “we're all about comfortability, to make sure you and the actor are both comfortable.” she said. “jeno is already on set , he's normally never here early.” she said. “actually he's normally late.” she said. “but enough about him , let's get you to your dressing room.”
she guided you to your room, opening the door. “this is your first shoot so i wanted to make sure everything was perfect.” she held your back guiding you in. “we have a stylist that will help you , along with make up who will make you even more beautiful.” she was extremely nice. “thank you so much.” you said. “don't worry about it , just get relaxed and ready to film some scenes.” she said. “the stylist will be in here soon , make-up as well.”
she left you alone after that , you looked around the room , she laid out a display of snacks that made you smile — your phone ringing , you took it out of your pocket , furrowing your eyebrows at the unrecognizable number. “so your phone does work.” you recognized the room , whipping around. “je-jeno.”
he walked into the room. “it's been a busy week.” you said. “yeah?” you nodded. “you aren't wearing the bows today,” he said. “gonna tell the stylist to change that.” you nervously took a step back. “i like the bows , let's put them in the movie.” you nodded. “ok-okay.” he was close enough to smell his cologne. “relax , im not gonna bite.” he said. “at least not now.” you squeaked as he pressed against you. “later im not promising anything.”
“i could definitely take you right here right now.” he confessed. “give you a quick training on taking me before later.” he said, his body looming over you. “but i kinda want to wait until later.” he smirked , your knees almost buckling under you. “let's wait until later, yeah?” he said. “ye-yeah.” you sighed in relief when he stepped back , finally letting you breathe. “i’ll see you in a bit love.”
you didn't have time to process what just happened before the stylist and the makeup artist both shuffled in. “out jeno out we have to get her ready.” he was quickly pushed out. “gosh.” the stylist said. “he's never here this early all of sudden he's early.” the makeup artist turned to you. “well there's the reason right there, you are gorgeous.” you smiled. “th-thank you.”
“let's get you ready.”
the outfit wasn't much different from what you normally wear , just a lingerie version meaning it was much shorter; so short you could see your ass , poking from your panties — but it was still cute. “you look pretty.” the stylist said, picking up the bows. “per jenos request, hope you don't mind.” she placed the bow in your hair. “done.”
they left , kim returning soon after. “you ready.” you nodded. “let's go.” she guided you to the front where the scene would take place , the cameras ready. “yn , hey.” jaemin said. “oh hi.” you waved back. “you look nice , you ready?” you nodded. “i'm a little nervous , this is much different than my room.”
“don't worry about it; it's your first big production.” he said. “just do your best.” he reassured you. “jeno is done with make-up so we should be starting — five minutes!” someone shouted , you giggled. “in five minutes.” he said. “good luck.”
“the scene starts with you in the kitchen.” the producer guided you to the kitchen , leaving you alone. you leaned over the counter , scrolling through your phone while you waited. “you look too good right now.” jeno caged you in between his arms. “th-thank you , you smell nice.” it just slipped out your mouth. “oh , i-i di-didn’t — you smell nice too.” he said , your cheeks were already red enough. “makes me want to eat you up right here.” he didn't know how much he really was effecting you , anymore of what he would be doing and you'd be begging him to fuck you right there. “okay actors , get in position!”
“good luck princess.” he walked away, leaving you to pull yourself together and get ready for the scene. “are they actors ready?” everyone got into position. “okay, rolling in 5…4…3…2…1 , start !”
the scene went exceptionally well; it was build up scene that leads up to the actual sex scene — but even those scenes were hot and heavy; at least jeno made it like that. it took a few hours to film , making sure to get every angle. “okay great, the next scene jeno you what to do.”
jeno didn't know if he had it in him; the resistance as the camera guy yelled for the scene to start again — the strength to hold himself together once he got his lips on you; he was a professional, but with you it felt like his very first scene.
“you can do what you want.” you spoke up , back into character , you were a natural — almost like you were talking to him outside of character. “what did you say?” he said , damn near forgetting his line. you looked down at your fingers. “to me , you can do what you want to me.”
there was the girl from the streams; it flicked just like that; your other persona , the one from the restaurant that told him you could take it — and he was about to put it to the test. “i can?” his big hand wrapping around your neck. “you don't know me that well but you'd let me do what i want to you?”
that was basically your current situation with the man; yeah you had only met him four days ago, but you'd let him do whatever he wanted , on and off camera. “y-yes.”
“that's real whore like of you.” his hand squeezed your throat. “real whore like.” he said, slamming his lips against yours. unfortunately the scene took place on a couch so he didn't have much room to work with , but it didn't mean anything to him — besides he'll just fuck you into your mattress on another day.
the kiss was rough; his hand squeezing your throat as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. “fuck.” he cursed, pulling away. “get on your knees.” he pushed you down , the camera close to your face as he unbuckled his pants. “gonna fuck your face.” he pulled his cock out , it was definitely bigger than the dildos you were use to. “hey.” he slapped your face. “come on, be a good whore and suck my cock.”
he grabbed the base of his cock , slapping it on your cheek. “open slut.” he shoved his length inside your mouth , and much like your previous streams , you took him into your throat without gagging. “yeah , fuck swallowing my fucking cock like that.” he groaned , holding the back of your head moving you up and down on his thick length , also moving his hips. “cock sucking slut , how many cocks has this throat taken?”
he was using your mouth; the cameras all there filming it turned you on even more , the many people watching in the room as he fucked your face made you hornier. “yeah fuck!” he had to force himself out of you so he wouldn't cum fast. “get up.” he pulled you up , throwing you to the couch. “ass up, now slut.”
he pulled the dress up , revealing the matching color set they put you in. “dumb slut is wet from sucking cock.” he slapped your ass , you moaned , he pulled your panties down , your folds covered in your slick. “messy pussy , gonna stuff you full of my cock.” he maneuvered your body on the small couch. “arch your back.”
he pushed your head down on the couch seat. “gonna make you take it all at once.” your whimpering turned into screams as he abruptly shoved his entire length into your pussy. “hell you're fucking tight.” he groaned , pulling out slamming back inside. “fuck!” he began to fuck into you , holding the back of your neck. “such a whore.”
his thrust were brutal and unrelentless; the camera catching everything — his cock stretching you out more than you've ever been, the squelching sounds from your cunt it was embarrassing, having people hear that ; but the embarrassment soon was forgotten as he went deeper. “my fuck -oh my- oh my fucking god.”
he let out a lust filled chuckle. “so stupid baby.” he slapped your ass. “my cock really made your brain turn to mush.” he abruptly pulled out of you , slapping your ass , your legs shook. “turn around.” he flipped you on your back.
you looked up at him with teary wide eyes. but he could see the lust in them. “that innocent look doesn't work on me.” he slapped your cunt. “i can see through whores like you.” he lined his cock up with your hole. “innocent looking but ready to take any cock they can get.”
this new angle had you reaching for anything , jenos arm; the couch cushion — his cock had you grabbing at the air. he pulled down the front of the lingerie , your tits now bouncing along with his thrust. the rumors proving to be true as you felt your orgasm approaching. “you're clenching around me , fuck your pussy is suffocating my cock.” he growled. “fuck im gonna cum!” you screamed out. “cum slut , wet my cock with your cum.”
he had your legs open wide , holding your shaking thighs. “cum.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came, soaking his stomach and the seat below you. a high pitched moan coming from your mouth as he kept going. “fuck keep cumming on my cock.” he slapped your poor clit rubbing rubbing it. “yeah im gonna - fuck - im gonna cum.” he groaned. “fuck im gonna cum all over your face.”
he pulled out of your twitching hole , standing over your face , stroking his cock. the camera was up close again as he came — and he came a lot. he groaned, throwing his head back as he covered you in his seed. “fuck.”
you laid out on the couch , his thumb still rubbing at your clit as your reached your final orgasm , your thighs shaking uncontrollably. “cut!”
jeno almost forgot about the camera; ready to bring you to another orgasm. “je-jeno.” your shaking voice pulled him from his horny state. “shit im sorry.” he pulled away , desperately wanting to taste you. “almost made you squirt again.” he smirked. “now how would we explain that? because the camera is off.”
“get her a cover.” he shouted , someone running over to you both , he covered your body. “jeno.” they handed him a robe. “you did so good.” the staff handing you fluids. “felt like watching a couple have sex , you're a natural girl.” you nodded with a smile. “are you a natural princess?” jeno spoke up once they were gone. “or is it because those screams were real?”
you lowered your head , shying away from his gaze. “don't hide from me now , i know your real persona , and these cameras maybe done rolling, but i'm not done with you yet.” he whispered , just as you were pulled from your seat by a staff member and whisked back to your room. “you ready to go?” jaemin came over. “no need to drive me home tonight,” he said. “why not?” asked Jaemin.
“because im not going home tonight.”
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©️LUVYENI
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aceyalonso · 2 months ago
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pretty in pink - CARLOS SAINZ
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pairing : carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader kinktober day 16 - lingerie
summary : spending 23 grand on a shopping spree? that's something only y/n can do, but of course the money spent will always be worth it, especially when she gets something that can benefit her and carlos
warnings/notes : swearing, a bit of plot, smut, spit, nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, anal sex, mention and use of sex toys, gagging, praise kink, explicit photography (with consent of course)
word count : 5.7k
a/n : sorry if this took so long, i was so busy these past few days
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist | taglist form
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Y/n walked through the front door, arms laden with shopping bags. "I'm home!" she called out cheerfully, expecting Carlos to greet her. When there was no response, she assumed he must still be asleep after his training session this morning.
Humming to herself, Y/n made her way to the kitchen, setting her purchases down on the counter. She opened the refrigerator door, bending over to grab a bottle of water.
Suddenly, strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her back against a firm chest. Y/n let out a startled yelp, heart leaping into her throat as she spun around.
Carlos grinned down at her, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well hello there, beautiful," he purred, voice low and husky. "Welcome home."
Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling back. "You scared me half to death, you jerk," she laughed, playfully swatting his chest. "I thought you were asleep."
Carlos chuckled, his hands sliding down to rest on Y/n's hips. "Oh, I was sleeping like a baby...until the bank called to ask if my credit card had been stolen. Apparently, someone went on quite the shopping spree today."
Y/n bit her lip, trying to look innocent. "I may have gone a little overboard," she admitted sheepishly. "But you know how it is when the girls drag you out shopping. One minute you're just browsing, and the next you've maxed out three credit cards."
Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused. "Eight thousand dollars at Sephora? What exactly did you buy, love? The entire store?"
Y/n giggled, leaning into him. "Maybe. But you should see the new eyeshadow palettes I got! They're to die for."
"And don't even get me started on Victoria's Secret," Carlos teased, his hands dipping lower. "Fifteen grand? I think that's more than the GDP of some small countries."
Y/n giggled, playfully swatting Carlos' chest. "C'mon, don't be such a killjoy! I got it for you!"
Realizing how that sounded, her eyes widened and she backpedaled quickly. "Wait, no, that came out wrong! I didn't buy you lingerie to wear, I swear!"
Carlos raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Really? Because I have to say, I'm a bit interested in this... development."
"No, no, nothing like that!" Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "I just figured you'd like seeing me in some of the new sets I got. You know, for your viewing pleasure and all that."
She bit her lip, a coy smile playing on her lips. "I'll model them for you after dinner, if you'd like. Give you a little private fashion show."
Carlos' eyes darkened, his gaze raking over her appreciatively. "Mmm, I think I'd like that very much, amor."
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After dinner, Y/n led Carlos to their bedroom, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I have three sets to show you tonight," she purred, her hands sliding up his chest. "And I think you're going to like them very much."
She disappeared into the walk-in closet for a moment before emerging in a stunning white lingerie set. The bra was all lace and delicate straps, barely containing her ample breasts. The matching thong was equally skimpy, hugging her hips and leaving little to the imagination.
"What do you think?" Y/n asked, doing a slow spin. The white lace contrasted beautifully against her golden skin, making her look like a naughty angel.
Carlos' eyes darkened with lust, his hands flexing at his sides. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You look gorgeous."
Y/n smiled, pleased by Carlos' reaction. "Thank you, baby," she purred, giving him a quick smile before sauntering back into the closet to change into the next set.
A moment later, she emerged in a stunning blue satin ensemble. The bra was a plunging push-up style, making her breasts look even more voluptuous than usual. The high-waisted panties hugged her curves, the satin smooth and cool against her skin.
"What do you think of this one?" Y/n asked, striking a pose. She ran her hands down her sides, tracing the curves of her waist and hips. "I thought the color would bring out my eyes."
Carlos' mouth went dry at the sight of her, his cock already starting to harden in his shorts. "It does," he managed, his voice strained. "It brings out how fucking sexy you are."
Y/n chuckled, her eyes flickering down to the growing bulge in Carlos' shorts. "Whoa there, big boy," she teased, sauntering closer to him. "We've got one more set to go. You need to calm down before you explode."
She reached out, trailing a finger along the waistband of his shorts, feeling the heat of his skin. "Although," she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "I can't blame you. I'd be pretty excited too if I had a sexy girlfriend parading around in lingerie."
Carlos groaned, his hips bucking into her touch. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his hands settling on her hips. "You're killing me here."
Y/n grinned, giving his bulge a little squeeze before stepping back. "Patience, Carlos," she said, placing a peck on the corner of his lips. "The best is yet to come."
With that, she turned and headed back to the closet to change into the final set, leaving Carlos aching and wanting.
Y/n emerged from the closet for the final time, and Carlos' breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a soft baby pink set, the color he loved most on her. The bra was a delicate lace bralette, barely containing her full breasts. The matching thong was equally sweet, a tiny bow adorning the front.
"This one's my favorite," Carlos said hoarsely, his eyes devouring her. "You look absolutely stunning, Y/n."
Y/n smiled, pleased by his reaction. She did a little twirl, the fabric riding up to reveal the curve of her ass. "I'm glad you like it," she purred, walking towards him. "I picked it just for you."
She stopped in front of him, looping her arms around his neck. "So, what do you think of the whole collection?" she asked, pressing her body against his. "Did I do a good job?"
Carlos nodded, his lips brushing against Y/n's skin as he spoke. "Mhm," he murmured between kisses, his hands sliding down to grip her hips.
He pressed his mouth to her abdomen, trailing kisses across her soft skin. "Turn around for me, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to see the back again."
Y/n shivered at the command in his tone, and the way he took charge. She obeyed without hesitation, slowly turning in a circle so he could admire the view.
The thong rode up as she moved, revealing the curve of her ass and the tiny pink thong nestled between her cheeks. Carlos groaned, his hands flexing with the urge to grab and squeeze.
Carlos' eyes darkened with lust as Y/n turned, revealing the tantalizing view of her ass barely covered by the thin pink thong. "Dios mio," he breathed, his hands flexing with the urge to grab and squeeze. "Can I rip it off?"
"Carlos, no," Y/n protested weakly, even as a thrill raced through her at his intensity. "I just bought this a few hours ago."
But he was already moving, his large hands gripping her hips and spinning her back around. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric of the thong and ripped, the sound of tearing lace filling the room.
Y/n gasped as the flimsy garment gave way, Carlos tossing it aside carelessly. He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her with a predatory gleam in his eye.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands roaming over her bare skin. "I can't wait to ruin you."
Y/n whined as Carlos manhandled her, his rough treatment sending a thrill through her body despite her protests. "Carlos, c'mon," she pleaded, even as her hips bucked up against him. "I really liked that set."
Carlos just grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "Sorry, baby," he purred, nipping at her earlobe. "But you look even better out of it."
He kissed down her neck, his hands sliding under her to unhook the delicate bra. With a flick of his fingers, the clasp came undone, and he tossed the lacy garment aside.
Y/n's breasts spilled free, and Carlos groaned at the sight. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growled, cupping the soft mounds in his hands. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out to tease a pebbled nipple.
She arched into the touch, a moan escaping her lips. "Carlos," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Please..."
Carlos paused, looking up at Y/n with a raised eyebrow. "Please what?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Are you asking me to stop ruining your pretty lingerie?"
Y/n bit her lip, shaking her head. "No," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not asking you to stop."
A slow, wicked grin spread across Carlos' face. "That's what I thought," he purred, his lips curving into a smirk.
He continued his journey down her body, his kisses growing more heated as he went. He nuzzled the soft skin of her belly, his stubble rasping against her sensitive flesh.
Lower and lower he went, until his face was level with her pelvis. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. "I'll buy you another pair of this set tomorrow," he promised, his voice muffled against her skin. "But for now..."
Carlos dipped his head between Y/n's thighs, his tongue delving into her folds with sensual, deliberate strokes. He took his time, savoring the taste of her, the way she writhed and moaned beneath him.
"Carlos, baby," Y/n gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "So good, god you're so good."
She ground against his face, her hips bucking as she chased her pleasure. But Carlos wasn't having it. He pushed her hips back down, holding her in place.
"Calm down, mi amor," he murmured against her skin, his voice vibrating through her. "I've got you. Just relax and let me take care of you."
Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. But she forced herself to still, trusting Carlos to bring her to the heights of ecstasy.
Carlos rewarded her obedience with a long, slow lick, his tongue swirling around her clit. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, building her pleasure steadily.
Carlos continued his assault on Y/n's pussy, his tongue delving deep, savoring every inch of her. He wasn't rushing, wasn't devouring her like a starved man. No, he was taking his time, committing every taste, every texture to memory.
