Tumgik
#like it's in a week and I feel like I know nothing....
feelgoodinct · 3 days
Text
nsfw, mdni.
simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.
cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).
simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.
you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.
you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.
“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.
he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.
you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.
he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.
he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.
you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.
“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.
he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.
“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.
“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.
he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.
your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.
simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that make you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”
2K notes · View notes
webism · 22 hours
Text
Tumblr media
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !
After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.
pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two
cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.
Tumblr media
The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you. 
That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better. 
“Cold feet?” You ask. 
His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.
“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."
Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."
Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin.  Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.
Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.
Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.
And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.
Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again. 
The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day. 
“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway. 
“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months. 
Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”
You smile. “Mhm, talk.”
“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you. 
You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments. 
Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing? 
You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end. 
“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”
You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”
Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised. 
“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask. 
“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”
He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—
The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo. 
His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both.  His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.
“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."
It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in. 
“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”
You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.
You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.
The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."
You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?" 
Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."
Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."
Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."
Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside. 
"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."
You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.
The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.
"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips. 
There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it. 
This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.
So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.
“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”
You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"
You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.
It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.
And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.
You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.
“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”
“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"
"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"
Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."
“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you. 
Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”
A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.
He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.
Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless. 
Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.
He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."
You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is." 
Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.
For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.
And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.
Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"
This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."
"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."
His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin. 
Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.
“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”
“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”
Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”
His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.
Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you. 
Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.
"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe. 
Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.
You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.
Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.
"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.
Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock. 
You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault.  He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours. 
"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."
You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.
"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”
He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.
You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers. 
“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum. 
Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently. 
“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”
You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”
“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”
Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”
Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.
It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers. 
A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?
Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember. 
“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”
As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.
Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going. 
"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone. 
Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."
And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.
"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."
Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.
It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.
Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.
"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.
Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn. 
"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."
And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him. 
A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you. 
This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless. 
And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.
"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours. 
"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"
"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."
You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.
His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.
"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life. 
You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear. 
You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next. 
Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.
And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. 
Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.
“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”
Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”
You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.
“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”
You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed. 
“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.
TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine
cont in comments !
948 notes · View notes
prael · 3 days
Text
Oranges And Flowers
Kinktember Day 18: Romance
IU (Lee Jieun) x male reader smut
words: 10,517 Kinktember Masterlist
Tumblr media
"Can I be honest with you all?" A question for a question, and they all turn their heads, and finally you offer them a real answer. "I didn't really know what I was getting myself into—when I applied to stay here, that is—I just needed a place to stay for the week."
The evening air is humid and still, the sky a flat obsidian black with shining constellations, and underneath it, surrounding a fire, is a circle of maybe the most mismatched group of people ever assembled. There are the stars of course, Hyori and Sangsoon, owners of the house and the famous couple hosting you all—then, Lee Jieun; you know the one, probably the single most famous person in the country, just casually sitting there in her summer dress as if she was nothing special at all. And then there's the guests, an assortment of people you still don't really know. The old couple, the young couple, and the sisters.
And, finally: you.
"So you applied to the TV show, just for somewhere to stay?" Hyori's laughter carries and is as contagious as it is clear and pleasant.
"Honestly," you look around the circle. "I didn't read a lot of the info, and even now I'm not too sure what's actually going on in the show."
This earns a laugh from the group, they're all looking at you, and not in that 'you-fucking-moron' sort of way, no, their faces are full of smiles. Though, one stands out above the rest.
"And you?" Hyori turns her attention to the next person in the circle, one of the sisters who is sitting on your left. All the stares move along with the questions, switching focus to the girl—all except one. Jieun sits directly across from you and her gaze rests stoically upon your face, an unreadable smile painting her delicate lips a plush and radiant pink. Between you, the fire burns. It sends spiralling embers shooting into the night and, behind it, the orange light dances over her skin. It would be so easy to get the wrong idea here. This place is just so beautiful, everything is picture-perfect, and all these postcard-worthy scenes feel even better when Lee Jieun is a part of the composition.
Laughter breaks out in the group again for some joke you never paid attention to. It steals the attention of you both, however, turning to the girl and joining in the laughter with a meek half-hearted chuckle, looking around at them all awkwardly before returning your eyes to Lee Jieun. She returns the look and lifts her drink, taking a long sip through a straw.
You weren't too sure about all this the first day you arrived. On paper it seems like such an obvious idea, you didn't have to pay a penny and the producers even picked you up from the airport, all in exchange for being a bit-part background character that no one who watches will ever really remember or care about. In reality, it has changed the whole holiday. The requirements for guests were rather simple. You just need to be around for a few set activities by the producer, all worked around your schedule, and then you're free to enjoy your time however you like.
That first morning, you were greeted at the house by Hyori and Sangsoon. Introductions were made and then a short tour began, all under the camera's watchful eye.
It was okay, you could handle it, right up until you were taken into the kitchen and standing there was Lee fucking Jieun. Apparently, you skipped over the part that said IU was going to be here. It was like staring into the sun. Of course, Hyori was quick to joke as you stood there stunned and silent with an open mouth that could catch a mosquito or two.
"Why am I being outshone in my own house? Jieun, you need to leave." Hyori playfully poked her friend in the arm, and Jieun just giggled along. And like the world's biggest idiot, you couldn't even muster a simple 'Hello'. Great first impression there.
From then on you were shown where you would sleep and you bumped into some of the other guests. They seemed normal enough. One was nice, one seemed grumpy, and the others—well, you really didn't know yet. When you settled into your room, you yearned to just do something normal, to not get overwhelmed. Making some tea seemed like the perfect grounding activity.
When you got there, the kitchen was empty. The teapot was already out, but everything else was decidedly harder to find. Then came that soft and gentle voice from behind you. "You won't find anything to steal in there; it's all baking supplies." It made you jump, and you snapped around to see Jieun leaning against a fridge door, smiling over a glass of something clear and carbonated.
You pointed at your chest like an idiot. "I'm... not looking to steal."
"Too bad." She took a long and dramatic sip. "It would have made for good television. Plus, you look like a kleptomaniac to me. Brooding and mysterious, travelling alone, all that sort of thing."
"I'm actually just trying to make some tea."
"Oh perfect, let me. Here," She took the cup from the kitchen counter, placed it in front of you, and then moved beside you to open the correct cupboard to pull out some tea leaves. It was funny the kind of thing that can go into making a good impression and the pressure you put on yourself to do so. How many would kill for this chance, to stand close to Jieun in an otherwise empty room? Yet, your mind was swimming, you were trying desperately to not think about the very famous, attractive, woman who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with you—trying desperately and failing horribly as the thoughts of something funny to say slipped out of reach entirely.
She leant in towards you—well, towards your cup—and you jumped back, trying to play it off as a simple 'making way' manoeuvre, but her little side-eye glance and smile told you how stupid you looked.
"This is one of the few things I know what to do. Tea. I can make tea," she was saying as she filled up the teapot. "They asked me to try and bake some bread this morning, but..."
"Where is it now?"
"It's in here," she pointed at the rubbish bin with a free hand.
"I think it bakes better in the oven. Can't tell you much more than that though." Boy did this woman laugh. Like, a lot. As if it was the funniest thing she had heard all week. Her shoulders shook and her whole body swayed, and when the teapot whistled it made her jump, which sent her spiralling back into another fit.
And suddenly, she looked so... normal. 
You know it's unfair to say celebrities are anything other than just normal people, because of course they are normal people, it's not like fame and money change them on a fundamental level. That being said, they can't help but not be normal in the eyes of many. Celebrities are celebrities,  like how someone with blue hair is always blue-haired. But, at the end of the day, Jieun, whether she is IU the singer and TV star or Jieun the disaster of a breadmaker, is just a regular, normal, though very gorgeous, woman.
And she looks that way now, too, across the campfire. Sure, the cameras are rolling and she puts a little extra emphasis and playfulness on her expressions and movements—who wouldn't for the sake of good television—but in this moment, right here, right now, she's a completely normal and likeable human being, one you think you might enjoy being around. Hyori continues to lead the discussion around the fire pit, asking a few probing questions about the guest's hobbies and home lives, then posing riddles to the group and comparing their answers with her husband Sangsoon's.
For you, her questions are answered quickly, giving them a quick thought and little else before letting them fall from your lips.
When Hyori moves her focus along, she doesn't fail to pick up on the way you and Jieun spend the remaining half hour or so, looking at each other, smiling every so often, then quickly pulling your gaze away as if caught red-handed doing something sinful.
~~~
"We're going to pick oranges this morning." Hyori is explaining over breakfast. "I know, it's not the most exciting but it's the Jeju staple activity, so we have to do it. All guests are welcome to join us."
The young couple sat to your right immediately volunteered their services, followed soon after by the older man and his wife. Once their attendance was secure, the rest seemed significantly less interested and all excused themselves for other tasks. As the only person yet to respond, Jieun turned the spotlight on you, "How about you? Are you going to join us?"
You shrugged. "Uh, I was going to meet a friend, actually."
Hyori is quick to follow up, "You could see them in the afternoon right? Come with us, it will be fun." There are a few puzzled looks around the table. See, Hyori didn't push anyone else to go, no, only you. "Your friend won't mind right?"
In all honesty, your friend might very well be livid, though he might very well lighten up if you told him who you were spending your morning with instead. You run a hand through your hair and admit defeat, looking towards her. "Okay, I'll come along."
An answer that produces an immediate, but brief shared glance between Hyori and Jieun.
~~~
The journey there was lacklustre, a short ride, with the other guest, separated from the stars who rode ahead. The staff member with you gave you a basic run down, they are only planning to use the guests in some overhead shots and some background shots, everything else would be focused on the three of them.
But, after climbing the stone steps and passing through the orchard gate, Hyori takes charge of the situation. "We'll split up into pairs. Our two older lovebirds can go together, and our younger couple too. Sangsoon is with me and..." She stops. Hyori gives you a devious grin, one that speaks louder than words. "That leaves you two." She gives a final affirming nod before striding over to join Sangsoon.