The way she dripped onto his tongue, coating his taste buds with her essence. The little gasps and moans she made, music to his ears. The way her thighs trembled on either side of his head, her body surrendering to his touch.
He was messy, spit dripping down his chin, smearing across his cheeks. But he didn't care. All that mattered was Y/n, her pleasure, her satisfaction.
Carlos kept his mouth firmly planted between Y/n's thighs, his tongue delving deep into her soaked folds. God, she was so wet, her arousal coating his chin and dripping down onto the sheets below.
He moaned against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. His nose bumped against her clit with each thrust of his tongue, the sensitive bundle of nerves throbbing with need.
Y/n's legs slowly wrapped around his head, her heels digging into his back as she pulled him closer. "Fuck, baby," she panted, her fingers tightening in his hair. "Keep going, it feels so good. Like that, just like that."
Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against Carlos' face as he devoured her. She gasped as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance, circling the sensitive flesh but not quite penetrating.
"I want more, Carlos," she whimpered, her voice high and needy. "I want your fingers inside."
Carlos obliged, slowly pushing one finger into her tight heat. He groaned at the feel of her, hot and wet and perfect around him. He pumped his finger in and out, curling it to hit that special spot inside her.
Y/n keened, her back arching off the bed as he fingered her. "Yes, yes, just like that," she chanted, her walls clenching around his digits. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Carlos thrust his middle finger deep into Y/n's pussy, the longest digit providing the perfect stretch. She moaned loudly, her legs shaking as he pumped in and out, curling his finger to hit her G-spot with each stroke.
Her body seemed to be at war with itself, her legs trembling and threatening to close, but her pussy clenching greedily around his finger, silently begging for more.
Carlos could feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around him, her moans growing higher and more desperate. He doubled his efforts, adding a second finger and rubbing her clit with his thumb.
"That's it, baby," he growled against her skin. "Cum for me. Let me feel you."
Y/n's body tensed, her orgasm building slowly but surely. It took a few moments, but when it finally hit, it crashed over her like a pile of falling bricks.
Her back arched off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. It was as if they were in a soundproof room, her moans echoing off the walls, filling the space with the symphony of her ecstasy.
Carlos worked her through it, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on her sensitive flesh. He lapped at her clit, drawing out her climax until she was a writhing, trembling mess beneath him.
Finally, she collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Carlos gently withdrew his fingers, pressing a tender kiss to her inner thigh.
Carlos continued his worship of Y/n's body, his lips trailing kisses up and down her trembling thighs. He took his time, savoring the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips.
Then, unable to resist any longer, he dipped his head back between her legs, his tongue delving into her soaked folds once more. Y/n gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his mouth.
He ate her out with fervor, his tongue swirling around her clit, dipping into her entrance, lapping up her essence. Y/n shook beneath him, her hands fisting in the sheets as she tried to anchor herself against the onslaught of sensation.
Carlos could feel her getting close again, her walls fluttering around his tongue, her moans growing higher and more desperate. He doubled his efforts, determined to bring her to the edge once more.
Y/n's hands fisted in Carlos' hair, tugging him closer as he devoured her. "Baby, you feel so good," she panted, her hips rocking against his face. "Keep going, don't stop."
Carlos growled in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep, lapping at her walls, flicking rapidly over her clit.
Y/n's thighs began to tremble, her body tensing as her second orgasm approached. "Carlos, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." she gasped, her words dissolving into a high, keening moan as she came undone.
Carlos worked her through it, his mouth never leaving her pussy, prolonging her pleasure until she was a boneless, satisfied mess beneath him.
Y/n came again and again, her body shaking with the force of her orgasms. Carlos gentled his touch, his tongue lapping softly at her sensitive flesh as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
He pulled back, pressing tender kisses to her trembling thighs. "You're so pretty when you cum," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "The way you shake, the sounds you make... it's the hottest thing I've ever seen."
Y/n whimpered, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Carlos' words, combined with the feeling of his lips on her skin, sent a fresh surge of arousal through her.
"More," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need more, Carlos. Please..."
Carlos trailed kisses up Y/n's body, leaving a trail of hickies in his wake. He nipped at her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point. "Can you take more, mi amor?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're already shaking so much..."
Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. "Yes," she gasped, her nails raking down his back. "I need more, Carlos. Please, I can take it. I want it all."
Carlos grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "As you wish," he purred, his hand sliding down to palm her ass. "But first..."
He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming her, tasting himself on her lips. Y/n moaned into the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, her body arching into his touch.
Carlos' hand slid from Y/n's ass to her lower back, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on her skin. "The panties would look pretty with that buttplug I got you," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You know, the one with the pink heart gem?"
Y/n nodded, a shiver running through her at the mention of the toy. "I was planning to use it soon," she admitted, her voice breathy with anticipation.
Carlos smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "It's such a shame though," he purred, his fingers dipping lower, teasing the cleft of her ass. "I already ripped the panties."
Y/n gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily at the touch. "Carlos," she whimpered, her voice a mix of need and frustration. "You're such a tease."
"All part of the fun, mi amor," he chuckled, his fingers continuing their maddening dance. "Now, where did I put that thing?"
Y/n pointed to the nightstand beside the bed. "I think it's in there," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Your side."
Carlos released her, rolling over to rummage through the drawer. He pulled out the pink heart-shaped buttplug, holding it up triumphantly. "Found it," he grinned, crawling back over to Y/n.
He ran the smooth metal over her lips, letting her taste the cold surface. "Open up, baby," he instructed, pressing the tip to her mouth. "Get it nice and wet for me."
Y/n parted her lips, taking the buttplug into her mouth. She sucked on it, her tongue swirling around the base, coating it liberally with saliva.
Y/n looked up at Carlos through her lashes, her eyes wide and innocent, the buttplug still nestled between her lips. She sucked on it slowly, sensually, her cheeks hollowing as she applied suction.
"Fuck, you're so cute," Carlos groaned, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight. "Such a good girl, getting your toy all wet for me."
He reached out, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her plump bottom lip. "That's enough, mi amor," he murmured, gently withdrawing the buttplug from her mouth. "Time to put it to better use."
Y/n whimpered softly, her eyes following the movement of the toy as Carlos positioned it at her entrance. He pressed the tip against her, applying gentle pressure, watching her face intently for any sign of discomfort.
Y/n moaned as she felt the cool metal of the buttplug pressing against her sensitive skin. Carlos watched her face intently, gauging her reaction as he slowly pushed the toy inside her.
"That's it, baby," he crooned, his voice low and encouraging. "Just relax and let it in. You're doing so well."
She continued to whimper, her hands fisting in the sheets as the buttplug stretched her, filling her in a way she hadn't experienced before. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one, and as Carlos twisted the base, the pink heart-shaped jewel nestled snugly between her cheeks.
"There," he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Don't you look pretty with your new toy."
Carlos helped Y/n onto her hands and knees, admiring the way her ass jutted out, the buttplug nestled snugly between her cheeks. He ran his hands over her curves, spreading her open, exposing her most intimate parts.
"Can I take a picture, mi amor?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. "I want to remember this moment forever."
Y/n hesitated, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Mhm," she murmured, nodding shyly. "But... but don't show anyone, okay?"
Carlos chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the small of her back. "Of course not, baby," he assured her. "These pictures are for me and me only to enjoy."
He grabbed his phone, snapping a few shots from various angles, capturing Y/n in all her vulnerable, exposed glory. Each click of the shutter sent a thrill through him, the knowledge that he was the only one who would ever see these images, that he had her complete trust.
Carlos groaned, his eyes roaming over Y/n's exposed body. "Fuck, you're so pretty baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire.
He quickly shed his shorts and boxers, his hard cock springing free, bobbing between his legs. He moved behind Y/n, gripping her hips, holding her in place as he teased the tip of his cock against her entrance.
He rubbed it back and forth, catching on her clit with each pass, making her gasp and shudder. "Look at you," he purred, his fingers digging into her hips. "So wet and ready for me. I can't wait to be inside you."
Y/n whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Carlos chuckled darkly, continuing his maddening tease, keeping her on edge, making her ache for his touch.
She panted, her hips wiggling back against Carlos. "Carlos, I want more," she pleaded, her voice high and needy.
Carlos smiled, pushing just the tip of his cock inside her. Y/n moaned, her walls fluttering around him, trying to draw him deeper.
"That's it, baby," Carlos purred, reaching around to wiggle the buttplug. Y/n cried out, her body shaking as the toy shifted inside her, sending sparks of pleasure racing up her spine.
Even with just the tip inside her, Y/n was moaning like she was in a porno, her body responding to every touch, every tease. Carlos grinned, loving the effect he had on her, the way he could reduce her to a writhing, desperate mess with just a few well-placed touches.
Carlos grabbed a fistful of Y/n's hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail. "This pretty mouth of yours needs to shut up this time around, okay?" he growled, his voice low and commanding. "You were so loud earlier, we already had noise complaints last week because of you."
He reached for her ripped panties, balling them up and pressing them into her mouth. Y/n's eyes widened, a muffled whimper escaping her as he tied the fabric around her head, effectively gagging her.
"There," Carlos purred, admiring his handiwork. "Now you can scream all you want, and no one will hear you."
He lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. With one hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, stretching her, filling her completely.
Y/n's muffled moan was music to his ears, her body clenching around him, welcoming him home.
Y/n's back arched as Carlos filled her, her fingers digging into the pillow in front of her. Despite the gag, her moans were still loud, her pleasure evident in the way her body moved, the way she rocked back against him.
"Shh, baby," Carlos chided, his hand coming down on her ass in a gentle spank. "Be quiet now."
He repeated the action, alternating cheeks, the sting of his palm mixing with the pleasure of his cock inside her. Y/n whimpered, her hips jerking with each impact, her moans muffled but no less intense.
Carlos grinned, loving the way she responded to him, the way she surrendered to his touch, his control. He continued his steady rhythm, pounding into her, his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust.
Carlos looked down, groaning at the sight of Y/n's pussy, so wet and stretched around him. "Fuck, you're taking me so well, baby," he grunted, his hips snapping forward, driving into her harder.
His hand found the buttplug, wiggling it, teasing her. He pushed it halfway out, then twisted it, pushing it back in, making Y/n's body jerk and shudder.
"That's it, take it all," he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock, take the plug, let me fill you up."
Y/n whimpered, her body trembling, torn between the pleasure and the slight discomfort of being so full. But Carlos didn't let up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, as he chased his own release.
Carlos cooed softly, his voice a stark contrast to the intensity of his thrusts. "So cute, baby," he murmured, reaching around to pinch Y/n's nipples, rolling them between his fingers. "You always look so pretty in pink."
He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust, burying himself deep inside her. Y/n's body jerked, a muffled moan escaping her as the buttplug shifted, pressing against her walls.
Carlos grinned, loving the way she looked, the way she felt, the way she responded to him. He could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside her.
"Gonna cum," he grunted, his hips slapping against her ass as he chased his pleasure. "Gonna fill you up, baby. Fuck, you feel so good."
Y/n's body was weak, her muscles trembling with the effort of holding herself up, of taking Carlos' relentless thrusts. But fuck, it felt so good, the pleasure consuming her, overwhelming her senses.
She moaned around the panties in her mouth, the sound muffled but no less desperate, no less needy. Her pussy clenched around Carlos' cock, her walls fluttering, trying to draw him deeper, hold him closer.
Carlos could feel her tightening around him, could hear the desperation in her moans. He knew she was close, could feel her body tensing, preparing for release.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his hand snaking around to rub her clit. "Cum for me. Let go, let me feel you."
Y/n's body seized, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She shook and trembled, her moans rising in pitch, her pussy clamping down on Carlos' cock like a vice.
Carlos groaned, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. "Fuck, baby," he grunted, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his cum. "You're taking it so well."
He collapsed over her, his chest pressing against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. They stayed like that for a moment, both panting, both trying to catch their breath.
Slowly, carefully, Carlos pulled out, watching as his cum dripped from Y/n's pussy. He reached for the buttplug, gently removing it, tossing it aside.
"You did so good, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. "I'm so proud of you."
Y/n turned in Carlos' arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I want more," she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.
Carlos grinned, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. "Anal?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
Y/n bit her lip, nodding shyly. "Yes," she breathed, her body already trembling with anticipation. "I want to try it, with you."
Carlos' grin widened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Are you sure, baby?" he asked, his tone gentle despite his eagerness. "We can take it slow, go at your pace."
Y/n nodded, her resolve strengthening. "I'm sure," she said, her voice steady. "I trust you, Carlos. I know you'll take care of me."
Carlos guided Y/n to sit on his lap, her back pressed against his chest, her legs spread wide. "I'll take the plug out," he murmured, his fingers trailing over her skin. "And I'll help you, every step of the way."
Y/n nodded, leaning back into him, trusting him completely. Carlos reached between her legs, his fingers finding the base of the buttplug. Slowly, gently, he pulled it out, the metal sliding free with a soft pop.
She moaned, her body clenching at the sudden emptiness. Carlos soothed her with soft kisses to her neck, his hands rubbing her thighs. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. "We'll go slow, just relax."
He reached for the lube, slicking his fingers generously. "Tell me if anything hurts, okay?" he said, his tone serious. "Your comfort is the most important thing."
Carlos circled Y/n's entrance with a slick finger, gently pressing in, breaching her slowly. Y/n whimpered, her body tensing at the unfamiliar intrusion.
"Breathe, baby," Carlos coached, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on her stomach. "Relax for me."
He worked his finger deeper, curling it slightly, searching for that special spot. When he found it, Y/n cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily.
"There," Carlos purred, rubbing the spot firmly. "Does that feel good?"
Y/n nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Yes," she gasped, her voice strained. "It's so intense, but so good- Fuck..."
Carlos added a second finger, stretching her slowly, preparing her for his cock. He scissored them, gently, carefully, watching her face for any signs of pain or discomfort.
Carlos continued his gentle ministrations, his fingers moving in and out of Y/n's tight heat, curling and stroking, finding all the sensitive spots that made her gasp and moan. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her lips, murmuring words of praise and encouragement.
"You're doing so well, baby," he whispered, his thumb brushing over her clit. "Taking me so perfectly. I'm so proud of you."
Y/n whimpered, her body trembling under his touch, under his words. She felt so full, so stretched, but it was a good ache, a pleasure she'd never known before.
Carlos could tell she was getting close, her walls fluttering around his fingers, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He doubled his efforts, his fingers pumping faster, harder, his thumb rubbing tight circles on her clit.
"Cum for me, mi amor," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire. "Let go, let me see you cum"
Y/n's body seized, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She whimpered and moaned, her hips bucking wildly, her inner walls clamping down on Carlos' fingers.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice high and breathy. "Oh god, Carlos, it's so much, it's too much-"
Her words dissolved into incoherent babble as the pleasure consumed her, her body shaking and trembling in Carlos' arms. He held her tight, his fingers still moving inside her, drawing out her climax, making it last as long as possible.
"That's it, baby," he crooned, his lips brushing her ear. "Ride it out, let it take you. You're doing so fucking well."
Carlos gently turned Y/n's face towards him, his eyes locked on hers. "Look down, baby," he instructed softly. "See? It's all the way in."
Y/n's gaze followed his, her eyes widening as she saw the slight bulge of Carlos' cock inside her, stretching her, filling her completely. "I feel so full," she whispered, her voice awestruck. "I can feel you everywhere."
Carlos grinned, his hands sliding up her sides, cupping her breasts. "That's because you're taking me so perfectly," he praised, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. "Every inch of you is wrapped around me, squeezing me, hugging me tight."
Y/n moaned, her hips shifting slightly, the movement sending sparks of pleasure racing through her. "It's so big," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. "But it feels so good, Carlos. So right."
Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Y/n riding him, her body moving with a wild abandon, her eyes filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust. Her hair was a mess, falling gracefully over one shoulder, her tits bouncing with each thrust, her mouth open, drool leaking from the corner.
She was a vision, a goddess, and she was all his.
Carlos gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements, helping her chase her pleasure. He watched as her body tensed, her walls clamping down around him, her moans rising in pitch.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Ride me, take what you need. Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, so perfect, so mine."
Y/n's body shook, her movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. She was close, so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
Her body tensed, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," she gasped, her voice strained, her eyes wild with pleasure.
Carlos could feel her tightening around him, her walls fluttering, clenching, trying to draw him deeper. "Keep going, baby," he urged, his hips snapping up to meet her downward thrusts. "Let go, cum for me. I've got you, I'm right here."
Y/n threw her head back, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her. Her body shook, her pussy clamping down on Carlos' cock like a vice, milking him, trying to pull him over the edge with her.
Carlos groaned, his own release building, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside her. "Fuck, baby," he grunted, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fill you up, fuck-"
As their orgasms crashed over them, Y/n's body spasmed, her movements becoming jerky, uncoordinated. She fell forward, her chest pressing against Carlos', her face nestling into the crook of his neck.
Carlos' arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his cock still buried deep inside her, throbbing with the aftershocks of his release. "I've got you, baby," he murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "I'm here, I'm right here."
They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies joined, their hearts beating in sync. Carlos pressed soft kisses to Y/n's hair, her forehead, her cheek, murmuring words of love and praise.
"You did so well, mi amor," he whispered, his voice low and tender. "You took me so perfectly, gave me everything. I love you so much, Y/n. So fucking much."
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planetaryupscaled · 7 months ago
Text
Three Times is Perfect
Male Reader x Haerin x Minji
Tags: 7k, first time, creampie, oral, threesome, tw
The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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“Are you ready for me? I hope you’re saving up for when I see you tomorrow 😘”
Minji attached a video. It was taken right before we were going to be separated for months. The video started on her face, scrunched up in pleasure, then scanned down her chest to her perky tits that were crowned by stiff nipples. The video kept going down, showing her taut, flat stomach and the perfectly smooth shaved pussy.
Further down, I could see her pussy lips welcoming my cock over and over again accompanied by a wet sound.
Behind the camera, I could hear myself saying in a low, gruff voice, “Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.”
“Just cum inside me,” Minji moaned. “Cum in me...”
The video shows me bottoming her out as far as possible, before emptying a week’s worth of cum into her pussy. Minji moaned off-camera as I pulled my cock from her grasping pussy, allowing the cum to spill out of her, it’s overflowing. I paused the video.
“Come on,” I typed back.
“That is not fair. You’re making it difficult for me to stick to our agreement.”
I must admit that quitting masturbation for weeks was more difficult than I expected. But the girlfriend was going to be out of town for that whole time, and I’d agreed to save it for her. Knowing the pent up passion will make my first time fucking her in weeks even better.
Our junior year of college ended three weeks ago, so our entire group of friends decided to take a vacation at Yejun’s family’s home in Jeju before starting our summer jobs, and Minji needed to visit family, so she was only coming for the last leg of the trip.
“Only 16 more hours,” Minji texted back. “I get in late tonight.”
“Wake me up when you do,” I replied.
“I’ve got a few ideas.” She attached another picture, this time of herself with two fingers buried inside her wet pussy.
“Too much teasing and it’s only 9 a.m. - I’m blocking you” I joked, before hearing a knock at the door.
“One sec.” I called out, before texting Minji: “Have to go, big day of hiking ahead.” I put my phone down, then yelled to the door “Come in!”
Haerin stepped through the door, looking alert and chipper in athletic attire. She took in the room, frowning.
“We’ve only been here one night and your room already look like garbage dump.”
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Kang Haerin. My childhood friend grew up two houses from me. We both went to the same college, which was several states away from our hometown, and we remained good friends. However, I can’t say no one asked about me and Haerin, since we’re really that close.
She was undeniably beautiful. I wonder how she can be her while I’m just… me? God really has a favorite.
Though many of our friends say that Haerin has a cat-like personality. That’s right, ‘a cat’ as in small domestic animals covered with fur. See, I'm not sure where they got that idea.
Watching her grew into a stunning, willowy woman with a shapely ass and breasts that were on the smaller side but perfectly fit her short frame. I knew she was beautiful, but our relationship was never particularly romantic, which suited us perfectly. We worked too well as friends to risk anything. Besides, she had been the one to introduce me to Minji, and Haerin was dating Yejun.
“You know how I feel about putting clothes in drawers while on vacation. Besides, you don’t have to share my room,” I said.
I stealthily tucked my erection into my waistband and stood up, brushing past her to grab one of the shirts from the ground to put it on.
“You’re horrible,” Haerin said with a laugh. “Anyway, I was just coming to rouse you for breakfast. Everyone else is done eating.”
“Should I pack a hat?”
“I don’t know. Yejun said there was a chance of rain. Can I check the weather from your phone?”
“Sure.”
Haerin picked up my phone, then let out a yelp and dropped it. She blushed furiously “Waaaa, Sorry, Sorry!”
“What?” I crossed to the bed and picked up my phone. Minji had texted one last picture, this one a closeup of us having sex. The caption read: “Don’t tire yourself out too much.” Haerin had picked up my phone only to get an eyeful of my cock stretching out her friend’s pussy.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize that would be up on my phone,” I said, embarrassed. “Minji’s been... sending me stuff in preparation for her arrival tonight.”
“Oh, yeah- no, I get it.” Haerin blushed even deeper, then paused. “I- I only looked for a second, so I barely saw anything.”
“No, of course.” I said.
She looked more flustered than I had seen her in a long time. Neither of us knew what to say.
“I- I’ll just check the weather on my phone,” Haerin said, rushing out of my room.
Given that she was dating Yejun, I assumed she had overcome her embarrassment and shame about sex, but she was still fairly innocent. However, she had just been surprised with a close-up photo of her two friends having sex, so who wouldn’t be embarrassed?
Despite the late start, a few cups of black coffee jolted me awake for the hike. Our other friends were experienced hikers who were glad to drag us along at their rapid pace, up trails with pine needles that covered treacherous rocks and roots. I spent the majority of the hike watching where I put my foot, expecting to twist my ankle at any second. When I did hike without my eyes glued to the ground, I found them drawn up perfect, toned, slender legs to Haerin’s ass in her tight athletic shorts. She was walking ahead of me, holding hands with Yejun.
I shake my head. Clearly, a combination of Minji’s teasing and the sexual frustration of the last few weeks had transformed me into a dog, slobbering over anything with the slightest female form.
We stopped for water at a clearing that looked out over the miles of trees below us. As I drank from my water bottle, Yejun pulled me aside.
“Can I ask you something? It’s about Haerin.”
“What’s up?” I thought Haerin had told him about the picture she’d seen of Minji and me and I was ready to apologize.
“Haerin and I have been dating for like eight months now, and...” he paused, a little awkward. “I know this is weird, since you guys have been friends forever, but I’m just gonna say it: I kinda thought we’d be doing more, sexually, by now. All we’ve done is dry humping, nothing below the clothes.”
Hearing that was surprising, but not completely unexpected. I don’t know how that made me feel. Part of me was bummed for my friends that they were missing out on all the great things sex had to offer, but another part of me, one I didn’t realize was there, felt a flash of... something. Not surprise, but maybe lust. I tried to kept my face straight as he went on.
“She’s said she’s waiting to actually have sex, which I totally understand, but do you think she’d want to do anything more than just make out and dry hump? Not just for me. I’d like to make her... finish, you know.”
“I haven’t talked with her about it, it’s not the sort of thing we discuss.” I said, truthfully.
“Do you know if she’s ever gone further than that with her previous boyfriends?” He asked.
“What previous boyfriends?”
Haerin had never dated anyone seriously before Yejun. Hell, the only reason I knew she was straight in high school was that she’d talk about having crushes on boys, but when I’d tell her to do something, she’d refuse.
“If I were you, I’d just let her lead the way. She does what she wants, but not before she’s ready.” I added.
On the way back down the mountain I watched Haerin with more curiosity. It certainly explained her reaction to the picture - she was totally inexperienced, so maybe it was more disgust at what she had seen. I felt bad for just leaving my phone open. I knew her well enough to know her reaction wouldn’t be one of judgment, but it had to make her uncomfortable. I resolved to apologize when I got the chance.
By the end of the hike, we were all soaked in sweat. Haerin pulled up her shirt to mop her flushed face, I could make out the tender curve of her breasts beneath her sports bra… I felt another pang somewhere in my stomach…surprisingly hard nipples. When she lowered the shirt she was looking right at me. I looked away, a little too late.
Damn, I thought, cursing the fact that Minji wouldn’t return for another eight or nine hours. I just needed to stop myself from getting horny for long enough not to do something stupid.
“Well, I’m gonna head to bed,” Yejun said, getting up. It was late at night and we’d put on a movie after the night of drinking had wound down. Just about everybody had drifted off from the movie and gone to sleep, save for me, Yejun, and Haerin, who’d seen it through to the end. We were all tired, dressed for bed.
“I’ll be right there,” Haerin said, as Yejun wandered off groggily. Then she turned to me, a small smile on her lips. “T minus two hours until Minji gets here. Are you excited?”
“Of course. I miss her a lot.”
“I mean, are you... excited?” Haerin said, gesturing down at my crotch.
“Hahaha,” I said sarcastically.
Haerin sat in a comfortable recliner across from me, her legs crossed under her. Without realizing it, my eyes drifted down her pajama-clad form and I saw with a start that she wasn’t wearing panties under her loose pajama shorts. I could make out a small dark bush and the tight cleft at the top of what seemed to be her beautiful innie pussy. Of course she wasn’t shaven, I thought, my cock beginning to thicken. She’d never even had sex.
“I guess she hasn’t been too far away, considering all those pictures,” Haerin said.
She shifted on the chair. I got an even better view of her small bush, and through it, her neat pussy lips.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. You shouldn’t have to see that.” I tore my eyes away from the faint glimpse of her pussy.
“No, I liked it,” Haerin said. “The wifi’s terrible out here, so my porn has been taking forever to load. Easier to just get it off from the two of you.”
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” I joked.
“Is there?”
I looked at her, trying to decide whether she was bluffing. We’d both had a lot to drink, but the several hours of the movie had sobered us up. She didn’t usually speak this brazenly.
“Yeah. Videos, too.”
Haerin’s face was now as flushed as mine, is she’s serious?
“Can I see it?”
“Should I airdrop them?”
Haerin stood up and walked across the room to mine. My heart started to beat fast. I couldn’t stand up, because I was so hard.
“Show me.”
I opened my phone, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I pulled up the picture she’d seen, the close-up of Minji’s pussy with my bare cock drilling into it.
“Really?” I asked.
Haerin nodded. She leaned down, and I caught the soft curve of her small breast down her sleep shirt. I hesitated, then thought, Fuck it. I turned the phone to her.
“I’ve already seen this one,” she whispered, sending a shiver up my spine. This was bad. I was too horny. I should lock my phone and get out of here. I swiped to the next one -- the video of me and Minji, paused with the cum trickling out of her pussy, her tits and face in the shot.
“Where are you?”
I rewound the video. The only sound in the room was the slick squishing noise of me and Minji fucking, then her moaning. Haerin’s mouth was half-open as she watched.
“Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.” At that, I quickly paused the video, returning to my senses. This was too much. Too personal. Minji wouldn’t want me showing intimate videos of us to one of our best friends. And did I really want Haerin to see my dick? I was more drunk than I thought. And so was she, if she allowed it.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t show you that.”
“No, it’s okay,” Haerin muttered. “It’s… hot. I have a thing for small dicks.”
I looked up at her. She was grinning. We both burst into laughter.
“Oh, you…” I said, leaping up to grab her. She shrieked and tried to make an escape, but I grabbed her and tackled her, tickling her, onto the couch. We were both laughing. Only when I paused for breath did I realize what a bad idea that had been. I was still completely hard, and was only wearing my boxers.
From beneath me, Haerin tickled me back, and I grabbed her arms, trying to keep her from tickling me.
The rest of it happened fast. I was on top of her, hard, and somewhere in the maneuvering, my cock must have slipped out of the hole in my boxers. I knew that reaching down to fix the situation would immediately make it clear to her what had happened, so I tried to keep her pinned, unable to look down. That was my undoing -- Haerin spread her legs, trying to get them around me for some reason.
All of a sudden, as she did, I felt my cock press up through the leg of her baggy shorts, against her mound. She gasped in surprise, moving her lower body back, but all that did was make my cock slip down, nestling into the hot wetness between her pussy lips. It happened so fast I didn’t even think about the fact that she was dripping wet.
“Is that your…” Haerin started to ask, trying to reposition herself.
Then I felt my cockhead slipped inside her opening. We both froze. I looked down. Her pussy lips were stretched around my cock. I didn’t even have time to think about how amazing her pussy looked -- how long I’d wondered what it would look like, what she’d feel like. Though I was only a few inches into her, it was almost too much for me.
“Y- You’re... inside me.” Her voice quavered.
It happened in such slow motion that the freeze-frame image of Haerin below me, looking down in open-mouth surprise at her shorts pulled to the side, her wet pussy clenching my bare cock is imprinted on my mind, though the moment only lasted a second or two.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to...”
“No… I- I wasn’t wearing panties, it’s my...” She trailed off, her breath ragged.
The moment felt like a dream. Neither of us was moving to pull apart. My cock throbbed inside her, and she gasped as I felt her pussy clench. She was getting wetter, somehow. Involuntarily, I pushed an inch further into her, my cock moving on its own to bury itself as deep into her scalding hot pussy as it could.
“Wait…” she said, her voice soft and strained.
“Don’t-” Then she was cut off by a gasp. Her body shuddered, and her legs which still around my back, pushed me deeper into her. I bottomed her out, God her pussy is sooo tight.
Haerin was small, but she could take my whole length buried snugly inside her. Then she came, hard, trying to stifle her own moans while her pussy clenched around my cock.
“Anhh- fuck I’m…cumming...” Haerin whimpered.
Her body jerked, and she wrapped her arms around mine, pushing our bodies together. Her pussy felt too tight. I wasn’t going to last, especially after three weeks of no sex or masturbation. I was bare inside of her, I couldn’t cum in her. With the last ounce of my willpower, I tried to pull out.
“Haerin, I’m gonna…”
I only made it halfway. Haerin, who was still shuddering in orgasm, firmly pulled me back into her. That feeling of sliding my entire length back into her tight pussy was the end of it. I felt my cock swelling up, before I came hard, deep inside her.
As my cock jerked, shooting cum against the back walls of her pussy, her eyes snapped open. She could feel my warmth splashing into her.
“No, no, I’m not…oohhh…”
She writhed in orgasm again, while I emptied weeks’ worth of cum into her. Any thought of trying to pull out was forgotten. All I wanted to do was bury into her and fill her up. I came and came. Each jerk of my cock within her drew another small moan from her. Her pussy squeezed my cock tighter than any I had ever experienced.
“Oh my god....” she moaned softly.
I slumped down on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck. We stayed like that for a while, until the last jerks of my cock and the last of her small shudders subsided, indicating that we’d ridden out our climaxes.
I lifted my head to look at her. She was beautiful- wide brown eyes, cheeks flushed, her hair a mess on her sweaty forehead. Through her white sleep shirt, I could see the outlines of her areolae and the tiny tents of her nipples. We looked at each other for quite a while, faces close together, then she shook her head in wonder.
“I can’t believe that just happened.”
Haerin looked down on our connection, where my cock was still buried inside her. Her pussy was overflowing with our mixed love juice, dripping and creaming around my cock.
“You cum inside me…” she said, quietly.
“I- I’m so sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to-”
“No, I stopped you from pulling out. I... I’ve never cum that hard before. It was… really good, I didn’t want it to end.”
“Me neither,” I said, and she let out a small laugh. As she did, her pussy squeezed me, milking another drop of cum from me.
I breathed out and lifted myself up, pulling my cock out of Haerin with a soft squishing noise. My cum dripped out from between her legs, and she reached down to catch it with her fingers. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you always... cum this much? How does Minji take it all?”
The mere mention of Minji twisted my insides. “Oh, god…”
“Don’t feel bad. It was an accident.” Haerin was still on her back, legs spread, looking up at me, making no effort whatsoever to conceal her small, hairy, freshly fucked pussy. It was a beautiful sight.
“Yeah, An accident.” I said.
“No need to explain to either Minji or Yejun why you took your best friend’s virginity and pumped her pussy full of cum, especially when it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Oh fuck- Haerin, I…” In the rush of sensations, I had completely forgotten that I had taken her virginity.
She finally stood, barely reaching my collarbone. I couldn’t read her expression. Then she just pulled off her shirt, revealing her beautiful round, petite breasts that sat high on her chest, with brown nipples that looked perfect on her small tits. She slid her shorts down, revealing her pussy in all its glory. A line of cum is dripping down her legs.
“I’m going to need to shower.” She looked dead serious.
I couldn’t tell if she was angry, confused, sad, or… I was horrified to think I’d just ruined one of my longest friendships.
“Haerin, I…”
“Come join me.”
She took a step toward me and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. In my dazed state, I hadn’t tucked my cock back into my boxers, and it was pressing into her mound. I was still wet from our combined juices. Haerin looked up at me. Tentatively as if we hadn’t just fucked, I leaned in to kiss her. Our lips met in a spark of passion, we kissed with an open mouth as our tongues probing hungrily for each other, And as if it had been forever. Finally, we broke apart.
“Losing virginity to your best friend, that was the best way to lose my virginity I could have ever asked for.”
Haerin took my hand and led us to the bathroom before locking the door behind us.
“Never know when Yejun will be back,” she said softly.
Haerin turned on the shower. Undressing myself as I watched her outline in the mirror, her incredible ass, tight and perfect for her frame, and that pristine lips between her legs. She shivered after splashing water on her breasts to test their warmth.
“This place takes forever to turn on the hot water,” Haerin said.
I was zooning out, naked, half-hard, staring at her. “What?”
“Oh- just trying to figure out where we’re going from here.” I added.
“Don’t overthinking it. We will always love each other. One accident won’t change that. Besides, there’s something poetic about losing your virginity to the same person you had your first kiss with. Someone you can really trust.”
As she spoke, she stood close to me in this small bathroom. It was surreal having this conversation with your best friend, not to mention that both of us naked, having just fucked, cum still dripping out of her pussy. I started to get hard again, cursing myself for being this horny.
“Wow,” she said, looking down at my crotch.
“Already? You are insatiable.”
“I’ve just been wondering how you look naked, and here you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
Haerin grabbed my cock with her slender hand.