And just like that, you find yourself walking through the grove alongside a girl you've only ever seen on TV before. This morning she wore a cute ensemble that accentuated her long legs. Another flowing sundress with a belt tied tight at the waist to show off that lithe, feminine shape. It's a silent first few steps, walking off down between two rows of trees, both waiting for the other to initiate the conversation.
Jieun speaks first, breaking through the tension. "So, you said you know someone on the island?"
"Uh," you brush a loose strand of hair from your eye. "A couple of them actually, old friends. One lives in Jeju and another's been here for work and he said I should visit when I'm in the area."
"What are they like?" Jieun stops, so do you, and then she steps across you, before crouching down to take an orange from the low-hanging fruit. "The friends."
"Uhm..." What are they like? Good friends, obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be making this trip. Where's the drama, where are the fun anecdotes, or the moments of soul searching. Nothing comes to mind. "They're fine?"
It earns a chuckle from Jieun. "Fine?" She stands facing you, dropping the fruit into the basket you're carrying. "Is that all?" She flashes you the sweetest smile, an endearing smile, one that begs you to open up a little more.
"I met them recently, actually, it's been mostly online, to tell the truth." Jieun ducks down to get the next fruit, you bend down too and pluck at another on the opposite side, rotating to turn to her and handing her the basket, standing back up and following beside her once more. "They're funny, one of them is a big foodie. Always posts pictures of stuff like the best bibimbap in Busan or whatever. Has a whole food blog that's fairly popular."
Jieun nods, pondering and popping a new piece of fruit into the basket. "Do you like food?"
"Can't live without it," you joke.
Jieun chuckles, and you laugh with her. It is hard not to, her laughter is so cute. "So can you cook?" she follows.
"Instant noodles is about all I know."
"Somehow I even manage to ruin those," she admits with a fake frown and a laugh. "I think that's part of the reason I'm on this show."
"What's that?" you ask as Jieun reaches for another ripe fruit, she pulls it from the branch and then somehow manages to drop it on the floor, a gesture you couldn't help but find positively adorable. She runs a few steps after it as it begins to roll on the hard dirt ground, and bends over to scoop it up, presenting it to you victoriously with her smile.
"What's what?"
"You said it's why you're on the show."
"Oh, because I'm kind of, useless? Clumsy, not very domesticated, really."
"Those things don't make you useless, you're anything but useless." Is that flirting? A line you spout before the weight of the words and the loaded tone settle in your own mind. Jieun turns to you, eyes sparkling, cheeks rising as she smiles wider than you had seen before.
"And why is that?" There's no escaping her questioning, and maybe she enjoys it a little.
"Well." A fruit, any fruit, grab another fruit. Look away and look at the tree. Breathe. Turn to her again. You can do it. "You just put all your talents into singing and performing and acting and whatever else you do right? You put all your skill points into one tree so to speak, instead of scattering them to fill multiple."
She stops. Frowns. "What?" Her face twists in a confused mess. "Skill points?"
"Oh. It's like, in games, when you earn skill points to improve something and choose what you want to..." You realise how utterly ridiculous you sound. "Never mind."
Her face is one of wonder, there's this mixture of confusion, curiosity, and her clearly fighting back laughter. "No," she laughs. "Continue, please, you were doing a whole thing there."
"I embarrassed myself enough for one day. Thank you."
"Are you a bit of a nerd?" She asks with this teasing smirk before spinning away, her floral dress flowing in the wind, and walking further ahead.
"Hey! No! Not a nerd!" you call after her, following in her wake.
"Look like a nerd to me" She twirls around just before the turn in the row, leaning on the trunk of one of the few taller trees, smirking and playfully twirling a few strands of her dark hair around her delicate fingers.
From then on, the conversation flows far easier and quicker than it probably should. A playful back and forth as she questions your hobbies and quirks, you fire back asking for her own. Things range from the kinds of books she likes to her telling you how she always sings into her toothbrush every morning when she is brushing her teeth. You promised not to tell a soul, as her secret was safely in your hands. She has a quick wit and a slightly goofy sense of humour, the kind of things a magazine spread or a soju advertisement could never communicate or capture.
Despite her charm and charisma though, the thing that shines through the most is the way she listens to you. With genuine care and fascination, and not just for the cameras, no, it felt genuine. Honest. True.
"No. You can not be serious!"
"One hundred percent true." You pull out your phone and show her the photos on the screen. A blurry mess at first before you flip to another.
"That's you? And that's... is that..." She doesn't need to finish, she takes hold of the phone and holds it directly up against her face. "Why did you think that was a good idea?"
"I never thought it was a good idea, I lost a bet, and we had been drinking. Bad decisions were inevitable."
"This might well be the single worst tattoo I have ever seen." She doesn't stop squinting at the photo. "Why is it upside down?"
"I don't think the orientation would make it any better."
"Wait," Jieun says, looking away from your phone and into your eyes. "You have to show me it, I want to see it with my own eyes."
"Absolutely not."
Jieun slaps at your arm, pretending to be upset. "Come on!"
"Jieun, even if I wanted to show you my ass, there would be no point, I had it lasered off like 2 months later."
Jieun's laughter could ring for a day. It's infectious, it's a laughter that communicates how light, happy and free-spirited she feels—and it makes you feel exactly the same. You talk a bit about travelling, too. Places you've been, places you would still like to go. For Jieun, it became a bit of a flex. A concert here and a concert there, movie filming there and a photoshoot here.
"You've seen the world, and met everyone, but here you are picking oranges with me."
"Here I am." Jieun stepped aside as you passed, looking around at the beautiful weather and the swaying tree branches. "I like this more, I think." She stops. You turn, seeing her suddenly shift a bit shy. "It's nice, this..."
"Oranges are nice and all..."
Jieun giggles. "No, silly," Jieun purses her lips. "This. Me and—"
"Hey, you two! Having a nice time!?" Sangsoon calls out to the pair of you from a few rows down. In unison, the two of you turn to him, to his big, smiling face, and then watch as Hyori hits him on the shoulder and admonishes him for interrupting. For a second it looks as though Jieun is blushing as she looks away from his gaze and towards the ground, scratching her brow, hand almost acting as a shield.
"We should get back."
"Yeah, I'm all orange'd out," you say, holding up the full basket.
~~~
You had spent the afternoon away from the house, which was probably for the best, spending some time in reality instead of this strange new world where you're suddenly hanging out with IU. The friend, your old university colleague and Jeju local was eager to catch up. Despite a minor disagreement—or two, or ten—he took it in good sport. Before nightfall though, you had returned and had just taken a shower.
There's a knock at the door, so you quickly pull on a shirt and open it to find Hyori on the other side. "Hey stranger," she follows your gesture and walks into the room before perching on your bed. "How was your time today?"
You close the door behind you. "Fun. I spent some time catching up with some friends."
"And making a new friend?"
A small nod. "I enjoyed myself today, it was all quite... different than what I had been doing. It was..." You weren't really sure how to follow up.
"I get it." Hyori leaned back on her hands. "But Jieun really seemed to have a lot of fun today."
You're stuck in this awkward silence, not wanting to say anything stupid but also refusing the play it down.
Hyori takes mercy on you. "Anyway," she pushes herself to her feet. "We're eating outside again, barbecue, come join us."
A smile appears, an acceptance of the invitation. She watches it come out and nods at it, as if pleased with your decision. And with a brief smile, she leaves the room and you're left alone. You leave the room.
You arrive on the back porch and watch the scene from a distance. Jieun sits by the fire in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, looking so naturally good it could take the breath of anyone who stared long enough. Her legs look spectacular in shorts, her chest looks perfect through a white t-shirt, and she looks breathtaking right now—in this light and under these circumstances. The fire-pit burns again and as it does, Hyori and Sangsoon stand near the grill, their backs turned and talking among themselves. By Jieun's feet rests one of Hyori's dogs, sound asleep.
As soon as your foot hits the grass to start walking over, Jieun turns to see you approaching and a radiant smile cuts right through your defences, punching into your heart and embedding a spear made entirely out of a whole array of butterflies. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't join us," she teased with a flick of her hand.
"Good to know I'm missed when not around."
Jieun is about to say something but appears to bite her tongue and look back at the fire. There's a space next to her on the little log chair she sits on, though you think it too presumptuous to sit right by her so soon, and take the little wooden armchair opposite instead, crossing your legs and stretching, pulling your phone from your pocket, to check for notifications. None. You stare at it anyway.
There's a solemn silence for a while, the cooking of meat and the playful bickering of the couple by the grill and the occasional chatter amongst the other guests. This leaves you and Jieun, slowly drinking from your glasses, separated by the fire.
After some time, the food begins to come in batches, and you eat with everyone else. The group shares the tale of their expedition to the oranges this morning, like how Hyori claims she found the largest orange of the day only for the young couple to later find and present a larger specimen. Some of the others share how they went into town and saw some old houses, or an old shrine, visited the beach and splashed around in the water and a few others sit and listen quietly, nursing their drinks.
Eventually, you begin to grow drowsy and stifled by the warm heat of the fire, a blanket that draws everyone closer, too close.
You stand, pat yourself off and let your gaze rest on the fire, then speak to no one in particular. "I'm going for a walk, thank you for the food," you say as you bow your head to your hosts.
"So late at night?" Jieun asks from her perch.
"Got a bit too warm is all, fresh air would be nice."
Jieun glanced down at the fire and her eyes shot up at you. "Let me join you, keep you company."
Hyori and Sangsoon share an understanding glance, before Hyori says, "Be careful you two."
Jieun stands up. "Soonshim can come with us, can't you Soonshim? You'll keep us safe." She bends down to stroke her behind the ears, and she lazily raises her head and grumbles in that cute way that animals do. She happily climbs to his feet and yawns.
Off you went, walking the stone path. Up a gentle incline before cutting left towards a quiet path cutting through some trees. For a while, the night is filled with the sound of rustling trees and the snapping of fallen sticks underfoot. That's all until Soonshim leads your party off onto an even more remote dirt track.
"Now where are you going?" Jieun coos playfully, not expecting much of a response.