“Why do you think I wanted to shower with you?”
She got down on her knees, looking up at me with her beautiful eyes and her small mouth half-open. Slowly but surely, she reached out her tongue to lick my tip. A strand of our mixed juice trailed from her tongue.
“Haerin…”
“I’ve never given a blowjob, either,” she said thoughtfully, working her hands up and down my shaft. She circled the tip with her tongue.
“I assumed it would happen before I had sex. I definitely didn’t think I’d be licking my own cum off a cock that had just finished inside me,” she said.
She parted her lips and enveloped my cock in the warm wetness of her mouth. She bobbed up and down on my shaft several times, cleaning her pussy juices and mine off with her tongue. Then she pulled back, looking up at me while continued to jerk my cock.
“I can’t tell if this is you or me, but wow, we taste really good together.”
Before I could answer, she closed her lips around me again, gradually finding a rhythm as she sucked me. I stroked her hair, looking down at the beautiful sight before me, Haerin’s hair is a mess, sucking her best friend cock, her nipples protruded proudly from her pert breast. Her mouth felt almost as amazing as her pussy, and I soon found myself swelling with anticipation. She clearly felt it too as she took me out of her mouth and asked…
“Would you rather cum in my mouth or in my pussy?”
It was strange to hear her, the innocent, sweet, nerdy Haerin, talk like this.
“I didn’t realize you liked talking dirty.”
“You know me,” she said, smiling. “I’m a detail-oriented person.” She continued on sucking, demonstrating a surprising skill despite the fact that it’s her first time giving a blowjob.
She looked up at me and repeated her question.
“So, in my mouth or in my pussy?”
“Honestly I want to do both, but you know me, always indecisive… and God… it’s hard to think with your mouth is on me.”
Haerin stood up as the bathroom started to steam up.
“Think the water’s warm enough?” She asked, grinning.
She pulled me into the shower and our bodies intertwined under the water. I grabbed and kissed her hungrily, working my hands down her breasts, to her side, to her tight ass, pulling her close to me and pressing my cock against her. She lifted her leg onto the side of the bathtub, spreading herself to me. I got down on my knees and pressed my lips against her slit. She moaned in pleasure, but she turned my head, forcing me to look up at her.
“You don’t have to. I… I haven’t shaved.”
“I don’t care about that. Besides, Minji isn’t either.”
“Yeah,” Haerin said, inhaling as I planted a kiss on her nether lips. “I’ve seen the evidence…anhhh” Small moan escapes her lips.
“I want to taste you…”
That was the last word I said before I sank my tongue into her folds, working my way up to her clit and then back down, slowly. I slid a finger into her, pumping slowly in and out as I sucked and licked her clit. I’ve always loved the taste of pussy, and Haerin’s was no exception. As I finger-fucked her, I switched the up and down motion with my tongue to a circular motion, right on her clit.
“Enhhh god, please… just like that,” she whimpered.
“You’re gonna make me cum again... ahhh”
I kept up exactly like that, furiously tonguing her clit and driving my finger in and out of her. Her breath became heavier, and she pushed herself towards me, grinding hard against my mouth. I savored the taste of her tangy opening as she approached her second orgasm of the day.
Finally, with a great heaving sigh and a jerk of her body, she came. While her first orgasms had been hard and all-consuming, but relatively short, this one lasted longer, crashing like a slow wave. I held my mouth to her pussy and continued what I was doing until she stopped thrashing. She lifted me up and kissed me passionately.
“So, what do I taste like?” She asked smilingly.
“Hmm, you taste really good Haerin”
“Have you ever tried lemon zest?” I added.
“Mmm”
“You taste just like that,” I said, grinning.
She stood there for a moment, thinking about what I had just said, then she slapped my hand playfully, and we both burst out laughing.
I kissed her again, silencing her protest. She felt my cock nuzzled at her opening. She reached down and pump it up and down, stroking it up and down in a slow motion, we broke our embrace and she looked up at me. Water cascading down her breasts and dripping off her nipples.
“You didn’t cum in my mouth, and it seems that your dick made the choice for you. In my pussy it is.”
“Haerin. Once is an accident, twice is a choice,”
“Just for tonight, kay? I need you in me.” She said softly.
I slowly began to push in through her tight pussy lips, a thought crossed my mind and I looked at her.
“You’re not on birth control, are you?” She shook her head, kissing me again and spread her legs wider so I could go deeper into her. And deeper it went, I began to push deeper, faster, and harder over and over again as her pussy stretching to accommodate its intruder.
“I could have sworn you got bigger just now,” she whispered, a small moan escapes her lips with every thrust.
“Maybe I like cumming inside you without protection.”
“Ehm yeah? maybe I like that, too… Ahh”
I looked down at our connection, how her perfect lips split open by my grith. She was so unbelievably silky and wet, the perfect pussy that I would ravage forever if I had the chance. And I was bare inside her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her pussy or her petite breasts, barely moving as I bottomed out in her again and again.
“Can I ask you something?” she panted between strokes.
“What?”
“Who... who feels better? Who do you like fucking more? Me or Minji?”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “Look who I’m inside of right now.”
Talking about Minji while fucking Haerin emphasized the forbidden feeling of it all. I could feel another orgasm rushing on, so I closed my eyes and tried to delay it.
“But if you had to say. And you can be honest.” She said.
“When I fuck Minji,” I said, slowing down my frantic thrusting.
“It’s amazing. She has the most incredible body, experienced, and knows exactly what to do to get me to cum. Sometimes I just enjoy burying myself in her pussy and feeling all of her around me”
“God, Haerin, you are so tight…” I stopped, holding my throbbing cock as far into her as it would go. Her eyes were mostly closed, savoring the feeling.
“Sometimes when I finish in her, she’ll reach down and taste me. Which just gets me going again. I have filled her up every different way. Just about every time you’ve seen her, she’s been full of me.” Haerin moaned at this, clenching me inside her.
“But you… it’s a whole different thing, fuck…” I growled.
I started to build up the pace, gripping her tighter as I pound her faster. Haerin wanted to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
We froze.
“Haerin? Are you in there?”
It was Yejun. He sounded tired. Haerin looked at me, unsure what to do.
“Nghh…yeah,” she called out. “I’m almost done.”
“Why are you showering this late?”
I could hear the wet squelch of her pussy even over the rushing water of the shower as I slid my cock in and out of her. She struggled to maintain her voice even as she responded.
“I- I was feeling… a little dirty…mmhh”
“Are you okay babe?” Yejun asked.
“Hmm… yeah… I- I just need a moment- nghh…”
I couldn’t hold out much longer. I whispered in her ear as I thrust into her “I’m going to cum.”
“Don’t cum too much,” Haerin warned in a low voice, pausing to gasp as I bottomed out in her. “You’re still going to need some for Minji tonight.”
“I’d rather use it all up in you.”
“Alright, I’m going to sleep,” Yejun said from outside.
He had no idea I was fucking his girlfriend for the second time ever, readying to burst my cum into her unprotected pussy, again. Haerin maintained eye contact with me as I sank deeper into her.
“I’ll come soon,” Haerin shouted to him, in a voice that I was sure sounded like she was being fucked. I looked down at her naked body, taking in the sight of her pink ravaged pussy and her firm tits, my thrusts increasing in intensity.
“Haerin…” That was all I could groan out before I pulled her tightly as I buried my cock as deep as it could go into her and burst my second load, painting her wall white as far as it could reach. I’m sure her womb is full of those small tadpoles by now.
Last time had been incredible for its novelty, but it had all happened so fast that I didn’t take it all in. This time, I looked down at her, eyes wide open in pleasure as she felt the warm of cum quickly filling her up. I pulled out halfway and pushed in again, watching, satisfied, as a glob of cum was pushed out around my cock, painting her lips white.
Haerin held me hard, flinching as she came down from her orgasm, while I fucked my last drops of cum into her. I was as far up her pussy as I could go and there was nothing between us. I looked down at her cum-filled pussy split open as I pulled out. Cum poured out of her and onto the floor of the shower.
She inserted two fingers into herself and pulled them out, covered in cum. She brought her fingers to her mouth and let me watch as she licked them clean.
“Better than Minji?” She asked with a low voice. In response, I leaned in to kiss her, our two tastes mingling as our lips met.
We toweled off quickly and went our separate ways after one last kiss. The last thing I thought before falling asleep was “I hope we did a good enough job washing each other off and -- out of ourselves.
I woke up the next morning, groggily taking in my surroundings, it was sunny in my room. Minji’s bag was on the desk. I realized Minji must have gotten in and not woke me up, or worse, she’d tried to wake me up and I’d been too tired. Then I felt a warm, wet mouth wrap around my cock, which was rapidly hardening. I Recognize Minji’s incredible lips as she looked up at me, smiling around my cock.
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“Good morning!” She was topless, her breasts hanging down enticingly.
“I’m so sorry, I was really sleepy last night” I said.
Minji ran her tongue up the length of my cock, slowly and thoughtfully. “You know you talk in your sleep, right?”
“What?” I asked.
“Well, usually you don’t, but you must have been very tired.” She punctuated her sentences with slow licks on my cock. “See, when I came in and got naked and tried to wake you up, you said the darnedest thing.”
Minji buried my cock in her mouth, deepthroating me until her nose was pressed against my pubic bone before pulling back out, lines of spit connecting her mouth to my shaft. I looked down at her, puzzled.
“Right around the time I got you into my mouth, you looked at me and said, A third time in one night.” As she said that, my stomach clenched
She climbed up the bed, angling my cock in between her folds. “I didn’t know what that meant, but then you said, If we keep this up, Haerin, I’ll have no cum left for Minji.” She sat down on my still-wet cock, letting me bury myself into her velvety pussy.
“At first, I thought it might just be a wet dream. But then I tasted your cock and wouldn’t you know it, I could swear you tasted... different.” She lifted off of me, angling my cock into her for maximum tightness, then slowly inched back down. My head was filled with competing emotions; I was turned on, guilty, horrified, and excited all at once.
“Minji…”
“Did you fuck Haerin?”
I didn’t know what to do or say, besides… “I’m sorry...”
She sped up on top of me, working my cock inside her as only she knew how. “I thought she was a virgin.”
“She... she was. The first time was an accident,” I regretted and cursed myself. After these words left my mouth. Why the hell did I have to say ‘the first time?’
“The first time was an accident huh...and the second?”
“It was- less of an accident…” This was crazy. What was going one? She didn’t seem to be mad, asking the questions in a matter-of-fact tone, as if we were having a simple conversation while I was fucking her.
“I’m guessing you didn’t wear a condom based on the taste she left on you.” I shook my head slowly. “Lucky her. She loses her virginity by having raw sex with her best friend. Did you cum inside her?”
I nodded. My cock throbbed inside Minji, edging closer to orgasm. We both felt it. She kept her pace, sliding her perfect pussy up and down my cock.
“She got three weeks’ worth of your cum. Was her pussy... overflowing?” she asked, again.
All I could do was nod, getting closer to my own orgasm, what the hell with all these questions anyway?
“Are you thinking about it right now? Picturing how she looked?”
“It’s- hard not to, when you asking about it… nghh fuck Minji”
“Are you gonna cum in me while thinking about Haerin?
In response, I pushed all the way into Minji and emptied the cum I had left up her pulsing canal. She moaned louder, grinding her clit hard against mine, and she cummed too. I held Minji close as my cock emptying itself inside her.
I noticed a movement near the door.
Haerin stood in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the spot where Minji and I were joined: Minji on top in a cowgirl position, legs spread, my cock splitting her open with her ass facing the door. Haerin could see our connection where I was bottoming out deep insider her friend.
Minji saw where I was looking and turned around to see Haerin. Haerin flushed and backed away from the doorway, but Minji called out to her, “You can come in.” After a brief moment, Haerin’s head reappeared, beet-red.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Mean to what?” Minji cut her off.
I was still hard inside Minji and I could feel drops of our cum running down creaming my shaft. Haerin tried hard not to look at it, but failed, miserably.
“You didn’t mean to watch, or you didn’t mean to fuck my boyfriend and take all his cum like a little slut?”
Haerin said nothing, mortified. I didn’t know what to say, either. Minji beckoned Haerin over to the bed, and she came hesitantly. She was wearing the same sleep shirt as last night, and her stiff nipples were clearly visible through it, maybe aroused by this all.
“Did you like watching us?” Minji asked and Haerin just nodded.
“Say it.”
“I liked watching,” Haerin said timidly.
“You liked watching what?”
Haerin swallowed nervously. “All of it. I liked... watching you... suck him off. I liked watching your pussy being pounded by him. I liked- watching… his cumming inside you.”
I was surprised to hear Haerin say that. The submissive side of her had taken over.
“Come here, you little slut.” Minji commanded.
Haerin got onto the bed, following her order. “Now I want you to taste our connection.” Haerin looked confused, so Minji clarified “Taste the place where he’s entering me.”
I was still rock-hard between Minji's lips. Haerin slid between my legs, looking directly at Minji's supple, round ass cheeks and her trimmed pussy around my cock. She tentatively reach oud her tongue to the underside of my cock. Slowly, she ran it up my shaft, gathering cum and Minji's cream on her tongue before reaching Minji's stretched pussy lips. She licked them up and around my cock, allowing me to feel her tongue on every pass. Minji breathed out slowly, clearly enjoying it.
“Now I want you to take him out of me and clean him off,” Minji said.
Haerin slowly reached out to grab my cock, which was slick with Minji's juices and my cum, and withdrew it from Minji with a soft squish. More of cum dripped on my cock. Haerin opened her mouth and leaned down take me in her mouth.
“Don’t swallow,” Minji said. “Keep it in your mouth.”
Haerin bobbed her head up and down, deliberately licking and sucking the wetness off my cock. Directly in front of her nose was Minji’s opening with cum dripping out slowly.
“Now put your mouth on my pussy and put it back in me.”
Haerin couldn’t reply, her mouth full, she looked hesitant. Minji rolled over, spreading her legs in front of Haerin.
“Haven’t you gotten enough of it? Put his cum back inside me.”
I was certain Haerin wouldn’t do it. Fucking me was one thing, eating Minji’s pussy was another. Would this new, submissive Haerin go for it? Still, she was holding the excess cum in her mouth, not swallowing it. She looked caught.
Minji absentmindedly rubbed her clit while waiting. Then, to my surprise, Haerin darted her mouth toward Minji's pussy, pressing her lips against it and reaching out her tongue to let the cum in her mouth dribble back into Minji's waiting hole. Minji moaned in pleasure.
“Keep going... make sure you get it all in...”
Haerin used her tongue to push the cum that had dribbled out of Minji’s pussy back in. She began to fuck Minji with her tongue, in and out of her sopping hole, tasting my cum every time she reached deeper into Minji. Minji closed her eyes, rubbing her nipples with one hand and using the other to press Haerin’s face into her womanhood.
I was rock hard again. Haerin was eating the cum out of Minji’s pussy, or, I guess, putting it back in. Was this a dream?
Minji writhed on the bed as Haerin continued lapping at her, bringing her tongue from the bottom of her pussy, where the cum had pooled, to the top, hungrily licking her clit. Minji gasped, her body rocked with waves of orgasm, and still Haerin kept going. I had never seen Minji orgasm from this angle, normally I was part of the process, and it was hot to see her body constrict in pleasure, tits bouncing, eyes screwed shut. It was even hotter watching Haerin eat her out.
Finally, Minji pulled Haerin's face away from her, which was wet with spit and our mixed juices. Both girls were panting.
“Have you ever gone down on a girl before?” Minji asked. Haerin shook her head, wiping off her mouth. She looked dazed but horny. “You’re good at it.”
Minji looked over at me, at my cock, which was standing upright. “And after all that, he’s still ready.”
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” was all I could manage to say.
Minji sat up and pushed Haerin down onto the bed, on her back. Under the sleep shirt, Haerin was wearing a pair of grey panties that were fully soaked through. Minji pulled the panties down, revealing Haerin’s wet, drenched pussy. As Haerin spread her legs, I watched her pussy lips come unglued from each other, revealing pink folds inside.
Minji reached down, into her own pussy, scooping my cum onto her fingers. She reached over and sank those fingers into Haerin’s. She moaned, writhing on the bed.
“You don’t need the extra lubrication,” Minji said, reaching down to spread her wetness over my cock. “But it��ll get you started.”
Minji pulled my cock to Haerin’s opening. I adjusted myself on the bed, getting up so I was supporting myself over Haerin. Minji slowly rubbed my tip up and down Haerin’s sopping lips, before putting me between them. Haerin cooed in pleasure.
“Show me how you fucked her.”
As I sank into Haerin for the third time, I looked over at Minji. My girlfriend was watching with rapt attention as I bottomed out in Haerin’s pussy. Then I looked at Haerin, who stared up at me with wide eyes. My longtime best friend, the girl I adored, was open beneath me.
“Fill me up again,” Haerin whispered.
“Once is an accident, twice is a choice, but three times?” I asked.
“Three times is perfect.”
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hederasgarden · 6 months ago
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Like Oil and Water
Summary: Your office power struggle with Scott comes to a head. Paring: Scott (Twisters) x F!Scientist!Reader Word Count: 2.1K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Enemies to lovers trope, PIV sex, fingering, and dirty talk. Slight angst.  A/N: The story is based on this ask I received. I know there are like…five Scott fans out there besides me so I hope y’all like this. I have no explanation for this fic except I’m horny for Scott. I had an alternative ending to this story but whoops feelings crept in. Thank you to @ryebecca, @whatblogisthis216 and @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over. The snazzy summary is courtesy of @writercole.
Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 
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David Corenswet Characters Masterlist
“I’m never picking up your coffee order again,” Javi swears, handing the Starbucks cup to you. “Whatever happened to coffee with a little bit of cream?”
“Capitalism,” you reply, taking a sip. It wasn’t exactly how you liked it, missing that deep caramel flavor, but you appreciate Javi’s effort. “Thanks again.”
He nods, drinking from his cup as you make your way down to the labs, discussing the results from the latest test. 
“We will need to adjust the relays, but other than that, I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “I’ll let the techs know we need those changes made this week.”
“Sounds good. I gotta make a quick call, but I’ll join you after,” Javi promises, disappearing into his office while you make your way down the hall.
You hear the low timber of Scott's voice before you spot him in conversation with one of the female techs. You loathe to admit it but he looks good, his tanned forearms on display with the sleeves of his white company shirt rolled up. The baseball cap tucked into his back pocket and dusty boots let you know he probably came straight from the field. 
"We need to fix the relays. They failed the test. Again. That's unacceptable," he begins, gearing up for another one of his infamous lectures. "Back when I was at MIT, this type of calibration was the first thing we were taught."
Scott may have been one of the smartest guys on Javi’s team but he was also a smug asshole. From the moment you met him, he irritated you, reminding you of every man who thought he was smarter and better than you just because of his gender. Everyone expected engineers to be difficult to work with, but Scott took it to another level. Who could blame you for taking him down a peg or two when you had the chance?
"So you went to MIT. Big whoop," you begin, delighted to see Scott tense up at the sound of your voice. When he turns to face you, the tech is quick to scurry away. "Call me when you have a PhD from a real school, like Caltech, Scotty."
He hates it when you call him that but today it's your jab about MIT that strikes a nerve. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he exhales harshly. God, that angry look in his eye really did something for you. Too bad his looks couldn’t make up for how much of a dick he could be. 
Scott practically spits your first name out, stepping into your space to loom over you. His broad shoulders and muscular build block your view of the lab. You tilt your head to look at him, fighting the urge to smile. "You really should address me as ‘doctor,’" you calmly remind him, tapping your name badge. 
You arch a brow, waiting for his response but his mouth snaps shut, attention moving to something behind you. 
It’s Javi.
"Come on guys," he sighs. "Play nice."
You glance over your shoulder, smiling sweetly. "I'm always nice.”
"Why are you even in the labs today?" Scott questions, glancing down at your heels. 
You smooth a hand down your dress and smile. "I'm the Vice President of R&D for Storm Par. These are my labs. I belong here.”
"Dressed like that?" He scoffs. 
"What, you don't like it?" You ask, turning in a slow circle. 
"We had a meeting with some new investors," Javi supplies, trying to cut off the start of another fight between the two of you. 
Scott turns away and you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. He still hasn’t forgiven you for talking Javi out of letting his uncle invest in the company. It would have been easy money but you never liked the business plan. It was best to stick with government grants and investors without any personal connections. 
Javi touches your arm. “Come on, we gotta finish that grant.”
You hum in agreement, trailing behind him to the doorway. Pausing, you glance back and catch Scott watching you, his lips pressed into a thin line. With a grin, you wiggle your fingers at him, amused to see the furrow in his brow deepen even further.
The rest of your day is blessedly Scott-free and you spend your time buried in meetings and wading through needlessly complicated grant submissions. Javi employed some of the smartest people you’ve ever had the privilege of working with but they were terrible when it came to making the science digestible to investors. You sigh, rubbing your temples. It was going to be a long night.
You work uninterrupted, buried in the complexities of the grant, until Scott storms into your office, slamming the door behind him. “Did you tell the techs they could go home early?” he demands.
“Please, do come in,” you deadpan, setting aside the papers you’re holding.
“Did you send them home?” He repeats, rounding your desk and invading your personal space. At his side, his hands are clenched into fists, the veins in his neck standing out.
“I did.” You rise to your full height but even in heels, he dwarfs you. 
“That wasn’t your call.”
“You do remember my job title, right?”
“I’m VP of Operations,” he reminds you. “I say when they go home, especially when we’re on a deadline.”
“They report to me, and you’ve had them working long hours,” you fire back.
He shakes his head, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, as he gives you an unimpressed look. “You’re too soft on them. I told Javi you weren’t right for this job. This isn’t academia. We work hard here.” 
You bristle at his words, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the soft skin of your palm. He has no idea what it took for you to get here, the challenges you faced, or the men like him you had to prove yourself to.
“Go fuck yourself, Scott.” 
You glare up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. You wait, ready for whatever asshole comment is sure to come but he just stares at you. Then, to your surprise, his gaze drops to your mouth. You freeze, electricity zipping up your spine when you realize you’re close enough for your chest to brush his as you exhale. Looking back, you won't remember the impulse that led you to tilt your head and press your lips to his, only that you did.
The kiss only lasts a second before you pull away, heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, neither of you moves, but then suddenly he surges forward, his large hand grasping the side of your face. His lips crash into yours roughly. A hand at your hip urges you back until you bump your desk but he doesn’t stop until he’s practically dragged you on top of it. He presses in close, eating up what little space remains. You groan, grasping at his shirt as you push your hips into his. 
“Fuck,” he pants, resting his forehead against yours as his warm breath fans across your face. For one terrible second, you think he might stop or say something stupid to ruin the moment but then he’s kissing you again. He forces a hand between your bodies and roughly pulls your underwear aside so his fingers can drag through your folds. You’d be shocked by how fast it’s all happening but any higher thought fizzles out once his thumb circles your clit and his tongue breaks the seam of your lips to taste you. 
You’re breathless when he pulls away, back arching in response to his talented fingers. Through your lashes you see him smirk down at you. “No smart comebacks now?” He questions.
Before you can retort he adds a second finger. You moan, rolling your hips to seek more of him. “Knew you’d be fucking greedy,” he whispers.
He watches you fuck yourself on his hand with a hungry glint in his eyes until your pace slows. He glanced at your face. You rise up on your elbows, brow raised. “Am I going to do all the work here?” 
“Shut up,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers.
A witty comeback is on the tip of your tongue but it dies when Scott brings his fingers to his mouth. He stares down at you while he sucks them clean, his Adam's apple bobbing. Your stomach clenches hard at the sight. 
“That’s better,” he comments, unbuckling his belt. “Nice and quiet.” 
He takes a condom from his wallet and rolls it on his thick length. If there was ever a time to stop, it’s now. You look at Scott, his dark gaze swimming with desire and push the thought away, rising up to kiss him. The blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance and you lift your hips. You relish the way he looks, dark hair curling over his sweaty forehead and his body straining for you. Knowing you’ve done this to him sends a rush of want through you. 
Scott pushes inside slowly, hissing as your wet heat envelopes him until he’s halfway in and then he snaps his hips forward unexpectedly. Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush. He falls forward and the weight of him is electrifying. You’d be embarrassed at the desperate little sounds his mouth swallows up if he didn’t feel so damn good. 
He fucks with an intense kind of precision you’ve seen him bring to his work, reaching deep inside you to hit all the right places. You bury your fingers in his dark hair and pull, eliciting a needy moan from the irritatingly talented man above you. 
“You gonna come for me?” He asks, breathless. 
A desperate little, please, slips past your lips without your permission, spurring him on. He hooks a hand under your knee and forces your leg into your chest as he keeps up his frantic pace. The new angle takes him even deeper and pleasure ripples through your stomach. He feels unbelievably good and you practically sob when he pulls back and rises to his full height, afraid he’s going to stop. But he doesn’t, grasping your hips with both hands and forcing you to meet his thrusts. 
You’re tantalizing close and, without thinking, you reach down to help yourself along but Scott is quick to slap your hand away, replacing it with his own. 
“That’s mine,” he growls, the rough pad of his thumb catching on the sensitive skin. He watches with rapt attention as his cock and fingers work in tandem to drive you over the edge. You come with his name on your lips. 
“Fuck, just like that,” he gasps. 
Before you can recover your breath, he leans down and kisses you, his weight pressing you into the desk as his hips move relentlessly. Then he shoves himself deep inside and stills, groaning. Your ears ring and your body buzzes with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. The two of you stay like that, intertwined and panting until, finally, Scott moves. 
Cool air rushes between your bodies and you stare up at him. You can see him thinking in real time, his clever gaze searching your face as he continues to process what happened. What could either of you possibly say after this? Nothing good you realize. 
“Don’t,” you whisper, finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t ruin it.” 
Scott closes his eyes and swallows hard. Then he's moving, slipping out of you with a grunt. He turns away from you, redressing. The clink of his belt buckle is loud in the quiet office. Pressing your fingers to your swollen lips, you take a moment to let yourself feel everything before pushing it aside and standing on unsteady legs.
You fix your appearance the best you can and busy yourself with shuffling the mess of papers strewn everywhere. It might be cowardly, but you keep your gaze fixed on your desk when you hear the door creak open. You wait, the minutes dragging by until you know it’s safe to look up, only to find Scott still there.
He lingers in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you. 
Then you blink and he’s gone. 
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theonottsbxtch · 24 days ago
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FOREVER AND ALWAYS | MV1
an: military au go reeeee, my friend is currently talking to a marine so it makes this funnier, anyway this is a request and be prepared for how much im about to post, im posting all my wips so i can start a new
wc: 3.8k
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THE LAST MORNING MAX spent in town was unseasonably warm for late September, but she still wore his old hoodie over her dress. It swallowed her, the cuffs rolled up clumsily so her fingers could peek through. Max liked seeing her in it; she made it look softer than it ever felt to him. They sat on the hood of his truck by the edge of the lake, the same spot they always went to when something big needed to be said.
“You’ll write, right?” she asked, her voice steadier than the fingers twisting the hem of his sleeve.
Max didn’t answer right away. He hated promises. He hated making them and breaking them even more. But he wasn’t going to break this one. “Every day,” he said, his voice a little rough. “I mean it, okay? You’ll be sick of me by Christmas.”
“I could never,” she said, and the words felt too small for how much she meant them.
The sun caught in her hair, and Max felt the ache of leaving settle deeper in his chest. He should’ve been relieved—one last night in this town, in that house—but all he could think about was how hard it was going to be to drive away from her in the morning.
“I’ll write back every time,” she promised, her eyes locked on his like she could hold him here through sheer willpower. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“I won’t.”
It was the closest thing to forever they’d ever said to each other, and Max wanted to believe it could be.
He didn’t sleep much that night. Max stayed parked outside her house long after walking her to the door, watching the glow of her bedroom light until it finally went dark. He told himself he’d leave when she was asleep, but his hands stayed glued to the steering wheel, his heart beating louder than the crickets outside.
Morning came too fast. He stood on her porch in his pressed uniform, his duffel slung over his shoulder. Her dad answered the door, grunted something about “too early for this,” and disappeared back into the house. Max heard her footsteps upstairs, quick and light, and then there she was, rushing down to meet him, already wearing a smile he didn’t deserve.
“You’re really doing it,” she said, her voice tight with something caught between pride and fear.
“I am.”
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the crisp fabric of his sleeve. “You’re going to be okay, right?”
Max didn’t know how to answer that. He could handle the yelling, the rules, the miles of running. But leaving her? That felt like the first real battle.
“You’re the toughest guy I know,” she added softly, filling the silence.
“Tough’s not the same as okay,” he admitted, his voice low.
“Then I’ll be okay for both of us.”
The words hit him harder than he expected, wrapping around something fragile in his chest. He leaned down and kissed her, quick and desperate, like he could steal a little of her steadiness to take with him.
When they finally broke apart, she laughed softly, her forehead still resting against his. “You’re coming back, Max. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” he said.
He didn’t know if it was a promise or a prayer.
The bus station was quiet that early in the morning, just a couple of strangers milling around with their heads down and coffee in hand. Max stood off to the side with her, his duffel at his feet and his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep from grabbing hers. She said she couldn’t come, but watching him walk back to the truck made her call in sick for work and follow him in. 
“You should go sit,” he said, nodding toward the bench near the car park.
She gave him a look, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “I’m not leaving this spot until you’re on that bus.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Of course she wouldn’t. She was stubborn like that, always had been. He loved her for it, even if it made saying goodbye harder.
The bus pulled up, its brakes hissing as it rolled to a stop. Max felt the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders, heavier than the duffel. This was it.
He turned to her, unsure of what to say. Every word that came to mind felt too big or too small.
“Write me first,” she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but her eyes burned with determination. “As soon as you get there. Don’t wait for me to start.”
“I will,” he said, nodding. “Every day, remember?”
She smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding on so tightly it felt like she was trying to anchor him there.
He let himself hold her back, burying his face in her hair for just a moment. He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t let himself.
“I’ll see you after training,” she whispered against his chest, her voice shaking just a little. “I’ll be there, Max.”
He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
The driver called for boarding, and Max grabbed his bag. He didn’t look back as he stepped onto the bus. He couldn’t. If he did, he might not get on at all.
But as the bus pulled away, he glanced out the window. She was still standing there, exactly where he left her, her hand raised in a wave he couldn’t return.
He pressed his forehead against the glass, the weight of her promise settling in his chest. She would be there. He had to believe it.
Training was relentless.
The early mornings were the worst—before the sun even thought about rising, before his body remembered how to move. They ran until their legs felt like they’d snap beneath them, did push-ups until their arms gave out, and marched under the weight of packs that felt heavier with every mile. The shouting never stopped, every mistake earning a punishment meant to break them down and rebuild them into something sharper, stronger.
But it was nothing compared to what Max had already endured.
At home, the yelling was never meant to make him stronger. The bruises weren’t badges of discipline—they were reminders of how small he was made to feel. Every time he hit the ground during training, his drill sergeant barking at him to get up, Max thought of how often he’d done the same thing in that house. He got up then, and he got up now.
The other guys complained at night, lying on their bunks and licking their wounds, but Max didn’t join in. They didn’t know how lucky they were—how much easier it was to run ten miles when there wasn’t a door slamming behind you or fists flying to match.
And then there were the letters.
Her first one came the day after he arrived, folded neatly into an envelope with her handwriting scrawled across the front. The sight of it made his chest ache, and he didn’t even wait to get back to the barracks to read it.
Hey, tough guy. I hope this gets to you quick. Are they making you run as much as I think they are? Do you miss me? I miss you. It’s been one day and this town already feels different without you. Keep writing, okay? I’ll keep writing too. Just don’t let them make you forget who you are, Max. I love you.
The letters became his lifeline. Every night, after lights-out, he’d sit on the edge of his bunk with a flashlight and write her back. He told her about the blisters on his feet, the meals that barely qualified as food, the drill sergeant who could make a grown man cry with a single word. But he also told her how he was getting stronger, faster, better—how he thought about her every time things got too hard.
She didn’t just write about missing him. Her letters were full of details—what their friends were up to, how the leaves were starting to change by the lake, what songs were playing on the radio. She made him feel like he wasn’t missing everything. Like she was keeping his place for him.
The days blurred together after a while, a constant cycle of exhaustion and repetition. But then, one morning, everything felt different.
It was the last day of training.
Max stood in formation with the others, the sun rising behind them as their drill sergeant paced in front of the line. They’d been through hell together—guys who had started as strangers now felt like brothers. But Max wasn’t thinking about them.
He was thinking about her.
He scanned the crowd of families waiting just beyond the training field, his heart pounding harder than it ever had during a run. She had said she’d be here. She promised.
And then he saw her.
She was standing near the back, craning her neck to see over the heads of taller people in front of her. When their eyes met, she smiled so brightly that for a second, everything else—the noise, the exhaustion, the fear—fell away.
Max’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to focus. One last task. One last push. He would finish this, and then he’d go to her.
And this time, he wouldn’t have to leave too soon.
Max’s heart hammered as the ceremony came to a close. The drill sergeant dismissed them with a sharp bark, and the tension that had held the recruits in place finally broke. Families surged forward, cheers and hugs filling the air. Max stood frozen for a moment, scanning the crowd again until he saw her pushing through the mass of people, her face a mix of determination and joy.
She was exactly how he remembered her, but somehow even better. Her hair bounced as she hurried toward him, and the familiar tilt of her smile made his chest ache. And yet, as soon as she stopped a few feet in front of him, she planted her hands on her hips like she had all the time in the world.
“Well, well,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey there, tough guy.”
Max swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. But her teasing grin made the corner of his mouth twitch, threatening to break into a smile he wasn’t supposed to give just yet.
From behind her, one of his barrack mates, Danny came up and watched her as she eyed up Max. When she noticed him, he nodded at her. “Ma’am.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, I’m only young.” She stepped closer, looking at Max once more, her expression shifting to exaggerated awe. “That’s a whole lot of muscles you’ve got there now. What’ve they been feeding you?”
Max tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop his lips from curving upward.
“You’re not supposed to touch the recruits until they’ve been tapped out,” Danny said, his voice low, playful.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Max’s attempt at staying serious. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to keep my hands to myself for a minute longer, huh?”