"She probably knows this area better than we do," you suggest with a smile and Jieun returns it. You seem to bring a lot of smiles out in each other. Soonshim appears to have a destination in mind, the dog bounds along the track and you follow, the path becomes more and more unstable, and the darkness of the evening isn't doing either of you any favours.
Jieun steps up onto a stone in the path and she slips, wobbling from the momentum of the step with a small yelp and you catch her immediately in your arms.
"Careful," you chuckle nervously. She doesn't move, but relaxes into your chest, closing her eyes. You have her. You keep her steady, her breathing is fast and short. It slows and slows, her fingers lightly clasping at your arms. She relaxes and her voice comes at near a whisper.
"Thank you."
And then, slowly, she lifts herself away without looking you in the eye and lets out a small cough. She starts to walk again, this time holding onto your hand—for safety. You smile at the touch and gently squeeze back, taking care as you descend and traverse the difficult ground. Soonshim still leads onward, barking and jumping in her bounding little way and occasionally waiting for the slow, careless, humans to catch up as she heads uphill.
Before long you come to a clearing at the top which blesses you with a view of the rolling countryside, bathed in moonlight, and a peaceful soundscape, far removed from anything but the sounds of nature. Back down the hill, over the trees, you can see the roof of the house, and the glowing of the fire out front.
Soonshim finds a nice place for a rest, and the Jieun leans her head into your shoulder and says quietly, "Tell me something that no one knows."
Soonshim rests. Jieun looks expectant, and suddenly, you're struggling. There must be something interesting. No. Something cute or funny? No, nothing seems quite right. And yet her eyes are searching for answers. The seconds pass and you rack your brain trying to remember, going into the darkest of dungeons in your memories, hoping something would come.
"Something that no one knows," you mutter to yourself. Jieun leans closer. Something that no one knows. Soonshim yawns, laying her chin on her paws as her tail softly hits the grass beside her. "I had this girlfriend, a few years ago. She was kind and sweet and loving."
"What's not to love about that?"
"Ah well." You snickered, a chuckle under your breath. "When she's doing the same thing with another guy it kind of takes the shine off a little."
"Ah... I'm sorry," Jieun reaches out, resting a consoling hand on your forearm. Her grasp is delicate. "It must have been tough. How did you find out?"
"They were bad at hiding it. When I did confront her, she didn't deny it."
Jieun lets out a small breath, something between a gasp of surprise and a grunt of disbelief. "Wow. So did it end, like, there and then?"
"Yep. Walked out and have been free ever since. Never looked back." You smile, looking out across the plains below.
"Do you prefer to be free? Not tied down and always going after adventure?"
"If I wasn't free, I wouldn't be here. If I was tied down I would never make this trip."
"Doesn't answer my question," Jieun jokes then pokes you in the ribs.
"No. Not really." A period of silence follows as you take in the fresh air and the scenery before you. The sound of crickets rings out and the breeze swirls its way through the brush. Jieun seems to ponder on what you had just told her. Maybe it doesn't make much sense, or maybe you just came off a little weird. You can't be sure what she is thinking.
But speaking so plainly is a freeing feeling, and telling her feels right. As though the idea that she may judge you is, not unthinkable, but far more remote of a possibility.
"I broke up with someone too. Not long ago,. It wasn't anything as tragic as yours, but, we just didn't have the time to be together." She brushed at a stray hair, caught by the wind.
"I'm sorry." You turn to face her and she meets your eyes for only a moment before she turns to Soonshim who lifts her head and tilts it with the look that only a dog's can express. "She's beautiful," Jieun mutters softly, nodding her head to the sleeping canine, which wagged its tail at the acknowledgement.
"Yeah. She is beautiful." You say, not taking your eyes off of Jieun.
She draws back her gaze, and looks up, with a little confusion, eyes glimmering like gemstones, searching your own as she draws nearer and nearer to you. "Are you talking about Soonshim, or—"
"You."
Lee Jieun steps into the kiss, onto her tiptoes and lifts herself as high as she can to press her soft lips on yours. Your heart seemed to miss a beat, or five, as you leant into it, capturing her lips with your own. You pull your arms around her, in a tight embrace and her heartbeat thunders against you.
And when Jieun pulls her lips away from yours, you lean in again, capturing her lips once more. You cradle the back of her head and guide the kiss, ever so slightly. Just to be closer to her, only a little closer. But enough. When the kiss ends this time, you sigh.
"We shouldn't," Jieun's whisper sounds so vulnerable, her mouth, too lonely for the words. "We should—" kiss again? "go back."
"I'm sorry, I—" Jieun cuts you off with a small kiss, a peck.
"Don't be." She keeps hold of your hand, leading you towards the path and pulling you gently downhill. "We should just get back."
~~~
It's on the porch of the house, where you stood just a couple of hours ago, staring at her, that she says, "Good night." And there's this look in her eye that screams the words 'I want to kiss you again'. Though you both know that this isn't the time or the place.
"Good night," you give her a smile. "Sleep well."
"You too." And then she's gone, Jieun and Soonshim slip in through the back door and you head to the front to get into your room. The emptiness of the room is a strange departure from the warmth of company you've felt all evening. And as you drop onto the bed, sleep does not come quick—it refuses.
Instead, as you toss and turn in the cool, crisp linen, you imagine Jieun's lips meeting your own again, and again. Soft and pliable, sweet and willing, as inviting as can be. Then you argue with yourself that it was an accident, just a product of the moment rather than anything deeper, but... not really. Not when it happens like this, not with her so eager, as eager as you were, in equal measure. And that has a price. The whole night, turning endlessly.
You wonder if she struggles just the same.
The morning rolls around and so does the bad news. There's someone completely unrecognisable helping prepare breakfast, a change that goes unaddressed by your hosts for what seems like the longest time. It's only when they join you at the table that they make the announcement, "Jieun has a concert, back in Seoul, she'll be returning tomorrow evening." Hyori pulls a chair and sits down at the table, pulling a full plate closer to her.
Sangsoon helps himself and settles next to Hyori, asking casually, "Did you and Jieun go for a walk yesterday?"
You pause, trying not to sound like a blushing teenager. "Uh, yes. Yes we did, it's very pretty out there, with some really nice views. Soonshim led us up a hill."
"Didn't see much of you afterwards," Hyori teases, "did we?"
"I was tired after we got back so I just crashed. Tough work walking those hills."
The two hosts glance at each other and chuckle. "Well, Soonshim will be happy, she loves walks. Thanks for looking after her."
You give a small, simple nod. "Of course."
For the next ten minutes, you pick at some of your food but feel so restless the entire time. By the time you stand up from the table, Sangsoon looks a bit surprised. "Somewhere to be?"
"Just want to use the bathroom," you say, with a hasty smile.
There, you stare in the mirror. And it hits you. Hard, right in the stomach, like a heavyweight boxer throwing a right hook, or a hammer kick from a martial artist. A surge of feeling that cuts through you and shatters any façade of composure. Of control. You're flustered. Nervous, even. Like an anxious teen in a school hall during prom.
It's an alien, almost nauseating, feeling, something like vertigo.
~~~
"Can I get you anything else?"
"No, that's everything." Jieun answers, before pulling closed the divider of her first-class pod, shielding herself from the prying eyes of those seated nearby. She places her headphones on and peels into her orange, holding a large section up to the light, before gently placing it in her mouth.
The flight is short to Seoul, but it's a lonely one—without him. She can still feel him though, the kiss that happened at the hilltop. And all the dread that comes with it. Jieun knows full well just how wrong it was, and yet she also knows just how right it felt. Normally, by now, all of her thoughts are on the performance ahead. All her little anxieties arise from the finer details and how she strives to perfect them. Now, though, is the exception.
The ride from the airport to Yonsei is a little different. Though she had to put on her best actress face in the airport, for all the fans and the cameras, but here, alone and safe, she's given the time and the space she needs, but it doesn't bring the relief she expected. Now her thoughts are just swirling, again. Swirling and storming and churning.
Her manager is talking, about this and that, all probably important—but she'll never know.
'It's just going to go down the same road again, another relationship that takes a backseat to my career.'
Jieun groans internally. 'He's such a nice person though.'
"Jieun?"
It catches her off guard. Her heart pounds in her chest, startled, not so much because she was called upon, but the direction it was in. "Huh?"
"So, what do you think?" the manager asks. "Are you even listening? This is what you wanted right?"
Jieun closes her eyes, bringing her index finger up and pinching the bridge of her nose, running her hands down the contours of her face, then forcing a small, tired grin on her lips, she mutters, "Yeah, sorry, I'm listening."
~~~
It's been a strange couple of days. You spent as much of it as you could away from the house. Out in Jeju doing the most random of things to take your mind away from her. Though that's pretty tough when you're walking the street and she's on poster after poster and then you dip into a convenience store only for it to be playing her music.
Coming back for lunch wasn't any better, with Sangsoon and Hyori often teasing or giving the odd hint here and there. You sat down, not able to enjoy the food properly and excused yourself when your appetite gave out on you.
That afternoon, Hyori sat on the porch and invited you to join her—quiet and away from everyone else.
"You must know it's not easy for someone in Jieun's position to do, to go around kissing anyone like that," she starts and she reaches for the drink, pouring it and handing the glass out to you, and you reach for it, staring down at the liquid and watching the ice cubes swim and then sink.
"She told you?"
"In a sense," Hyori laughs softly and pours the other glass, putting the jug aside and taking up her glass. She leans back on one hand against the wooden board and says, "So, what now, what do you intend to do?"
"Uh, about what?"
Hyori offers a smirk and says, "About her."
"I..." What can you really say here, apart from that you just want her, like probably a hundred thousand other men and women have wanted her since they've first laid their eyes on her. Instead, you sip at your glass.
"Nothing wrong with liking her," Hyori says casually, as if the statement itself isn't fraught with consequence.
"Doesn't matter," is what you offer. "I shouldn't, we're from different worlds."
"Mmmm, yes and no," Hyori sips on her drink. "Listen. People like Jieun, like me, the reality we live in isn't the reality we want. Well, it is, but it also isn't. Because we get what we want but never quite get all we want."
You narrow your gaze in confusion. "Sounds like a riddle."