He held her gaze, the tension building between them until it was almost unbearable. She took another step forward, her smile softening into something sweeter, something he’d missed so much it hurt.
“Max,” she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for him to hear over the noise around them.
And then, finally, she reached out and tapped his shoulder.
That was all it took. Max didn’t hesitate—he dropped his duffel to the ground and swept her into his arms, lifting her clean off the ground. She laughed, but it broke halfway through, and then she was crying, her face buried in his shoulder.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice muffled against his uniform.
Max held her tighter, his eyes stinging as he pressed his cheek against her hair. “I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice thick.
For a moment, neither of them moved. She clung to him like she was afraid he might disappear, and Max let himself soak in the feel of her in his arms—the warmth, the softness, the familiarity he’d craved every single day he was gone.
When she finally pulled back, her hands stayed on his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the hard muscle beneath his uniform. She tilted her head, a teasing smile breaking through her tears. “Seriously, Max. What’s with these muscles? You didn’t look like this when you left.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rough, and shook his head. “Had to give you something to brag about, didn’t I?”
She laughed, swiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh, I’m definitely bragging. You’re not going anywhere without me showing you off first.”
“Not going anywhere without you at all,” Max said softly.
Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes filling again. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
He cupped her face gently, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Always,” she said, and for the first time in months, Max felt like he was finally home.
As they were about to kiss, a cough disrupted them. Danny. “Are you done?”
“Leave me alone Danny, I’ve seen enough of you.” Max laughed, pulling her in closer. 
“I’m heading out, my girl’s at the car but I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Danny asked, taking off his hat and running his hand through it.
“Yeah you will. See you soon Dan.”
The desert heat was unrelenting, the sun beating down on Max and Danny as they sat outside their barracks during a rare moment of downtime. Max leaned against a wall, his cap pulled low over his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to shield him from Danny’s relentless teasing.
“You’ve been staring at that box for five minutes, man,” Danny said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “You sure you don’t want me to take it off your hands? I’d do a solid job proposing to her, you know.”
Max shot him a look, his jaw tightening, though there was no real heat behind it. “Touch it, and I’ll bury you in the sand.”
Danny snorted, tossing a rock lazily across the dusty ground. “Relax, lover boy. I’m just saying—you’ve had that ring for months. You’ve got the whole speech planned, don’t you? ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids, you’re my whole world,’ blah, blah, blah. Bet you even practiced in the mirror.”
Max rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet box, flipping it open to reveal the simple but elegant ring inside. He didn’t need anything flashy—she wouldn’t want that. The ring was perfect: timeless, just like her.
“I don’t need a speech,” Max said quietly, running his thumb along the edge of the box. “She already knows. She’s known since before I left the first time.”
Danny’s teasing grin softened into something more genuine. “She’s a lucky girl, you know. Not everyone would stick around through all this.”
“She’s not sticking around,” Max corrected, his voice firm. “She’s living her life—uni, friends, everything she’s always wanted. She’s just...waiting for me to come back, too.”
Danny whistled low. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess you’re the lucky one.”
Max didn’t argue. He thought about her every day—her laugh, the way she scribbled little doodles in the corners of her letters, the photo she’d sent him of her sitting on the quad with her textbooks spread out around her. She looked happy, and that was what mattered most to him.
But God, he missed her.
“I’ll ask her when we’re off duty,” Max said, snapping the box shut and tucking it safely back into his pocket. “The next time I get to see her, I’m not waiting. I’m not wasting another minute.”
Danny grinned, tipping his chair back on two legs. “You’re gonna make me cry, man. I’m just glad I’ll be there to see it.”
“You’re not invited.”
“Like hell I’m not.”
They both laughed, the kind of laugh that felt rare in a place like this. For a moment, the heaviness of deployment lifted, replaced by something lighter—hope.
But when the laughter faded, Max’s mind drifted back to her. He pictured her sitting in a lecture hall, twirling a pen between her fingers, her hair catching the sunlight. She’d promised him that first day he left that she’d always be there waiting for him, and she had never broken that promise.
And soon—so soon—he’d finally get to make one to her.
The cab pulled up to her apartment building, a modest brick complex tucked onto a quiet street just off campus. Max stared out the window, his heart thundering in his chest. It didn’t matter that he’d seen her a year ago on leave or that they’d talked just last week on a grainy video call. Being here, knowing she was just a flight of stairs away, made it all feel brand new.
Danny’s words echoed in his head as he grabbed his bag and climbed out. Don’t mess this up, man. She’s been waiting long enough.
The door to her unit opened before he could even knock. There she was, framed in the doorway, wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. She broke into a smile so bright it felt like the sun had come out, and before he could say a word, she threw her arms around his neck.
“Max!” she breathed, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.
He dropped his bag and wrapped her up, burying his face in her hair. She smelled like home, like everything he’d missed.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice catching.
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands sliding to his shoulders. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”
“I’m here.”
She laughed, the sound a little shaky, and grabbed his hand, tugging him inside. “Come on, I made dinner. It’s probably cold by now, but I didn’t want to risk leaving the kitchen in case—”
She didn’t get to finish.
Max stopped dead in the small kitchen, his eyes scanning the space—the mismatched dishes on the counter, the vase of sunflowers he recognised from her letters, the magnets on the fridge holding up her class schedule and pictures of them together. It was perfect.
And suddenly, he couldn’t wait.
“This wasn’t how I planned it,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“What?” She turned, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Max dropped to one knee right there in the middle of the kitchen, pulling the velvet box from his pocket. He saw her gasp, her hands flying to her mouth, but he was too focused to stop now.
“I wasn’t going to do it like this,” he said, the words tumbling out. “I had a whole plan—something big and romantic—but I don’t care about plans anymore. I just...I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I don’t want to wait another second to ask.” He opened the box, his hands steady despite the chaos in his chest. “Will you marry me?”
She froze, her wide eyes locked on his. The silence stretched, and Max felt a flicker of panic.
“So?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
That broke her. She let out a choked laugh, tears spilling down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees in front of him. “I’m sorry! I’m just—yes! Of course, yes!”
Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him fiercely, her tears wetting his face. Max held her close, the ring box forgotten on the floor as he kissed her back, pouring every bit of love and relief into the moment.
When they finally broke apart, she laughed through her tears, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “You really couldn’t wait, huh?”
“Not for this,” he said, his voice low and raw.
She smiled and kissed him again, slower this time, her hands sliding down to rest against his chest. Max stood, lifting her with him effortlessly, and set her on the edge of the counter.
“Max,” she murmured, her hands slipping beneath the collar of his shirt.
“Yeah?” he said, his forehead resting against hers.
“Welcome home.”
He smiled against her lips, capturing them in another kiss, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Max let himself feel it all—the love, the relief, the joy of knowing he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Dinner had been a blur, both of them too giddy and caught up in the moment to care that the food was lukewarm and hastily reheated. They laughed, talked, and stole kisses between bites, the kind of easy affection that felt like they’d never been apart.
Now, hours later, they were tangled together in her bed. The room was dark save for the soft glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds. She lay draped across his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin, her eyes fixed on the ring now resting snugly on her finger.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked quietly, her voice thoughtful but tinged with uncertainty.
Max’s hand came up to stroke her back, his thumb brushing along her shoulder blade. He let out a soft sigh. “I leave in three months.”
She stilled for a moment, her finger pausing mid-trace.
“But,” he added, his voice warm and steady, “until then, we live the happy life. All of it. You, me, late-night takeout, bad movies, everything.”
She tilted her head up to look at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Three months isn’t that long, Max. And I’m still at uni. I’ve got two more years. How—”
“We’ve made it work for two years while I’m away,” he interrupted gently, cupping her cheek with one hand. “We can do two more. You’ve been with me through everything—every deployment, every letter, every call. This won’t be any different. Except now,” he added, his lips quirking into a small smile, “you’ll be my fiancée.”
Her lips trembled, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and deliberate, her hand slipping over his to hold it against her cheek. When she finally pulled back, her eyes shone with determination.
“You’re really bad at letting me be dramatic, you know that?” she teased softly.
“Someone’s gotta keep you in check,” he said with a smirk.
She laughed quietly, settling back against his chest, and Max tightened his arms around her. They lay there in silence for a while, her fingers once again toying with the ring as if she couldn’t quite believe it was real.
He was engaged.
He was happy.
And he was going to marry the love of his life.
the end.
491 notes · View notes
kooggukk · 3 months ago
Text
sinful taste | jjk
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summary. things get out of hand when you meet with your ex at a party.
pairing: cheater!jk x reader
contains: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, drunk sex, car sex, no happy ending ;(
word count: 3.1k
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the party hummed with energy, music thumping through the packed space as people flowed in and out of the kitchen, joining more young adults in the living room and backyard, laughing and talking. totally unaware of a pair of eyes watching you the whole night, you enjoyed your time with your friends.
you stood at the doorframe of the kitchen, your arms crossed over your chest as you watched your best friend hit on a guy. she was showing you how a pro actually does it — because looks like you suck at it and she hinted at your ex boyfriend, who was a cheater.
you saw her twirling her hair and blinking with her long fake eyelashes, a chuckle left your lips. no way you were gonna do something like that on a man.
your eyes suddenly dropped to someone behind her, you hadn’t expected to see him here. after everything that had happened between you two, you had sworn you’d moved on. but the second your eyes met his, everything you’d been holding in — the hurt, the anger, the longing — came rushing back.
he wasn’t supposed to look at you like that. not after what he’d done. not after he shattered your trust, broke your heart, and left you to pick up the pieces. yet there he was, standing in the dimly lit corner, his eyes tracing your every move, filled with that same intensity that had once made you fall for him.
you knew better now. you knew that behind that look was a mess of lies, secrets, and betrayal.
how could you forget all that happened when he was fucking someone else in your house, on your goddamn couch.
not being able to stay in the same room as him, the air felt thick and filled with tension. you walked out, in front of the house where not many people were.
you sat down on the stairs that led to the porch, you knew he was behind you. “can we talk?” his voice was low, almost pleading as he sat down next to you, a beer in his hand.
god, you haven’t talked to him in like, 2 months. not ever since you kicked him out of your house, along with the girl he was balls deep in.
you shrugged, you left because you in fact did not want to talk, but he’s selfish. even if you said no, he will talk.
“i know i messed up,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean to d—“
“you cheated, jungkook.” your harsh voice interrupted him, his brows crashed together at that.
his eyes darkened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. he ran a hand through his raven hair, frustration clear in his posture.
“why won’t you just fucking let me speak?” he asked and he took a sip of his beer, you scoffed at his words.
“cause you fucked a whore on my couch, jerk.” his jaw clenched at your tone, he suddenly threw the bottle of beer away, anger flooding through his body.
you watched him with surprised eyes when he stood up and turned around to leave, without glancing back at you and saying a word.
your heart clenched at that once more, maybe you were harsh, yes. but he deserved it, after all the shit he put you through.
the night went on, you saw him a few times with his friends. you tried your best to ignore him, you put all your attention to your best friend. you told her what happened, and she hasn’t left your side since then.
you stumbled out of the house to get some air, struggling to keep your balance after a few too many drinks.
someone walked past you with the same struggling, almost pushing you over. a few mumbled cuss words left his mouth.
your eyes squinted, jungkook drunkly leaning on his car. “kook?” you called out to him when you walked over.
he struggled to open his car door, your eyes widened in realisation. “you don’t wanna drive, do you?” you said, your voice shaky.
he scoffed and finally opened his door. “why does that matter to you?” he spit the words out, hurt was obvious in his voice.
you stood there, staring at him. he was right, why do you care? he’s your asshole ex boyfriend, you’re supposed to not give a damn and encourage him to just go.
but you care. maybe a bit too much. “i’m just gonna lay in the back seat.” he sighed and plopped down, his head hitting the leather seat. the world was spinning with him, he was wasted.
you sat down on the other side of the backseat, the car’s silence was much quieter than the blasting music inside the house.
your eyes locked on his figure, head thrown back and eyes closed. you swallowed, your vision dropped to his jawline, sharper than ever.
you knew you should be angry at him for cheating on you, but you couldn't deny the attraction you still felt towards him. you quickly looked away as you noticed you were checking him out.
“why are you here?” his husky voice suddenly broke the silence in the car. you turned to look at him, brows furrowed.
you don’t know. you want to leave, so bad. but there was a time when it was only him and you. when you were in love. he was somebody in your life and even if you wanted to, you can’t watch him destroy himself tonight like that. what if something happens?
“do you not want me here?” he chuckled and shook his head. “you don’t answer to a question with a question, babe.”
you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the rush of emotions that hit you all at once. that nickname had once been so familiar, a sweet whisper on his lips when everything between you was easy.
now, it felt like a jolt to your chest, a reminder of what you’d both lost, yet still lingered between you.
“i missed you,” he suddenly confessed, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. “i’ve been thinking about you,” he sadly smiled.
“every day.” he finished his sentence, your heart felt heavy. he missed you? fucking asshole, he messed this up.
you wanted to say something, anything, but your throat tightened.
you felt his hand rest on your knee, it sent a shiver down your spine. you looked at him again, his eyes already locked on you.
you stared down at his hand on your knee, his touch burning through the fabric of your jeans. your body betrayed you, that familiar warmth creeping through you despite everything he had done.
you should pull away, you should tell him to get out of the car, out of your life, once and for all. but you didn’t move.
you closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but when you opened them, he was still there — his hand on your knee, his eyes full of regret and hope.
and despite everything, you couldn’t deny the pull between you, the unspoken connection that still lingered even after all the pain.
your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the past and the present, between anger and desire. and as his lips hovered near yours, you knew this was a choice only you could make.
your heart screamed at you to pull away, to leave before you let him in again, before you gave him another chance to break you. but your body leaned in, caught between the pain of the past and the heat of the present.
his fingers slid higher, resting on your thigh, his touch firm but tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d let him stay. you swallowed hard, every nerve in your body on high alert.
his eyes flickered with something raw and desperate, and he stayed still for a moment, searching your face for any sign of what you really wanted.
then, slowly, he closed the distance, his lips brushing yours in the softest kiss, hesitant, like he was giving you the chance to stop him.
the second his lips met yours, something inside you broke free. all the frustration, all the hurt, all the desire you’d been pushing down for months surged to the surface, and you kissed him back, hard, pulling him closer like he was the only thing that could keep you stable.
his hand tightened on your thigh, the other slipping around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he was terrified you’d slip away.
the kiss was urgent, full of the need that had been building up between you for so long. you could taste the alcohol on his lips, but it didn’t matter.
jungkook groaned softly against your mouth, the sound sending a rush of heat through you. his hand slid up your side, he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours.
you gasped against his lips, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.
his hand now rested on your stomach, caressing you softly before he sneaked his hand under your blouse, the skin to skin contact made your skin burn.
he slipped his hand under the top of your jeans, your pantie touching the tip of his fingers. he felt the little bow resting on top of it, a smile crept onto his lips as he kissed you.
he then suddenly moved his hand back up, sliding up your stomach. he didn’t stop until your covered left breast was in his palms, slowly massaging it.
you gasped at his touch, he slipped his tongue in your mouth as he explored it. your tongues fighting, sucking and kissing it.
he pulled away while he slightly bit onto your lower lip, pulling it with him. you whined, touching your lip as he let go of it.
“ow,” he smiled and gave it a short kiss again. “sorry,” he whispered, his head lowered to your neck.
he kissed and nibbled on the sensitive spot, your head tilted to give him better access to it, better access to claim you.
he pulled away only to pull your blouse over your head, his head falling to the top of your breasts instantly, leaving wet kisses on them.
without a word, you reached behind to unclasp your bra, the straps falling down your shoulders.
“hi beautiful,” he said when he was met with your bare breasts, “missed me?” he asked with his eyes locked on yours. his mouth found one of your nipple, twirling his tongue around it.
he watched your expression, your mouth slightly agape at the feeling. he tugged on your jeans, you understood him in an instant.
you moved your hips only to pull them down, his hand found it’s way to your clothed heat, softly palming you.
“wet already?” he asked when he switched to your other nipple, giving it the same attention.
you cursed at him with a low voice, your hand reached to his crotch.
“hard already?” you fought back, a chuckle left his mouth when he pulled away. “yeah, couldn’t help it. you’re damn hot.” he grinned at you.
before you could reply to him, his hand slipped under your pantie, his fingers played with your bare clit. a low moan left your lips at the familiar feeling, it’s been long since you’ve had sex — or touched yourself. not since you broke up with him.
he pulled off the only clothing (pantie) still covering your body, completely naked in front of him. he could swear he drooled at the sight of you.
he realized he was still entirely in his clothes. he quickly undressed himself, his hardened cock sprang free. you couldn’t help but to drop your vision to it, completely forgot how beautiful it looked.
he got closer again, his hand quickly back to where it was. he played with your wet folds, spreading it nicely. two of his fingers slowly entered you, your hands gripping his biceps.
“fuck,” you breathed heavily, the sudden stretching was uncomfortable. you weren’t used to this, after months of not being sexually active, this was like the first time again.
his eyes never left your face, making sure you were okay. he pulled his fingers back out, only to push them back in, curling them at the end.
your mouth fell open, embarrassing or not but you could swear you were already about to let go only from that.
you clenched around his fingers as he fastened his pace, a groan left his mouth when your hand gripped his cock.
you jerked him off slowly, sometimes stopping, too distracted from the pleasure he was giving you.
he suddenly added a third finger, stretching you even more. fuck, was that needed? the last time you remember having sex with him, he only did two. did he grew?
you haven’t noticed any change at the hold of his cock, but maybe because it felt new to you again.
he pounded his fingers into you, your wet juices made a squishy sound fill the car, along with heavy breathes, your low moans and his occasional groans.