"Think of it like this. When we're on TV or we're on a stage or at a photoshoot or whatever, it's like we're living in the clouds, are you with me?"
"I think so."
"Well being up in the clouds is amazing, you get to do great stuff, fun stuff. But there's always a danger of floating away. So there's the other half of our life, on the ground. It's what keeps us sane. Balanced."
"So you have this double life," you offer as an interpretation.
"It's not that drastic but, yes." Hyori swirls the contents of her glass, taking a quick sip to wet her mouth. "Don't mistake it though, the ground is the more important half, because, in that part, we meet the people who mean the most to us. But, listen to me, when you date someone like Jieun, you're dating that half of her life. The ground. The clouds are for her alone."
"So you have to let her live up in those clouds without you?"
"Did she tell you about her ex?"
"She said they didn't have the time to be together."
Hyori nods. "If she told you that, then you've confirmed it for me. She likes you. But, now you have to think, this past twenty-four hours, there's going to be a lot more of this. Sitting at home while she's performing in front of thousands, living in the clouds. You have to ask yourself, can you handle it? Are you willing to accept it? All the pros and cons."
There's nothing for a few moments, the pair of you sit there silently, before you mutter, "That's kind of hard," and Hyori laughs under her breath as she tilts her head and agrees.
"Yeah. That's why not every relationship survives. Not in this business. But I'm doing you the favour of warning you in advance."
"Thank you."
"Speak of the devil." The sound of a car draws closer until it stops. Some commotion arises and then slowly, she appears. In all her beauty and grace. Hair blowing softly in the breeze, her yellow jumper and skinny jeans hugging her hips perfectly, her beauty as sharp and clear and as immediate as ever. There's no way to take it all in with just one look, especially with the sun low on the horizon behind her. You're mesmerised, to say the least, and even more so as her shy smile reveals itself.
"Evening," Hyori stands, opening her arms for Jieun and wrapping her in a hug, kissing her on the cheek. They exchange some words you can't hear but you watch the movement of the mouths, the way the body moves. Then you turn back to your drink, pretending to watch the dregs swim at the bottom of the glass. You can feel her now, or at least smell the light fragrance, you don't need to turn, as a shadow descends on the side of your head.
"Hi."
"Hey," you say as you draw your eyes slowly up her body. "How was the concert?"
"Good, thank you." Her smile widens.
"You must be tired after all that," you follow, and she nods in agreement and glances to the far end of the veranda.
"And hungry. Will you come inside for dinner with me?" She's smiling now, an infectious, radiant smile, that grows.
"Of course."
You move indoors, you and her at the table. You use the conversation over dinner to ask her about the concert, and her life as a celebrity. From asking her how it feels to be up there singing to hearing stories about some of the craziest fans, the sorts of weird things they do and the lengths they'll go to.
"Some even claim to know me," she laughed, "and try and ask me questions or say certain things and act as though we've known each other for years."
"It sounds surreal," you say and Jieun leans in with a curious look.
"It's been days and you haven't asked about this before now, not at all, so what's got you so interested?" she teases.
"Well, I guess I just wondered what life is like up in the clouds."
Jieun narrows her eyes at you for a moment before chuckling a bit, and leaning in further and muttering, "Hyori. She spoke to you about this didn't she?"
"Just a little, yes. While you were gone."
"I knew it, she likes this little analogy." Jieun folds her arms, rests them on the table and stares right into your eyes, asking "What else did she say...?"
"Not a lot."
"Oh god." Jieun throws herself back against her chair, she brings her hands up to her mouth, with the sleeves of her jumper over her hands and looking like she wants to bury herself into the palms of her hands. "Ugh, that girl. What else did she say?"
"Really, not much else," you answer.
"Right." She sits forward again, not raising her eyes. "Listen, while I was away, I was thinking about what happened."
"And..."
"And," Jieun lets out a huge exhale, the stresses and fears seem to leave along with that breath. "She told you, and you haven't run away. Or at least, not yet. You're still here, we're here. Now. Just sitting, having a chat and eating some noodles."
"The noodles are really nice," you say and Jieun laughs.
"See, you make me laugh, and it makes me all confused, in the best way possible. And I know this isn't the time or place, but—"
"Yes, Jieun."
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
"I'd really love to see where this takes us," you say as you rise from your seat, rounding the table without breaking eye contact. You gently take her hand.
Jieun looks a bit hesitant, stares at the ground and mutters under her breath, "Where does that road end, you know? Look at everything I'm asking, of you, I don't want you to get hurt because I may not be able to give enough."
"I get it Jieun, the ground and the clouds," you whisper as you guide her up from her seat to stand in front of you. "I'll be on the ground. Sometimes you'll be in the clouds."
Jieun collapses her cheek against your shoulder and releases a deep sigh. "Why are you so nice to me?" Jieun sniffles.
"Because you deserve it Jieun."
Her heart thumped so hard, so rapidly, and tears flooded her eyes, making the world wavy and foggy. She fights the tears. And she finds the warmth of you, she pushes her face hard into your chest, inhaling deeply, and feeling an inexhaustible source of strength flow through her, bolstering her. She presses her body into yours.
She reaches her head up and kisses you deeply. Your hands cup her cheeks and your tongues meet for the first time. She leans in, slipping her hands to your neck, and curling her fingers tightly. Her lips are so warm and soft, her whole body melts, and the two of you press against one another. A fire burns and every nerve thrills in anticipation. Her breathing increases as a raging fire churns within.
When the kiss breaks, you murmur against her lips, "Should we, go somewhere that isn't the kitchen?"
Jieun nods, her hands still firmly clutching the collar of your shirt. "The food can wait."
As the door to your room closes, you begin unbuttoning your shirt, the last of them dropping open as she leaps at you, her lips attacking your neck with soft, wet, urgent kisses as she clutches you like her life depends on it. And you have her back, reaching around and holding her, carrying her, stumbling through the dark and onto the bed. You hit the mattress, and your grip relaxes as she leans back and grabs the hem of her sweatshirt. Jieun lifts it, dragging it up her body until the garment is sent to the floor and there it lay, forgotten.
For a moment she seems hesitant, sitting above you. It's a strange mix of tension and passion, the way her fingers trace lines on your chest, and you sit in awe of this beauty above you. The urge to reach for her, to take her, becomes overwhelming, as your gaze trails up her tight, toned stomach, and lingering over her small chest, clothed in black and wrapped snug. You stare and she shivers at the intensity of that look and bites at the corner of her lip.
"This is okay?" Jieun asks softly.
"I'm here for it if you are," you tell her, reaching and cupping her breast in your hand, as though it belonged there. That sends a new chill through her.
"Okay." Jieun nods her head a little. The word shakes a little with a quiver of breath and she lowers her head to meet her lips on yours, softly brushing at first but gradually more insistent. Her tongue prods and finds yours, and she pushes you down by the shoulders, forcing herself to lie on top of you and hold you there. And the kiss seems endless.
You run a hand up the soft skin of her back, up the divot of her spine until your fingers come to her bra strap, and with a small break in the kiss, you murmur against her lips. "Can I?"
She kisses you while she nods. Your fingers search a little, finding the clasp, you tug, letting the bra slip. And, with one small gentle tug on her shoulders, the strap of the bra slips off and it's only her hand rushing up to cover her modesty that keeps it in place.
You wrap your arm around her and roll her over onto her back, and as she lay against the covers, you're over her, looking down at how she still holds her arm over her tits. "I want you to see all of me," she whispers.
"I want to see all of you."
And with that admission, her arm, drops slowly away, pulling the black bra with it and exposing those two perfect, beautifully formed tits. With the lightest, most delicate touch, you brush your thumb across one and feel it spring a little at your touch. The nipples are erect, Jieun leans and looks to the side as you bend down, taking one nipple into your mouth. You flit your tongue across the little pink pebble of flesh and watch Jieun's face.
The muscles around her eyes tighten, and she lets out the sexiest little whimper. The reaction makes you want her more and you begin swirling and caressing her tit with the soft, flat of your tongue, and sucking her nipple into the warm recesses of your mouth.
She cries out and gasps. "God that feels good..." her hands clawing through your hair and her fingernails scraping through. Her moan spurs you onwards as you plant a trail of kisses, switching between which sensitive nub you suck, tug and tease. "Don't stop," she pleads.
"Not when you taste so good."
"I can't believe we're... that you're here, with me."
Your hand finds hers, lacing the fingers into hers you smile, push her hand into the bedsheets and stare up into her glimmering eyes as you run your tongue once more around her nipple. "You're perfect Jieun, I can't believe I'm so lucky."
Jieun arches her back a little, closing her eyes and exhaling a breath. "Stop it, that's not true," she giggles in between whimpers, "stop it, you know it's not— oh g-god..."
You're moving your kisses up over her collarbone and to her neck, and settling your body down between her legs, resting between her thighs. Jieun clamps her legs tightly around you as you keep sucking and biting at her neck, nibbling ever so lightly on her ear. "And now," you whisper huskily, into her ear, "I have you pinned beneath me..."
"Oh, fuck, yes," Jieun squirms. She desperately pushes your shirt off your shoulders and then runs her hands over your body. "I like this feeling." She's pushing her hands between your stomachs, pulling open your jeans and pushing them down off your ass.
You return the favour, bringing her into a kiss and reaching to pull her tight jeans open. She lifts her hips to aid you, allowing you to slip them off her hips. You don't have a chance to pull them all the way off, too heavy in your kiss and grinding yourself between her legs.
You reach and pull at her and she breaks the kiss with a soft moan as she grabs your shoulder and shifts her hips. The movements press you into her a little more, and her head goes to the pillows behind her head, tilting back. The angle reveals the beautiful soft and slender curve of her neck and you go at it again, kissing and biting, nibbling and licking, running the tip of your tongue over the hot, smooth expanse and smiling as she wraps her arms and legs around you as tightly as her lips when you kissed her.
"I want you," she gasps. "I want you. Now."
You put an arm under her and pull her up until you're on your knees and she's straddling you. She reaches down, hands into your pants and takes your thick cock in her fist. That first touch. Her soft fingers are on your hardness. It's a rush that hits both of you and suddenly you're kissing again as Jieun awkwardly strokes your length, trying to tease you out.
You decide to make it easier and sit her on the bed, still kissing her intermittently as you stand and push your clothes to your ankles. Standing before Jieun, the most desirable woman you've ever been fortunate enough to touch, you suddenly feel a primal sense of arousal hit.
You lay her back again, and peel those jeans off her slender legs. Slowly down her thighs as they spill out of the denim, then all the way off, until she's in nothing but a pair of black panties, and you're stood over her, naked to the air. Jieun sits up to you and brushes your chest, feeling the shape of the muscles and kneeling back on her haunches, you take her mouth again, sliding your hands up her hips and feeling those supple breasts once more. "Jieun, you're so hot."
Jieun bites your lip, and throws her leg around you, drawing you down and gasps sharply as you find your cock grazing across the smooth expanse of her panties and press at her entrance, almost bursting with desire. Jieun pulls at your hips, urging you between them. She grunts with effort, biting at your neck. "You're everything I have ever wanted."
There's a pause that's filled only by your shared, short panting. This is where it happens. It's more than want and need. The quiet acknowledgement, the long silence, you stare into Jieun's eyes, and both of you nod your heads a fraction, agreeing without speaking a word. You push her panties to the side. Then the contact, the softness and the wetness of her opening as the tip of your cock pushes her apart.
"Oh, shit!" Jieun lets out the involuntary profanity as she claws at your back and moans into the crook of your neck.
It's amazing. Unbelievably, spectacularly, amazing. Her tightness stretches with only minimal effort, and you let out a strained breath.
"Oh my god," Jieun has her fingers clasping tightly to your shoulder and mouth open with pleasure. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she writhes under you. "You feel amazing... holy shit," she curses.
"Jesus Jieun," you grunt as you sink down just that extra inch, enveloping your full length inside her. "You feel perfect, I could stay here forever."
Jieun does the best she can with that compliment, grinning through clenched teeth. "Thank you. I'm—" She cuts her own sentence short by gasping and reaching higher and taking a handful of your hair in her palm, her nails digging into your skull. "Do it." She orders you and the tone is coated in lust. "Please."
And so you do. Pull out to the sound of her sharp expectant inhale, and back in as she moans her lungs empty, the noises making it impossible to remain idle. Soon enough you have a rhythm of slow, measured thrusts, and are gasping in tune to her beautiful mews.
"God, you feel so damn good," Jieun manages, and she follows by adding, "A little harder, I love it."
It's like that for a few minutes. Jieun's pleasure is palpable with every movement of the bed springs and groans. Though it can't be any louder than the voice in your mind. This is actually happening. Fucking IU, of all people, is on her back beneath you, her beautiful body reacting to your every movement. She reaches for her breasts, rubbing them and pinching at the hardened points and begging, "More, please more," and you give.
Jieun brings her leg higher, arching her back and urging you further into her pussy, driving herself into you with equal force. This time her cry is louder, less controlled and broken by the beat of your bodies against each other, the sound of sex becoming a background harmony. Her feet stretch out behind you, her heels dig at the small of your back and her head falls back on the bed.
"I don't know how... how long I can..." Jieun breathes out. Her leg suddenly jerks and her entire body tenses. "Oh, shit."
You know what's coming, that doesn't make the feeling of her tightening around you any less shocking. She's shivering, gasping for breath and squeezing her eyes tightly, her body growing taut like a string pulled between fists.
"Fuck, Jieun, are you gonna—"
"Yes. Yes." Her entire body convulses. Her fingernails ripping lines up your back, Jieun arches from the bed, a sharp keening whimper from between her lips, followed by a series of high-pitched, short cries.
You're falling into the sheets beside her and pulling her on top of you. Seamlessly you move together, and she's riding you now, throwing her head back. You're lying there and she's a sight to behold. Her petite frame rolls and her toned, lithe muscles shift beneath her smooth skin. Every motion carries her hips as she fucks you.
Her breasts rise and fall, her hands flatten themselves on your chest as she holds herself up, bouncing herself on your cock with insistent determination. Jieun slides her palms upward, bringing them to your shoulders and lowering her chest, you reach to cup her tits, squeezing firmly and a sparkle glimmers in her eyes.
"You're so hard," Jieun purrs.
"You look so good on me, feel it too."
A smile flashes across her lips and the muscles clench,. You drag your hands across the perfect curves, feeling her sides, her ass, sliding back to take two, firm handfuls, pulling her into every movement. Your arms and legs beginning to tingle with your release, and you're losing all feeling other than her silken embrace.
Then you see her grimace and twist her body, breaking again for you. She falls against you and grinds out her orgasm. She quivers over you like a leaf in the wind. You hold her hips steady and stroke her skin as she returns from her high.
"Sorry," she moans a drawn-out apology. "Wanted you to cum, but, I can't..."
You hold her, rising from the bed, "Don't worry, Jieun, I've got this." You lift her and place her onto her side, thighs together, knees together, you push them up to meet her chest. Her perfect ass and thighs are on show, begging for you to slip back inside. She twists her body to watch you lean over her and push her knees into the bed.
You thrust into her, slipping under that one ass cheek, past those moist panties and into her pussy again. Jieun moans aloud again, and the sight of your cock slipping into her, the feel, is mesmerising. Jieun squeals a note.
The feeling, after only a few short thrusts, builds rapidly. And while a part of you wishes to hold back for her, make her cum over and over, she's far too sexy to deny yourself your sole need. Jieun moans and clenches again then cries out, "Please!" Her eyes watching you drive in deeper. And you lose it. The pressure breaks within, you bask in the sights, sounds, and feelings, and let it overwhelm you. "Inside, it's safe."
You spasm and with a deep thrust into her, your cum pours. Thick. Heavy, plentiful spurts as you cling to her trembling body. A final, ragged cry slips past your lips. Energy drained from you, into her, and you near-collapse against her sweat-kissed body.
You slip out of her, collapsing behind her and spooning her trembling body close, you drop kisses across the soft surface of her bare shoulder and take a tight grip on her small, perky tits. She whispers, "That was amazing."
"Tell me about it. The best."
She rolls her head and glances at you. "No, I mean, really, thank you. You were..." she sighs dreamily. "I didn't think it was possible to feel like that."
"We fit well, Jieun," you tell her softly. "There's no need to ever thank me. You really are special."
"Saying things like that," she sobs lightly. "You better be careful or you're going to mean a lot to me."
Your breathing seems loud in the sudden quiet, and you say, "I'd like that Jieun, to matter to you. Being important to you. It'd make me happy."
She is silent for a long moment, staring straight ahead. A single, happy tear rolls from her eye, onto the bed, and then sleep takes over. It is like a force sweeping you into the deepest darkness. It seems to happen between one breath and the next. One moment you're lying next to the most beautiful woman in the world, in the most euphoric, blissful post-coital state. In the next, your eyes blink open, and you're sprawled on your back, alone in the bed.
Her perfume hangs faintly in the air. Like a half-forgotten dream. An unintelligible whisper in the corner of your ear. "Goodnight," she had murmured at some point, in that instant between slumber and consciousness. But as your eyes scan around, her absence, her presence, seems like a dream. Like a mirage. As if she's always been this transient figure in your life. You fall into the pillow.
Then, just as sleep begins its second embrace, there's a knock at the door. There's a pause before a quiet voice speaks, "You awake?"
You sit up in a rush. "Come in," you reply, and Hyori enters.
She cuts right to the chase, as seems to be her way. "Last night, did you two? Wait, don't answer. I can feel it. You did."
"We did."
She walks closes the door firmly behind her, ensuring privacy. "I knew it as soon as she started acting shy this morning. I swear sex is the only thing that makes her shy. Funny little mannerism." Hyori takes a deep breath. "But listen, and listen close, okay?"
You nod for her to go ahead, but instead of going on, she sits down, gathering her thoughts.
She looks at you for a long time and says, "If this, whatever this is, is going to continue, you need to be prepared. It's going to be a mess. You need to hide it, and I mean really hide it, from everyone. Think how nuts the press will go."
You open your mouth to talk but she raises a finger.
"Hear me out. You have to remember that. This can't be normal, it will probably never be normal. That girl is special and this whole country knows it. There will always be cameras. And there will be times when you miss her because she's away. Sometimes for days or weeks and it's not the end of the world, because she has her job, and her fans depend on it. And as I'm sure you saw at dinner the other night, she does too, she loves her career."
Hyori sighs and rubs her forehead. "I know this seems a lot. You have known each other barely a week and I'm piling this onto you, but you need to know what you're getting into."
You smile. "I get it."
"You don't. Trust me. Not until you've lived it. Look, Jieun's an amazing girl. I like you, she likes you, a lot. I think you can make this work." She takes a big breath and says, "Welcome to this weird fucking world."
You chuckle quietly and nod in thanks.
"Now, if you're wondering where she has gone, she's out picking some flowers for the side dishes for later. They're recording something for the show right now but you can go out and join her in ten minutes, if you like?"
"That'd be great."
Hyori leaves and true to her word, when you venture downstairs and out onto the garden. Jieun's knelt along the rows. Her hair blows in a gentle breeze, and with the flowerbeds just in front, she is a blessed sight for tired eyes.
You go to her and ask, "Working hard?"
"Hey, you woke up," she beams at you.
"Had a chat with Hyori, too."
"Was it alright?" Jieun's face turns pale and worried, and her voice drops to a whisper. "She didn't try to get in your head, right?"
"It was fine, Jieun, she did give me the talk, though. A warning and a blessing, I think."
"Any regrets?" Jieun asks, timidly.
"What? No. God no. None at all. Actually, the only thought I had was if you would like to eat alone tonight? Just you and me, and then maybe we can go on another walk together, I enjoyed that."
"I'd love that," she says, her voice shaky, before a warm smile grows on her face.
"So, can I help you with the flowers?"
722 notes · View notes
lovelookspretty · 2 days
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly
one | two | three
authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3
Tumblr media
your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.