“kook-“ you bit onto your lip, you were near. he knew it, your eyes shut, brows crashed together and your hand stopping jerking him off exposed you.
“let go,” he whispered, his lips leaving kisses on your neck once again. you whimpered, your thighs closing and body shaking as you came around his fingers.
it may have been bigger than before, due to not experiencing it for some time. he pulled his fingers out, the empty feeling made you sad.
you watched him lick his fingers clean, then leaning in to kiss you. “you did so good,” he praised you, his voice suddenly soft again.
you let a breathy giggle out at that, “do you wanna go further?” he asked, his fingers caressing the skin on your sides.
you looked at him with your soft eyes, he cared. you don’t know why that surprised you, he always cared when making love to you.
“yeah, do you?” he frowned, glancing down to his dick. “what do you think?” he asked with a grin, your cheeks turned red.
“come here,” he gently spoke as he pulled away and leaned in the seat. he pat his bare thigh, signaling you to sit on him.
your heart picked up it’s pace, the sight of his naked body — god, his cock laying on his stomach that stopped just under his belly button, it was so breathtaking. his beauty was on another level.
“what?” he asked with a smirk, you were just staring. “like what you see?”
you smiled and climbed on top of him, “yeah, a lot.” you grabbed his cock, placing it on your entrance.
“you minx,” he groaned, the feeling of your bare pussy touching his dick made his body full of goosebumps.
growing impatient, he suddenly lifted his hips, entering you. your mouth fell open, hands on his buff chest. he stretched you even more this time, your walls continuously clenching around his length.
he pulled you down by your neck to kiss you, relaxing your body to help him slide inside more easily. both of you let out a content sigh when he completely filled you up.
“gimme a minute,” you whispered, your forehead fell to his chest as you tried to steady your breathing and get used to him.
he stroked your back, his touch soft. “everything alright?” he planted a tender kiss on the top of your head.
you hummed, sitting in one place for some more time. “oh, fuck,” he moaned out when you got up and slammed back down out of the blue.
his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight and close — to feel you even closer and of course, making sure you don’t fall down.
your arms around his neck, your chests pressed together as you rode him. your pace was slow at first, gentle as you still got used to it.
it all felt intimate, maybe too much. you were exes, a hookup isn’t supposed to feel so … romantic. for a moment it felt like nothing changed, but you knew it was completely different.
maybe this could be called as a ‘sorry i fucked another whore’. you clenched around him at the thought of that again, but it went away as quickly as it came when he slapped your ass.
the sound echoed in the car, a moan was muffled by his lips on yours. his mind was filled with thoughts too, he missed having you like this.
it was like a dream to him, fucking you raw again after such a long time of no contact. your bodies were covered in sweat, you stopped kissing when he looked down at your bodies meeting.
the way you were bouncing and grinding on his cock was a sight he for sure will never forget. he threw his head back, a hiss left his mouth when you sucked on his neck.
“oh, ___,” he moaned out, it was whiny. he felt your walls tighten, you liked it a bit too much to hear him like that.
he looked back up, your eyes locked together as you bounced even more deeper and faster on him, his eyes dropping to your breasts for a second.
he held them in his hands, his eyes back on yours. he pinched your nipple and that was the end of you — your body shook as you came around his cock, clenching around him.
a low grunt left his mouth and he threw his head back again as he came too, filling you up nicely. he knew you were on pills, you have always been.
you both panted heavily, staying still for some minutes. you got off him, he leaned to the passenger seat to take some wet tissues out of the glove compartment.
you mumbled a low ‘thanks’ and you both cleaned yourselves up.
when he put on his shirt, you were already done dressing up. “by the way,” he started and he ran a finger through his raven hair.
you looked at him, “don’t tell this to aerum, please.” you frowned, aerum? who the fuck is aerum?
he awkwardly laughed and scratched the back of his neck at your confused reaction, “aerum, my girlfriend.”
your heart sank at that, of course. why did you even think this will take you both anywhere? you’re not gonna be his side chick tho.
you scoffed and looked away, “right.” he looked at you dumbfounded when you got out of the car, walking away from him.
once a cheater, always a cheater.
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23victoria · 20 days ago
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𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝔂 𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓳𝓪𝓬𝓴
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​​pairings: 𝓯1 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻
synopsis: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓪𝓭𝓶𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀����
word count:
authors note: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓼𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮, 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓾𝓭𝓸 ;)
𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!
F1 MASTERLIST F1 CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST
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Lewis
You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but watching Lewis chop down a tree was more attractive than you could’ve prepared for. His beanie sat low over his braids, and his tailored winter coat somehow still showed off his lean figure as he worked. He was taking his time, pausing every now and then to adjust his grip on the saw.
“You okay over there?” he called, catching you staring.
“Mhm, mhmm,” you replied, lips pressed together to keep yourself from grinning too wide.
Lewis raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re making it very hard to focus on Christmas right now,” you said, pushing off the car to walk closer.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to sawing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Says the man chopping wood like he’s auditioning for a holiday romance movie,” you teased, standing just close enough to admire the way his muscles moved under his coat.
When the tree finally toppled over, Lewis turned to you, his smile soft and inviting. “So, what do you think? Still distracted?”
“Very,” you admitted, stepping into his space and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Think you can distract me more?”
“I’ll try,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you.
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Charles
Charles was doing his best, really. He had one hand on the axe and the other bracing the tree, his face scrunched up in concentration. The axe was slightly too big for him, but he wasn’t giving up.
“Almost there!” he exclaimed, breathless, his accent wrapping around the words as he gave the tree another swing.
You leaned against the side of the car, your head tilted as you admired him. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. God, the forearms.
“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, eyes sweeping over him appreciatively. “Take your time, baby. No rush.”
He glanced back at you, chest heaving, a strand of dark hair falling into his face. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“No reason,” you replied, biting back a grin as you watched him plant his feet and take another swing.
When the tree finally came down, Charles threw his hands up in triumph, laughing. “Voilà!”
“Very impressive,” you teased, stepping closer to loop your arms around his waist. “You know, you look really good with that axe.”
His eyebrows raised. “Do I?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Good enough to make me forget about decorating the tree.”
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Carlos
Carlos had insisted on chopping the tree down himself, despite your offers to help. He had his jacket unzipped and his scarf hanging loosely around his neck, clearly starting to warm up from the effort. His strong hands gripped the axe expertly, his movements steady and deliberate as he worked.
“Looking good, Sainz,” you called, leaning casually against a nearby stump.
He glanced over his shoulder at you, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “I always look good, cariño.”
“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed, your gaze fixed on the way his biceps flexed with each swing. You weren’t even trying to hide the fact that you were ogling him.
Carlos noticed, of course. “You’re not even looking at the tree.”
“That’s because I’m looking at something much more interesting,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
With one last swing, the tree fell, and Carlos turned to you, resting the axe on his shoulder. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you’re too attractive for your own good,” you replied, stepping closer and tugging lightly on his scarf. “Think we have time to christen the cabin before we decorate?”
His grin widened. “You read my mind baby.”
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Max
You stood back, bundled in your warmest coat and scarf, watching Max work with the hand saw on the pine tree trunk. His jaw was clenched in determination, blond hair messy under his beanie, and his broad shoulders moving rhythmically with each pull of the saw. The man was efficient—grunting softly every now and then, his strength on full display.
“Almost there,” he muttered, glancing at you for just a second, flashing a confident smirk.
“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip and crossing your arms. You weren’t even cold anymore, not with the way he looked like some kind of outdoorsy calendar model.
When the tree fell with a soft thud, Max stood up and leaned against the trunk, wiping sweat off his brow. “What do you think?” he asked, breathing hard.
What you thought was that he looked so damn good doing that, you wanted to drag him into the cabin and forget about the tree altogether. “Yeah… looks great,” you murmured, trying to keep your cool.
Max narrowed his eyes knowingly. “You’re staring, schatje.”
“Maybe I like what I see,” you shot back, smirking.
“Careful,” he teased, stepping closer with that cocky swagger of his. “We might not even get the tree inside if you keep looking at me like that.”
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Lando
Lando wasn’t exactly the most experienced with an axe, but he was determined to prove himself. He stood in front of the tree, beanie crooked on his head, and his tongue sticking out slightly as he swung the axe.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?” you asked, hiding your amusement.
“I’ve got this!” he said confidently, though the axe got stuck in the trunk on his next swing.
You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair peeking out from under his beanie. “Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. He might’ve been struggling, but damn if he didn’t look good doing it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lando asked, catching the tone in your voice.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your grin gave you away.
Lando narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“Not at all,” you replied, stepping closer and brushing some snow off his shoulder. “In fact, I think you look pretty hot right now.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Well. Thanks.”
You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now hurry up before I get too distracted to wait for you to finish.”
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Oscar
Oscar insisted he could handle chopping the tree himself, even though you’d offered to take turns. His cheeks were already pink from the cold, the soft rise and fall of his breath visible in the winter air as he focused on the task. His grip on the saw was firm, and his jaw tightened in determination with each pull.
You stood nearby, bundled up in your jacket, unable to stop staring. He wasn’t showy or dramatic like some of the others might be—Oscar’s charm was in how quietly capable he was, how his calm confidence made it impossible to look away.
“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured under your breath, leaning against a nearby stump as your eyes trailed over the way his arms flexed with each movement.
He paused mid-saw, glancing up at you with a raised brow. “What?”
“Nothing,” you replied, biting your lip to hide your smirk.
Oscar tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You’re staring at me, aren’t you?”
“Can you blame me?” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked closer. “My boyfriend looks very attractive chopping down a Christmas tree. What am I supposed to do, not look?”
His cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t just from the cold this time. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed him.
“You love it,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Finish up so I can drag you inside and show you just how much I appreciate your hard work.”
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Sebastian
Sebastian looked like something out of a winter magazine as he worked, his green jacket snug against his frame and his woolen hat perched perfectly on his head. He made chopping down the tree look effortless, his movements efficient and controlled as though he’d been doing this his whole life.
You stood off to the side, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to suppress the utterly indecent thoughts running through your mind. Watching him chop wood should not have been this attractive. And yet.
“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed softly, tilting your head to admire the way his muscles shifted beneath his jacket with each swing of the axe.
Seb turned, catching your gaze, and a knowing smile spread across his face. “What’s that sound for?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
“Nothing,” you replied innocently, though the way you bit your lip gave you away.
“Nothing, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, resting the axe on his shoulder as he walked over to you. “You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes.”
“Can you blame me?” you asked, shamelessly letting your eyes sweep over him. “You look so good doing this, I’m starting to forget why we even need the tree.”
Seb chuckled, his gloved hand reaching out to tug you closer by the waist. “If we don’t decorate the tree, it won’t feel like Christmas,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Decorating can wait,” you murmured, tugging lightly on his scarf. “I have other priorities right now.”
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Jenson
Jenson looked like he belonged in a holiday commercial as he worked, his scarf casually thrown over one shoulder and his jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the sweater underneath. He was taking his time, not rushing, his movements deliberate and precise as he wielded the axe with ease.
You stood nearby, watching him with an almost embarrassing amount of focus. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and the way his body moved with such confidence and control was doing things to you. Things you probably shouldn’t admit aloud.
“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed appreciatively, your eyes shamelessly glued to him.
Jenson straightened, brushing snow off his hands as he turned to you with a smirk. “What’s with that look on your face?”
“What look?” you asked, feigning innocence even as your cheeks warmed.
“The one that says you’re not thinking about Christmas anymore,” he teased, resting the axe against the tree as he walked over to you.
You shrugged, tilting your head as you gave him a once-over. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend looks like he walked straight off the set of a Hallmark movie. How am I supposed to focus on the tree?”
He chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “So, what you’re saying is, I’ve distracted you?”
“Completely,” you admitted, running your hands up his chest.
Jenson leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about ways to distract you since we got here.”
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𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! ❥☽ @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon-blog @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @flowerpetalk @paucubarsisimp @its-elias-world @magixpracticality @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206
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fallbhind · 10 days ago
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝚰𝐋𝐅
ਏਓ WARNINGS: angst, smut, unprotected sex, make up sex(?), p in v, crying, arguments, chris gets pissed, reader get’s dragged by chris, DILF!CHRIS x CRYBABY!READER ✹
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the last thing you expected was to be a dilf’s sneaky link. well—not sneaky link, but secret hook ups. god, it was every single dilf trope, except you wouldn’t admit, but you were such a crybaby brat. you didn’t get the exact louie vuttion bag you wanted, tears that could make the new niagara falls. you didn’t get your way, tears. if you got even a little bit hurt, tears.
who was to blame for all this crybaby behavior? your deadbeat dad, who to keep you happy, gave you everything you want. almost like it was a trade for being a terrible dad. then you moved with your mom, and next door was that hot divorced dilf that all the single moms, married moms, and any mom in between drooled on. even your mom talked about him with a vulgar meaning behind it. but kitty did she know—her pretty daughter was the reason he rejected every single mom who tried to get him to go on a date with them.
this week was your lucky week. though you did miss his daughter (who was often the excuse for you to go over and see him). she was back in chicago with her mom.
you laid sprawled out on his bed, whinging about how college was way to hard for you. which was something you did on a daily either way. no matter how much chris wanted to each over and pop your mouth. he nodded to your constant complain, scrolling on his phone.
then—you decided to whine about chris not paying you enough attention. “and don’t even get me started on how you’re always so busy scrolling on your phone when anne isn’t here.” you huffed frustratedly. of course, he somewhat understood were you were coming from but it was so hard to understand we’re a literal college student is coming from. “it’s not fair!” you shouted, even then, when you were complaining about him, he still didn’t give you enough attention.
“you know what isn’t fair?” chris hissed, grabbing ahold of your chin, “that i have to put up with a whiny fucking crybaby who does nothing but complain about everything because she’s a brat!” he shouted in your face. the tears ebbed at your waterline as you forcefully shoved chris away, heading for the door.
“fuck—baby ‘m sorry—” he stumbled over his words. now he was the bad guy. “—come back kid, i didn’t mean it.” his hand grasped at your wrist, a hold that you once went into, you tore away from. but these tears, they weren’t your regular crybaby tears, god, he made you cry-cry. he was actually the asshole.
you didn’t seem to care people would have seen you walking out of chris’ house in tears, knowing the speculations it would start, but he did. he was scared that his single-dad reputation would be tarnished because of a college student. now that, that was scary.
and your reputation would be just as bad, the dilf whore. sure that’s what you were—but it was supposed to be kept on the down low. as you reached for the doorknobs, the color in chris’ face drained. he grabbed ahold of the scruff of your neck, pulling you back, his free hand closing the door. it wasn’t like he was going hold you hostage or anything, he was just going make you take the route you usually go. out the back, over the fence.
“i know, i know.” he soothed, leading you towards the back door. he felt like he was caring for a child. a bratty one. he opened the door, pushing you out. he looked at your sunken, tear filled eyes, like waiting for you to decide whether you were gonna stay or go.
you looked at him, sniffing softly before answering the look. “i think we should take a break.” no matter the amount of begging or pleading he did, he knew you wouldn’t change your mind.
throughout that week of not seeing you, he became utterly miserable. then his little girl came home. and he wasn’t as miserable, pretty much like before you moved, just him and anne. then one day, you showed up with cookies at his door. he was so happy, trigger happy, almost. “kid, i missed you so much.” you ignored him, like you should, shoving the plate of cookies in his hand, immediately turning to walk away.
“wait—please.” he begged, “let’s talk.”
his fingers gripped onto your shoulder like you were his life support. “come in?” at first, you were going to reply with a stark remark, but like normal, tears overcame that. you looked at him with a soft nodded, making your way in. chris did not miss those tears.
his shoulders slumped. “anne had a sugar crash. should be out for an hour.” he muttered as he sat the cookies on the table before guiding you back to his room. you stood awkwardly, ditto with chris. he stared at you. “look— i’m sorry about last week, i was just frustrated and you, you just kept complaining and i snapped. it won’t happen again—just, take me back?” he begged, almost pathetically. you nodded softly, not needing any more explanation. why should you? you were a college crybaby brat. and chris, chris loved you, maybe?
there, it that room solidified the new mark in your and chris’ relationship. his hands tender, pushed your hips into his, whispering softly. “we have fifteen minutes.” aka, twenty minutes for make up sex.
you nodded softly as he gently pushed you down onto the bed, tenderly pressing kisses against your neck, nipping at your throat. you let out a soft gasp of surprise from the sudden contact of his teeth. he pushed his pirate girl tee off, your glossy lips pressing kisses up against his chest. drawing out a long guttural groan from his chest.
he slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling the zipper down, whispering soft praises about how you looked oh so good underneath him. “i love you baby.” chris whispered softly, pushing the pair of jeans down. then he got to your underwear, it was lace—god, you were asking for more then you you handle. as he tugged the pair of pink lace underwear, showed the stringy line connecting to your hole, all the way to the damp spot on your underwear, bunching them up before shoving it he pair in your pockets.
then he thrusted his sweats down with a thrust of his hand, following his boxers. you let out a soft whine, as if to say he wasn’t going fast enough. “i know—just wait.” he grunted through his teeth, observing your body, pushing off your shirt. “function better with less on.” he stated, with that little of a reason on why he did what he did, he decided to get started.
chris aligned your hole with his cock, thrusting himself into you. you gasped, feeling cock in your gummy walls, your nails already attacking his back. “fuck, ma—” he grunted, “—try to keep the scratching to a minimum.” said chris airlessly. gosh, chris had barely moved in you, and your walls were all ready straining his cock. goes to show how desperate you really get without being dicked down every other week.
he started off with slow, paced strokes. going as gentle as possible—but man did he just want to devour the shit out of your tight cunt.
after he started to go off with faster strokes, his body moving with it, letting out soft grunts as you let out futile soft moans. your back arched off the bed, one of chris’ hand gripping onto your hips, readjusting as needed over time, the other settled on his forearm above your head to keep balance.
soon, tears ebbed at your waterline—what was wrong now?
you writhed against the thrusts chris delivered, your back arching further off the bed, your arms moving to wrap around the back of his neck. “sorry—it jus’, it jus’ feels s’good!” you cried out. his shoulder visibly relaxed when you admitted to it feeling good.