“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.
“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”
leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”
your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.
“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.
“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”
“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”
she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”
your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”
“fish?”
“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”
you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.
just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”
“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”
“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”
you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.
because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.
you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.
even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?
“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”
“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.
Tumblr media
your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.
you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.
his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”
“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”
“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.
you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.
“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”
you shake your head, “nothing.”
drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?
you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”
there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.
you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”
“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”
you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”
drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.
you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”
drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”
“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”
“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”
you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .
“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”
you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”
“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”
you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”
“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”
you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”
drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”
you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”
he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”
you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”
“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”
you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”
there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”
“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.
the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.
two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .
right?
490 notes · View notes
a-lexia11 · 1 day
Text
Womanizer (Part 1)
Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader
Word count: Around 14k
Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.
Based on this request
Part 2
Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.
You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.
It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.
He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.
When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.
Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.
He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.
Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.
Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.
Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.
So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.
Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.
“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.
It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”
At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.
But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.
The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.
You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.
——
One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.
Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.
Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.
But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.
Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.
You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.
Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.
She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.
It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.
Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.
She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. “¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)
Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)
“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)
“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)
��Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)
“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)
Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)
“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)
Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)
The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.
Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.
It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.
After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.
She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)
You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.
“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)
She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)
You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.
You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.
Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.
“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.
You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.
But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.
You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”
You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.
Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.
You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.
As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.
You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.
Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.
As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.
Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”
“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.
Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.
——
“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.
“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.
“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.
You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.
“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.
“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)
María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.
“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.
Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.
“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.
After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.
Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.
When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.
“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.
“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”
“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.
Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.
“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.
“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”
“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.
As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.
Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.
——
“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.
Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.
You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.
“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”
“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.
Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.
“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)
“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.
Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)
You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.
“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.
She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.
You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”
“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)
“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.
You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.
“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.
You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”
Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)
You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”
Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”
You decided to ignore her comment.
“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.
“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)
You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.
“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.
Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.
“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”
Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.
Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.
You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.
Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.
She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.
For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.
“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.
You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.
Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.
You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.
Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.
“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.
Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)
“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.
Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.
She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.
You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.
——
The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.
As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.
You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.
You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.
While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)
You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.
“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.
“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)
You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.
Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)
Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.
As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.
“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)
With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.
She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.
She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.
As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.
Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.
The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.
The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.
With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.
As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.
With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.
She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.
Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.
You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.
“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)
“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)
You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.
“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)
“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)
“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)
Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.
Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.
“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.
——
“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.
“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.
“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.
“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.
“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.
“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.
You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.
——
“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.
She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.
You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.
Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.
After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.
“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.
“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.
“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.
She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.
Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.
“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)
The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.
Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.
You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.
Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.
You once again cringed at the sight.
Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.
“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.
“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”
“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.
“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.
“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.
“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.
“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”
You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”
You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”
Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.
“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)
As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.
The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.
You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.
Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.
Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.
You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.
——
For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.
You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.
Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.
“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.
You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”
“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.
You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.
“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.
At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.
“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.
“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.
“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”
Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”
You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.
Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”
You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”
“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”
You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”
“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”
You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”
Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”
You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”
Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”
She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”
You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.
——
Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.
You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.
She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.
The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.
The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.
You had driven her away. That much was clear.
You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.
Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.
She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.
Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.
“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.
She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.
“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.
You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. “Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.
“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.
Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.
Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.
“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.
You raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”
But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.
“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.
“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.
You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.
Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.
You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.
Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”
You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.
She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)
You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”
The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.
For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.
Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.
You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.
“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)
Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.
When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)
Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)
Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.
You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”
Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.
For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.
That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.
——
From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.
But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.
You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.
If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.
Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.
One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.
At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.
Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.
The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.
You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.
You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.
“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.
You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.
Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.
Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.
Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.
“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.
Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.
From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.
You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.
Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.
“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)
“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)
You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.
The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)
Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.
“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.
You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.
“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.
“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.
Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.
“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.
Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.
She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.
Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.
——
“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.
“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.
Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.
As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.
Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.
She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.
“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.
“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.
She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.
“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.
“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.
“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)
Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.
Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”
Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.
“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.
“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.
But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)
You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.
Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.
“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”
You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.
But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.
“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.
She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”
She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”
There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.
Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”
“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”
Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.
“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”
Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”
You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.
“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”
Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.
“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”
Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.
But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.
She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.
——
“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.
“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.
Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.
She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.
Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.
Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.
Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”
You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.
Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.
She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.
“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”
You made a face of disgust.
She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)
“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.
“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.
With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”
You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.
“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.
“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)
You shook your head, amused.
“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.
You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.
Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.
You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.
While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.
Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.
“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.
You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.
Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.
——
“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.
“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.
The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.
As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.
Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.
“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.
Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.
Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)
You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”
Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.
Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”
“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)
Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.
“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.
She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.
A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.
“Mommy!”
You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…
When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.
“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.
Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.
It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)
You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.
Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.
Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.
“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.
Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.
Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.
You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.
Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.
“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.
Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.
“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.
“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.
Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”
Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)
Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.
“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.
“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.
Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”
Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.
Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.
You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.
Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”
You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”
Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.
“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.
The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.
Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”
Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.
You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.
“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.
Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.
“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.
Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”
You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.
Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.
Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”
Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.
“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.
Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.
Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.
You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.
As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.
She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.
You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.
As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.
And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.
——
The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.
When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.
As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.
Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.
You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.
Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.
Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”
Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.
You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.
“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.
As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.
“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.
You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.
“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)
“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.
Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.
You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.
“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.
“Yes,” you replied, nodding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.
You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.
“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.
You didn’t respond, so she continued.
“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.
You stared down at your coffee and nodded.
“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.
Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.
“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.
You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.
“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.
“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.
“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.
Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.
“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.
You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.
“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.
“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.
“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.
Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.
“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.
“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.
Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.
“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.
Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.
You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.
“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.
“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.
“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.
Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.
“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.
Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.
You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.
Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.
As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”
Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.
The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.
The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.
“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.
Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.
Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.
Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.
“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.
“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.
“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.
“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.
Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.
After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.
“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”
You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”
Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.
You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”
You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.
Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”
You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.
She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.
“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.
There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.
“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.
You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.
“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”
Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.
You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.
Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.
You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.
As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.
You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.
Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.
“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.
You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.
The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.
Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.
“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.
Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”
Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.
You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.
You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”
And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.
You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.
Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.
She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.
The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.
That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.
She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.
But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.
——
“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.
After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.
During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.
But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.
“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.
“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.
“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.
“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.
“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.
“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.
As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.
Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.
As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.
“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”
Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.
“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.
“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)
“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.
“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.
“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.
“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.
“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)
“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.
“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.
“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)
“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.
“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.
You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.
“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)
“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.
“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)
“Bye, Alexia,” you said.
“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.
457 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 20 hours
Text
Simple Math / Part Seventeen
Simple Math masterlist
Tumblr media
Ghost/Soap/female reader - AO3 - 4K words Tags: 18+ mdni. nurse!reader. PTSD, references and descriptions of domestic violence , grooming, manipulation, pregnancy. Simon's back story. Trauma. Bun opens up a bit more. Domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt. Simon is a nervous dad. Emotional confessions.
“It’s Beth.” Simon wipes the countertop, chasing little dirty fingerprints with a wet cloth, before fixing a hesitant set of eyes on yours.
“That’s pretty… I like it.” There’s something odd about his expression, something haunted almost, a deep, dark well filled to the brim with rancid, stagnant water. You sense it immediately. “What’s wrong?”
He motions to the chair and slides your mug into your waiting hands. “Sit.”
“Simon?”
“It was my sister in law’s name. My brother’s wife.” Was. Your throat goes dry, muscles tensing.
“Was?” He pulls your fingers into his, cradled in the palm of his hand, thumb rubbing circles into your skin, over and over on a loop. A mechanism of comfort, connection. A thread stitch into the fabric between your heart and his.
“They died, sweetheart. My family… I lost them.” Grief, a shared experience you know now, froths in the pit of your heart. You tremble, he holds you steady, though it should be the other way around.
“What… what happened?” He sighs, dragging your palm to his lips.
“Let’s sit down on the couch.”
He holds you as he talks, diaphragm rumbling against your ear. You’re laid on his chest, unable to see his face, watch his expressions, but for this, you don’t feel the urge to dissect each one.
You’re content against him. Listening. Mourning.
There’s a swath of silence afterwards, and then he clears his throat. “So, I was dead. Dead until I met Johnny, I think. And then everything changed.” Johnny’s words from weeks and weeks ago make more sense, Simon’s actions and reactions rapidly gaining clarity. “When we found you, I saw it, the look in your eyes. It was the same one that used to haunt my mother’s.”
“You saved her.” He burrows his face in your neck and shakes his head.
“I did what I could to piece them back together. Helped get Tommy clean and on his feet, got rid of the old man for good, but the damage… the way she suffered, it was irreversible. The best I could do was be there as much as often as possible.” You comb through his hair, short strands of silk like Penny’s, and hold him close. “I promised myself, when I met Johnny, when we fell in love, I’d do better by my own family. For him, and then by Penny. And now you. Promised I wouldn’t become him.” Your heart clenches, squeezing in on itself. “Violence may have been a part of my job, but it wasn’t a part of me.” His fingers dance along your spine until they reach your chin, tilting you back to meet his gaze. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” You whisper, leaning into his touch. He doesn’t need to ask for your trust, he already has it.
“Johnny thinks I’ve got a bit of a savior complex now, but I want you to know… that’s not what this is, bunny.”
“I know,” you clear your throat, fighting through the thick of emotion building there, accumulating in heaps, “I know that.”  
“But we do need to talk about him, you know that?” Darkness creeps along the wispy, dream-like cocoon the two of you built on the couch, and you push it away, try to banish it, basking in the comfort of his arms instead.
“I can’t, I… right now it feels like I’m in a dream where nothing hurts and nothing can scare me or hurt me, and I don’t-“
“You’re not in a dream, bunny. That’s your reality. This is real. Nothing can, or will, hurt you, scare you. No one will ever touch you again.”
“I need more time. Please.” Simon sighs, but doesn’t push, and the two of you lay there, together, suspended in comforting silence. For another moment, your world is a dream. A safe, beautiful dream, where happy endings are real, where love stretches on for eternity, unconditional, limitless, unbreakable.