“i know.” he said cockily, deepening his thrust til he hit your g spot. you let out a moan that was a little to loud for his comfort, the hand resting on your hip, going to cover your mouth as he bullied your gummy walls. squelching filled the noise that was once your moans of sheer pleasure. your body tensed against chris’, coming on his cock, chris following not to long after you did.
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endlessthxxghts · 11 months ago
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Breakfast
Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader
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Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.
A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)
MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION
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Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 
So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.
“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 
“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 
With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 
“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 
“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 
“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 
Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”
You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 
“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 
“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 
Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”
Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 
Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 
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“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 
He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 
“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 
He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 
“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 
Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”
“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 
“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 
Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.
“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 
“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 
Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 
Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 
Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 
“Darlin’,” he rasps. 
“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 
“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 
Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 
At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 
“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 
“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 
He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 
Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”
“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 
His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 
Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 
“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”
“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”
“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”
“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 
“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 
“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 
“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 
“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 
You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 
He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 
You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 
“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 
“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 
Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 
“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 
You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 
“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 
“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 
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End note -
I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼
Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics
@pedrostories
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curawrites · 1 year ago
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Potter
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Slytherin boys (separate) x fem! Potter!reader
Slytherin boys: Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, and Blaise Zabini.
Warnings: forbidden romance?, swearing, smoking, alcohol, partying, horny teens, probably incorrect body shots.
Note: got back into Harry Potter and fell into the Slytherin boy rabbithole hole💚
Backstory:
You used to be very close to your twin brother. But your relationship changed for the worst during your first year at Hogwarts.
While Harry had been sorted into Griffindor, you had been sorted into Slytherin.
The both of you had tried to keep your relationship intact, but the rivalry between your two houses made it practically impossible.
By fourth year, you and Harry were practically strangers, and uninvolved with each other’s lives…
Draco Malfoy
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In fourth year, Draco decided to ask you out to the Yule Ball. Mainly to piss off Harry.
He swaggered up to you in the courtyard and asked you very loudly in front of a lot of people, including Harry, of course!
“Heard you didn’t have a date for the ball, Potter.” He said with a smirk, “You want to be my date?”
You eyed him suspiciously before answering, “Sure, why not Malfoy.”
Didn’t expect for you to actually accept.
Low key freaking out internally.
Thought you’d just tell him to piss off.
He’s very smug about it on the outside tho.
Especially when he sees Harry fuming on the side lines with Ron and Hermione.
He then escorts you to class like the gentleman he was taught to be.
“Don’t get an ideas Malfoy. I’m only going with you to piss off my brother.” You told him as you entered potions.
“Same here, Potter.” He rolls his eyes a bit.
Glad you have the same idea but also a bit disappointed that you’re only using him.
But he’s also using you so-
When it came time for the ball, Draco was waiting for you by the stairs. Mattheo and Blaise were waiting with him.
He couldn’t lie, he was a tad nervous. Fixing his hair every 2.5 seconds to the annoyance of his friends.
“Does my hair look good?” He asked for the billionth time.
“Your hair is fine mate! Why do you even care so much it’s just Potter.” Mattheo rolled his eyes at the blond.
“It’s not about her!” Draco hissed, “..I just want to look good!” He answered semi confidently.
A few moments later you appeared and began walking down the stairs.
Draco looked at you in awe. You looked stunning all dolled up, your hair was curled and pinned up in an intricate hairdo, and the dark green dress you were wearing fitted you perfectly.
You glanced at Draco every few steps as you descended the stairs, admiring him from afar. You couldn’t lie, he looked dashing in his suit.
Blaise and Mattheo snickered behind him, shoving him forward to make him help you down the stairs.
“You look nice.” Draco said awkwardly.
“Thank you, you don’t look half bad yourself.” You responded, taking his hand as you walked down the rest of the steps.
“You cleaned up nice, Potter.” Mattheo teased.
“Shut it, Riddle.” You rolled your eyes at him.
Draco escorted you to the punch table to have a drink before you had your first dance.
When you started dancing you were both very stiff and awkward, but as the night went on you became much more natural with each other.
You and Draco went on to have a nice evening. Making show of your “relationship” by calling each other by your first names and dancing together for the majority of the evening.
When the ball finally ended, you and Draco returned to the Slytherin common room together.
“I actually enjoyed myself tonight Draco.” You admitted with a smile.
“I did to, Y/n. We should do it more often.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes, “In your dreams, Draco.” You chuckled before to go to your dorm.
Leaving him standing in the common room, with his heart beating a few beats faster…
Mattheo Riddle
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FORBIDDEN ROMANCE OMG
You both kept your distance from each other for a long while.
You didn’t want to associate with the son of the man who killed your parents.
And Mattheo didn’t give a crap about you.
You only began to associate with each other in fifth year when you became friends with Lorenzo.
Which lead to you being included into the Slytherin gang.
You decided to put your differences aside for the sake of your friend.
You’re not super close with many of them, Mattheo included.
But you have a sort of playful relationship.
You guys banter SO MUCH!
Whether it’s insulting each other or sometimes being flirty.
Harry is SIDE EYEING y’all from across the great hall.
You find Mattheo insufferable in a weird endearing way.
Sixth year hit and you’ve decided to start living it up by attending parties with the gang.
Ravenclaw had beat Hufflepuff in quidditch which made the perfect excuse to throw a party.
You and Pansy had spent the evening getting ready together in your dorm.
“We look hot~” you commented while admiring her and yourself in your full body mirror.
“We do~ Now let’s go-“ Pansy grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the dorm.
Once at the party, you had a drink to ease your nerves before you decided to join the growing circle of people playing spin the bottle. Many of your friends were sat, including Lorenzo, Mattheo, and Theo.
You sat yourself beside Lorenzo, “What are we spinning the bottle for?” You asked, almost yelling over the music.
“Body shots!” Lorenzo smirked at you playfully.
“Fun!” You grinned.
Eventually Mattheo’s turn came and the bottle landed on you. Gasps and ooos filled the circle, making you scoff. Mattheo only grinned as he grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey and a shot glass.
Ron and Hermione had to hold back Harry from causing a scene.
“C’mere, Y/n~” Mattheo smirked, motioning you over.
You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, all while he unbuttoned his shirt.
You got on your knees in front of him, squeezing your thighs together as you cunt throbbed at the sight of his bare chest.
Mattheo smirked down, “Ready?” Once you nodded he poured the alcohol down his bare torso.
You didn’t hesitate to begin licking all of the liquor off his torso, savouring the way the fire whiskey burned down your throat.
Mattheo couldn’t stop himself from getting hard at the sight of you on your knees for him staring up at him with lusty half lidded eyes. It made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t feel towards.
The crowd wooed and whistled as you finished licking his chest having made sure to not miss a drop.
“Thanks for the shot, Matty~” you purred, winking at him, your cheeks equally as red as his.
You got up from your knees and returned to your spot beside Lorenzo. Once sat, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down.
You hadn’t expected to have gotten so turned on. It felt so wrong to be attracted to Mattheo.. but you couldn’t help yourself when all you could think about was his dark lustful gaze…
Theodore Nott
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You and Theodore became friends in first year.
Theodore was a bit of a loner, like yourself so you got along right away.
Because of this, you always paired up together in your classes.
Especially in potions which you both excel at. Unlike your brother, you inherited your mother’s potions skills.
You guys have definitely have bonded over dead moms/parents.
In fifth year you both became more acquainted with Draco and his gang.
It brought you guys out of your shells.
And further ruined your relationship with your brother but you didn’t really care.
You had Theo by your side and that’s all that mattered.
Although you’re “just friends” there’s definitely feelings at play.
Seeing everyone around you get into relationships made you yearn for one yourself.
Since you’re so close with Theo already you couldn’t help but think about being with him.
He’s such a pretty boy, with his hazel eyes, dirty blond hair and Italian accent.
Theodore had a little thing for you phase in third year.
He considers it a phase but the feelings never truly left.
The both of you are way to afraid to confess to each other in fear of ruining your friendship and of the retaliation from your families.
It was a Friday night and the gang had decided to sneak out of the castle to go swimming in the Black Lake.
Somehow the whole gang managed to bypass Filch and Mrs. Norris, even though the lot of you were giggling loudly at each other.
Once out of the main doors, you all ran to the rocky shores of the lake and spread out all of your towels.
Theo sat down and lit up a cigarette with Mattheo, while you took off your (Theo’s) shirt and your pj pants. Revealing your tiny bikini.
Mattheo wolf whistled at you, “Looking good Potter~” he teased.
“Fuck off Riddle-“ you said playfully and rolled your eyes at him.
“Shut it.” Theo muttered to Mattheo as he took a drag of his cigarette.
Mattheo looked at him, a grin spreading on his face, “What was that, Theo? You jealous or something? Don’t like me talking to your girl?”
“I’m not.” Theo denied as he watched you get into the water with Lorenzo, Pansy, and Draco.
He avoided Mattheo’s gaze to look at you and the others in the water.
Theo clenched his jaw as he observed you and Draco play in the water. Jealousy bubbled in the pit of his stomach.
“Sure you are.” Mattheo scoffed unconvinced.
“Fuck off-“ Theo shoved Mattheo lightly.
He took another deep drag of his cigarette in an attempt to ease his nerves.
“Theo!” You called from the water, “Stop smoking and get in the water!” You grinned joyfully at him.
Theo could feel his heart skip a beat at your radiant smile.
“Theo come on!” You called out again.
“Alright alright, bella-“ He chuckled before putting out his cigarette and getting up.
He took off his shirt and jogged towards the water.
You giggled and grabbed his arm to pull him the rest of the way.
There was no way he could let Draco have you…
Lorenzo Berkshire
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Lorenzo has prided himself in his academics.
He has good grades in all of his classes.
Except in history of magic. He’s actually failing the class.
Look it isn’t his fault! Professor Binns is just such a bore.
Seeing as Lorenzo was failing, Professor Binns assigned you, Y/n Potter as his tutor.
Lorenzo was pretty happy about having a cute girl tutoring him.
You’ve intrigued him since first year but he’s never had the chance to talk to you.
But now he sees you twice a week for tutoring.
And honestly you don’t get much tutoring done.
Lorenzo is just so engaging and interesting that you just forget about what you’re there to do.
“Merlin, Lorenzo! We need to focus!” You giggled as you realized how much time you spent conversing.
“Oops!” He giggled.
You found yourself easily charmed by the boy. He was very refreshing to hang out with.
He wasn’t like the other Slytherins who gave you the cold shoulder and looked at you sideways.
Exams were in a week and Lorenzo desperately needed your tutoring if he wanted to pass history of magic.
You both decided to increase the amount of tutoring you’d be doing per week in preparation.
It was the day before exams started and your last day of tutoring.
You made the plan to study in his dorm instead of the library as you found the latter to busy. Lorenzo made sure to kick out his roommates and clean up his area in preparation.
You met up in his dorm after class and wasted no time in taking out all of your notes and textbooks out.
“Ok, Lorenzo.” You said sternly. “No more funny business we need to focus.” You sat on his bed.
He sat in front of you, nodding in agreement, “I really need to pass this exam or my dad will kill me.” He said and got his own notes out.
“Alright. I’m going to quiz you on some stuff. Look over your notes and tell me when you’re ready.” You instructed as you organized a few papers.
Lorenzo nodded and began looking over his notes, desperately trying to not get distracted at the thought that you, a cute girl was in his dorm and sitting on his bed.
“Okay I think I’m ready.” He announces after a few minutes and put his notes to the side.
“Okay… question one..” you began.
You quizzed Lorenzo for the next half hour. He was truly trying his best. What motivated him the most was the praise you gave him after each right answer.
“Good job!” “Atta boy!” “You’re doing great!” “That’s right!”
Every single one gave him butterflies.
Eventually he managed to get all of them right.
“You got every single question right!” You exclaimed with a big grin, “ Well done! I’m sure you’re going to pass!”
“You really think?” He smiled shyly.
“Of course!” You said reassuringly.
You checked your watch, you had finished your quizzing just on time.
You began to pack up your stuff, ready to head back to your dorm to do some studying of your own.
“Thank you, for all of the tutoring.” Lorenzo thanked as he helped you.
“It’s no problem at all, you’re fun to tutor.” You admit shyly, “Good luck on your exam.” You bided him before leaving.
Lorenzo watched you leave, making a note to himself to ask you out on a date after exams..
Blaise Zabini
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You and Blaise got paired up for a project in potions once.
You both weren’t thrilled because you didn’t really get along.
At least you weren’t paired up with Seamus.
And in a way it worked out well for Blaise because he didn’t have to partner up with any of his idiot friends and have to do all of the work.
You did so well on the project together that Professor Slughorn decided to continue paring you guys up.
Hanging out with Blaise was now unavoidable.
Your interactions went from uninterested, cold and limited to being much more frequent and nicer.
Being much friendlier to each other also helped you work even better together.
“Hey, Zabini? How do you cut these roots again?” You asked quietly, glancing over at him.
“Oh you cut them in half and then..” he leaned over to help you.
You couldn’t help but be shy about the close proximity between you two.
He was close enough that you could smell his piney aftershave and his minty breath.
Not to mention his voice was so deep and smooth as he talked.
You snapped quickly out of it and focused back on what he was saying.
“Oh right. Thanks.” You thanked him and proceeded to cut the ingredient as he instructed.
“S’no prob.” He said, hesitating before leaving your side.
Since you were already doing so much work together, it was easier to just study together as well.
This resulted in you two spending more time together.
The library became you main hangout spot.
Away from his annoying friends who always burst into his dorm asking stupid questions just for the sake of bothering you two.
“Do you understand what question 8 means? I completely forgot what Professor Bins said about it.” Blaise asked, furrowing his brows with a sigh.
“Uh let me see..” you leaned over to read his parchment.
While you muttered the question to yourself, Blaise couldn’t help but stare at your focused face.
You looked cute, bitting your cheeks as you played with a strand of your curly hair. He could tell you had just washed it because you smelled strongly of lavender.
“Um I just wrote down this…” you sat up and grabbed your parchment.
You guys only considered yourselves acquaintances.
Yeah you found each other attractive.
You’re both attractive people after all and you were just acknowledging the obvious ok?
You two truly were oblivious idiots who couldn’t realize you had crushes on each other.
You were headed to what you thought would be another ordinary potions class.
You sat down beside Blaise and took out all your supplies, ready for whatever Professor Slughorn was going to make you guys brew.
After a bit of waiting, Slughorn began his lesson. “Today, we will be learning about Amortentia. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”
Hermione shot up her hand eager to answer.
“Yes, Miss Granger?” Slughorn picked her.
“It’s a love potion sir.” She answered
“Corrected, ten points for Griffindor!” Professor Slughorn grinned.
He went on about the lesson, talking about the potion’s history and the risk involved with brewing it and its results.
“Now that we’re done with the lesson, I invite you all to come up and smell this batch of Amortentia I brewed just for this class.” Slughorn said enthusiastically.
You watched as your classmates went up and smelled the potion.
It was amusing seeing how many answered with a stutter and returned to their seats with reddened cheeks.
Finally it was your turn and you had no idea what you would smell.
You leaned down to take a deep inhale of the potion and the overhwhelming sent of Pine and mint flooded your senses.
“And what do you smell Miss Potter?” Your Professor asked.
You hesitated before speaking, “Pine and mint sir.” You answered.
Then the realization hit you and your eyes grew wide.
You smelled Blaise.
You blushed in embarrassment and kept your head down as you walked back to your desk.
“Who did you smell?” Blaise asked you curiously.
Before you could give him a half assed answer you were interrupted.
“Mr Zabini! Your turn!” Professor Slughorn announced.
Blaise got up from his seat and approached the potion.
It took a few smells for him to realize what he was smelling wasn’t your scent lingering on him. The potion itself smelled like lavender.
The gears in his head began to turn and it all began to fit. He smelled your shampoo.
He felt his cheeks heat up a bit from embarrassment and he quickly glanced at you.
Class was going to be very interesting…
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mapis-putellas · 1 month ago
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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
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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.
**
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