You’re so different now, stark changes shocking to the girl you once knew, the one who doubled back on her routes to and from work, the one that walked everywhere with her hackles up. Little pieces of black rot now turned a blinding white, a brilliant beam seeking to shine on the whole of your life.
It’s a dream.
One you won’t easily surrender.
“I was really young.” It comes during a lapse in conversation, practically a blurt, an interruption pushing heat to your cheeks. Expelled from your mind, your body without choice, cracks appearing in the preservation that you’ve so defiantly clung to. You have to tell them, eventually. You have to break it all apart, let them see. Johnny’s mouth opens, and Simon’s hand darts to his wrist faster than a snake could strike, a clear signal. Don’t speak. “Obviously now, looking back on it, I realize I was groomed, or I guess, easily influenced. He was older, and I graduated early, started college early. I was in my second year when I turned eighteen. My mom,” the lump in your throat nearly chokes you until you swallow it down, “my mom busted her ass for me. I went to college on scholarships and her hard work.” Metal clanks against ceramic, forks settling on the edges of plates. “Anyway, everyone always thought I was a know-it-all and pretty awkward. We weren’t officially like, together right away but it was pretty serious from the day I met him. Eventually… he started to change me. Change my goals. He even manipulated my career path.”
“What did you go to school for?” Simon asks casually, head tilted.
“Bioscience. I wanted to be a doctor, so I thought it would transition well for med school. Thought I could become a surgeon.” You were a girl then; you know that now. Naïve, misguided by a hand that sought to control you, not love you as you hoped. It’s embarrassing, baring this, showing these broken bits and pieces to them, shattered shards of a mirror never glued back together.
“What happened?”
“He did.” Johnny squeezes your hand. “Made it to pre-med but ended up leaving and starting a nursing program instead. It’s what he wanted, and by then, I couldn’t say no.”
“But ye didnae want it, to be a nurse.”
“No. I didn’t. I love my job now, of course, and I’m happy in it, but originally, I wanted something else. He tricked me, in all honesty. Showed me something that wasn’t real, reeled me in, and then revealed his true colors.” You shudder. “The first time… the first time it happened, I shook it off, forgave him. I-“ the memory is still so strong, it stuns you. The blood from your busted lip is fresh on your tongue, sting on the side of your face turning to a blooming ache.
“Bunny?” Johnny’s grip moves to your elbow, strong, but not too tight. An anchor. You shake your head.
“Sorry.”
“Ye’re alright, ye can stop if-“
“No, I… I want to share these things with you. It feels like I’m supposed to, like you should know me… like this.”
“We already know you, sweetheart. Don’t push yourself.” Simon’s tone is serious, and you nod.
“It’s embarrassing, looking back on it and realizing how bad it was, how bad I let it get. How I let him cut me off from everyone, change my career, squash me like a bug.” You laugh, but it’s empty.
“Ye did nothin’ wrong,” Johnny’s lips press together, muscles in his jaw straining, “was never yer fault.” You don’t answer, just trace the woodgrain of the table, texture moving beneath your fingers. The conversation is draining you, leeching light away like a horizon swallowing the last of the sun.
“He’s rich. Like, fuck you money rich. Rich like make problems go away rich, and his job…” your head shakes again. It’s the most you’ve ever said, heavy buried secrets finally dug up, resurrected, the truth trembles through your bones. “He has resources. Has chased me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”
“I know you’ve said you’re not really sure, but did he ever tell you what his job entails?”
“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.” Johnny shifts in his seat, antsy, and you shrug. “He kept that part of his life very, very private. There was even a room in the house that was always locked.” Your head is heavy, lead upon your shoulders, and Johnny tucks his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.
“I know this is hard bun, but ye’re so brave for us. Lettin’ us know ye this way. I’m proud of ye.” He murmurs, lips to your forehead, and you fully relax, wrapping around his middle.
“I’m tired.” You whisper, eyes closing, and he rubs your back.
“Let’s get ye to bed then.”
“Your child is too big for me to carry!” You announce, hand on your hip, little backpack straps looped around your arm. Simon closes the door behind you, chuckling, and Penny plops onto the floor. She goes to a nursery day program now a few days a week, something that was a contentious subject in the house for far too long, opinions and arguments ping ponging over your head until the decision was finally made.
“It’s not safe.”
“Ye cannae keep ‘er locked up here forever, love.”
“Why not?” Simon bounced Penny against his chest, unimpressed look on both their faces, so alike you almost busted out laughing.
“Because she’s a child. She needs to be w’other children, not just us.” Johnny brings his free hand to his lips, squeezing Simon’s wrist. “I know ye’re scared.” Simon’s not the only one who’s scared, you thought. Phillip lurked at the edge of your mind, worry that he might find Penny plagued you, even though they both assured that wasn’t their main concern.
“She’s too little.”
“Simon. We agreed on this,” Johnny gives him a sharp look, “do yer research, find the best one. Ye know this needs to happen, for her. She needs to make friends, learn how to interact with kids her own age. Ye know this.”
“Fine.”
“She cannae be, not m’wee lamb.”
“She is.” You rub your shoulder. “Sheesh.” Penny’s stomach gurgles at your feet, and Simon grimaces.
“There’s a bug goin’ around the kids, teacher told me today.”
“Not surprising. Nurseries are little petri dishes.” You straighten your back, rolling your shoulder, and wince.
“Hurts?” Simon’s thumb digs into the soft spot there, and your lashes flutter.
“Maybe ye need a hot bath,” Johnny suggests, and Simon ushers the two of you up the stairs.
“I’ve got Pen. Go relax.”
“This is nice.” Johnny soaps your back, lavender and vanilla steam swirling around in the bathroom as you lean against him, his chest to your back.
“Aye.” The cloth drags across your chest, teasing your nipples, and you revel in his touch, soaking in every second he gives you, the brush of his cheek against yours, his lips on your neck. “Like havin’ ye all to myself sometimes.” You blink.
“Does it bother you? When we’re not all together?”
“No. Ye have a relationship wit’ me, and wit’ Simon, and we have a relationship all together. No one is the same. I like it.”
“Me too.” You settle again, loose and tender in the bath, soaped hands running up and down your back, kneading your shoulders, releasing the tension coiled in your bones. You groan.
“Feel good then?”
“Yeah.” He presses a hand over your heart with a deep breath, before he takes another.
And then one more.
“What’s wro-“
“I love ye bun. Wholly. Think ‘ve loved ye since the day I opened my eyes to ye leaning over the bed in hospital.” You turn, twisting to face him, and he dabs your nose with his thumb. “I dinnae have any expectations of ye, or yer feelings, but I had to be honest. I had to tell ye.” The confession fights its way forward, begging to be let out, to be freed.
Tell him. Tell him the truth. Tell him you love them, that they’re your light, that they’ve chased the darkness away and replaced it with the sun.
You can’t.
Instead, you rest your forehead against his, syncing your breathing, sharing the moment, holding onto him so tight in case he slips away.
“I can’t say it.” You whisper, and he nods. “But that doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean it’s not there. I’m just… I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“An’ that’s okay. I’ll wait, I’ll wait for ye as long as ye need.” There’s no pressure, no demands, just Johnny and his arms, his understanding and patience, his love.
You blink back tears and crash your lips to his. “Thank you.”
Your stomach is what wakes you.  
Something it in is burning, tossing bile around, the sensation strong enough your lips curl, and you try to draw a deep breath through your nose.
You wriggle, trying to pull free from where you’re tangled up in Simon and Johnny, carefully and slow, hoping to avoid waking them though you know even in their dreams, they sleep with one eye open.
 Still, you manage to make it to the bathroom before feet are padding across the carpet on your heels.
You sink to your knees in front of the toilet, stomach bubbling, sending the scorching remnants of dinner up your throat.
The door clicks open. “No, get out. I don’t want you to see-“ you gag again, tap turning on at the sink, a cold washcloth folding over your neck.
“Shhh,” Simon murmurs, rubbing your back, “get it all out.”
“Oh god,” another wave swells, and your muscles tense, body expelling bits of bile and not much else.
“That’s the way, good girl.”
“This is gross.” You gasp. “You should go back to bed.”
“I’ve seen way worse than you puking, sweetheart.”
“She alright?” Johnny half yells from the bedroom and you groan. The guilt of him having to maneuver himself out of bed, still not one hundred percent healthy, still not back to full strength, draws a shiver from your spine.
“I’m fine, don’t come in here!” Your stomach pitches, fingers tightening against your thighs, but nothing comes up, again and again, until everything settles and you’re breathing deeply, steady, back straight.
“Let’s get you some water.” There’s no point in arguing with him. He’s going to do what he wants to do when it comes to taking care of you, you know that now. It’s painfully clear as he tries to help you drink from the glass, and then puts toothpaste on your toothbrush.
“I’m fine.” You assure weakly, but he only watches you, concerned.
“Think it’s the nursery bug?”
“Probably.” You sag, energy drained completely, and he steadies you, cupping your cheek. His touch is cool, and you lean into it, savoring the reprieve it brings against your throbbing temples.
“Want to go back to bed?”
“What if I throw up again?” He presses a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll jus’ clean it up.”
“Can I ask you a question?” You glance up at the timid mouse of a nurse, brand new, fingers clutched around a tablet like she’s drowning and it’s her life vest.
“What’s up?”
“Can you… can you look at these orders for me?” She looks terrified, and it tells you everything you need to know. She’s probably caught a mistake.
Baby nurses begin their careers in a delicate position. They’re overwhelmed, fresh off a whirlwind of orientation, overloaded with policy and procedure, and depending on their preceptor, either somewhat prepared or completely lost. Pitting a baby nurse against a provider, even a first-year resident, is like sending a lamb in to confront a lion. The result is usually tears.
She hands you the tablet and you spot it immediately. Incorrect dosage.
“Good catch.” You reassure, coaxing a small smile, and she nods.
“What do I do?”
“We go find the provider and clarify the dosage.” You’re not going to leave it up to her, alone, hang her out to dry and probably get run over by whatever moron ordered it in the first place, who happens to be-
Marshall.
Your eyes couldn’t roll any harder. “The pharmacy is also very on top of seeing errors like this, but it’s good you’ve noticed too, for the patient and yourself. Liability for things like this can be very tricky.” She nods again, trailing behind you, brand new squeaky sneakers echoing your own steps.
You can’t stop the sigh that escapes you when you find him, leaned up against a wall, arms crossed, smirking, cocking his head at your companion. “What’s up?”
“Can you take a look at this for me?” You purposefully zoom in on the meds tab, practically painting a bullseye around his error. He scoffs, defensive immediately, dismissive, before he takes a closer look, jaw clenched.
“That’s my mistake.” You blink. Marshall rarely ever takes responsibility so gracefully. Your eyebrow lifts.
“Care to fix it?”
“Of course.” His agreement is punctuated with a smile, though it’s off kilter.
“You can go,” you nod to the nurse, “good job.” Her eyes dart between you and Marshall, and without another word, scampers off.
“She’s new?” His usual interest in new nurses is less enthusiastic than ever.
You hate Marshall. He’s a scumbag. But he’s also been your coworker since day one, and you can’t help yourself. “What’s up with you?”  
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve never owned up to a mistake that quickly, and you didn’t even make some smart-ass remark. Or berate her. Or give me an attitude.” He winces.
“It’s nothing.” But it doesn’t seem like nothing. It seems like something is wrong, like he’s sad, or depressed, and try as you might, your bleeding heart can’t walk away.
“What’s wrong.” You phrase a statement, a demand, instead of a question, and he blows a frustrated breath.
“It’s… I’m seeing someone.” Your eyes go wide.
“Who?” Please don’t say a nurse, please don’t say a nurse, please-
“Anna. From radiology.”
“Oh my god. The cupcake girl?” Anna was a fan favorite. Not only was she kind, but she was also quick with her reads, and baked cupcakes for the entire floor almost once a month. As far as radiologists go, she was better than most.
“Yeah.”
“Okay…”
“I really like her but… she’s always been aware of my reputation and is trying to take it slow. Too slow.” You could lecture him with a million reasons why she’s in the right, but it doesn’t seem like he’s got the resolve to handle it.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s dragging her feet. Doesn’t want to hang out more than once a week, rarely stays the night. I’ve been to her place a handful of times, but that’s it.”
“How long has it been?”
“Two months.” You laugh.
“That’s it?”
“It’s a long time for me!” You hold your hands up in surrender.
“Okay, okay, but seriously. Two months is no time at all. Have you discussed the… reluctance with her?” He seems uneasy, and for the first time, you’re not sure if you enjoy watching him squirm.
“Yeah. She says she’s happy, but isn’t trying to jump into anything,” his air quotes carry a whiff of the condescending asshole you know too well. This conversation couldn’t be timelier, and you think back to what you told Johnny the other night.
“Just because she’s taking it slow doesn’t mean her feelings for you aren’t there. You have to respect that. If she’s still putting up with you after two months, I’d bet she’s just being cautious. Getting hurt sucks.” He nods thoughtfully. “Give her the time she’s asking for, and don’t give up.”
Don’t give up.
The sentiment twists a knife lodged deep in your heart. Is that what will happen to you? Will they give up? Get tired of waiting for you to spill all your secrets, get tired of waiting for you to take the final step? To tell them you love them?
Get tired of waiting for you to let them use your real name?
“I didn’t expect her, didn’t expect to feel this way.” The mask comes down, revealing a hopelessly lovesick heart, the depth of it shining in his eyes.
“I don’t think anyone ever does expect it. That’s the surprising thing about love, I guess.” You sway, a palm pressed to the wall as your hand flattens over your stomach.
“You alright?” Marshall’s voice is far away as you breathe through your nose, trying to fend off the nausea tightening your throat.
“Sorry, I’ve been a bit under the weather. Think I’ve got a bug or something.” Your stomach roils in warning, and you barely grit out an apology before dashing away.
Just in time to toss your breakfast up in the toilet.
“I’m fine.”
“I heard you in the toilet. You didn’t sound fine, and you shouldn’t be working if you’re sick.” Your manager shakes her head like she’s disappointed, and you glare. You both know if you had called this morning talking about a stomach bug, she would have told you to suck it up unless you were actively vomiting.
“Look around. Do you see an excess of nurses on the floor?”
“We’ll manage. Or call someone in.” You shake your head.
“We’re already way past policy ratios.” You bite your tongue when safe nearly slips out, not wanting to piss her off. That’s the union’s job.
“At least go sit down or something. Take a break. Come back in twenty minutes and let me know how you feel.”
Your closet is cozy, and for once during the day, unoccupied. The nausea has subsided, for now, and you shoot a text to the guys, asking about Penny. If you feel like this, you can’t imagine how she feels.
You curl up and imagine you’re home instead, maybe in bed with a sleeve of crackers and some soda, warm chest at your back, a hand stroking over your hip. Maybe you’d have some soup, maybe the three of you would watch a movie after Pen went down for bed. You start to drift in the domestic fantasy, sleeping curling itself like a blanket over your shoulders, until you’re startled by the vibration of your phone, foot kicking forward in a jolt against a shelf.
A box falls to the floor.
HCG strips.
You stare at it for a long time, numbers and dates and weeks mashing together, calculations getting lost in the fray.
You’re not…
No.
Ridiculous. Not even possible. You’re on the pill. Religiously.
You have the nursery bug that Pen brought home. Get a grip.
Still…
You use the fifth-floor bathroom, one of the only single occupant toilets in the whole damn hospital, nausea now coming from a completely different source.
The timer on your phone is incredibly slow, or maybe it’s just time itself, the world turning in slow motion, every second elongated into turbulent silence, too many thoughts, too many feelings, too much of everything to tell where one ends and the other begins.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Panic.
Sadness.
Grief.
It’s grief that is the strongest. Grief for something that Phillip stole, mourning for something that was once so close, so real, and then gone in an instant.
If you close your eyes, you can still feel his boot in your stomach. The press of a steel toe, jammed beneath your ribs, wild, deranged eyes staring down at you in a rage.
But-
Buried so, so far beneath the crushing weight of it all, there is a bright little pocket of sunshine. A small little sliver of light, beams of hope stretching for the sky, warmth spilling over until your hands tremble with the conflict warring inside you.
Nothing has changed, but everything could.
The timer goes off with a shrill chime, and you lean over the sink to where the small strip sits on top of a cup.
A bold pink line.
And then another, more faint, but certainly there. A simple equation, one plus one equals two. Simple math.
Tangible. Present.
Pregnant.
447 notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 1 day
Note
Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Tumblr media
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
taglist:
@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @cherryofdeath @ferns-fics
@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @miaraei @ninman82 @eternallyvenus
@beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction
@weasleytwins-41 @saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey
@mudisgranapat @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza
@nishim @voids-universe @iloveslasher @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307
@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic
@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld
@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm @arrozyfrijoles23
@lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @greeniegreengreen
453 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 15 hours
Note
hmmm mean!logan who makes a GREAT brat tamer, who will give your ass a quick slap in public for embarrassing him or talking back to him and gets you over his lap the moment you’re alone to really let you have it
bro… I need a hard, firm hand to show me who’s boss lmao
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
contents/warnings: smut, minors dni, mean!logan, spanking, brat taming, don't like don't read.
Tumblr media
"I want some." You appeal to Logan one day, glancing at the rather intimidating drink in his hand. It's straight liquor, no sweet syrups or even ice to tamp down the effects. He drinks hard, something he's built a tolerance to over his long life, aided by his remarkable healing abilities. What he drinks makes your eyes water and your throat itch, but today you're feeling brave- perhaps from the drink in your own hand.
"No." He says simply, raising his glass to his lips and taking a hefty swig. It lowers the volume of liquor in the glass substantially, but he swallows it like it's water. You watch as the muscles in his neck contract slightly with the motion of his throat, and perhaps they tense at the sharp taste, but he remains mostly reactionless to the drink he's downing. You, however, would be tipping over.
"Come on, please? Just a little bit? I just want to try." You plead, bracing your hands on his arm in hopes that he'll take pity on you. But he doesn't, and all that's sent your way is a warning glance.
"Nothing bad's gonna happen." You insist, "If I get all loopy you can just take me home."
"I said no." His voice is gruff, and something indignant sparks in your chest. Fine. You're a grown woman- you can order one yourself. You've seen Logan order it a thousand times, you know it by heart and you'll pay for it yourself. He can't stop you.
You spin with a huff towards the bar, stalking towards the bartender with determination that Logan should be afraid of. Seconds before you can reach the bar, your fingertips inches away from the smooth, albeit sticky surface, Logan's hand grips your arm tight, and you feel a sharp, stinging sensation against your skin as he lands a harsh smack on your ass.
The slap is rough, tough, and forceful, just the way Logan manhandles you into the dingy hallway that leads to the bathrooms. It's cut off from the crowd but you can still hear the patrons inside, mere feet away as Logan's scowl bores down on you.
"What did I fucking say?"
"You said no, like you control me," You scoff, "You're not my dad! I'm well over 21, Logan, I can drink whatever I want!"
"Not when I plan on fucking you into the mattress tonight, stupid." He snarls, and your stomach flips with an intensity you know you'll be feeling all night long, "You don't think there's a reason I'm trying to keep you sober? Those fruity little drinks don't do shit that water can't fix. If you downed one of these you'd be sick for a week.”
"I thought-" You start, but he plows on, undeterred.
"You think I care what you drink? Knock yourself out, cowgirl," He snickers, his irritation gone but not forgotten as he condescends, "If you wanna shoot shit that'll make your head spin, then do it. But not tonight. I want you to remember my name so you can scream it."
451 notes · View notes
l4ndonorizz · 2 days
Text
stuck / lando norris x reader
Tumblr media
pairing: lando norris x reader
song: the neighbourhood - stuck with me
summary: you're lando's pr manager and you're fuming because he made a mess again. but he solves the problem when you're stuck in an elevator.
wc: 1.3k
“How are you feeling about this?” you asked, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you both stepped into the elevator. You didn’t even look at Lando as you spoke, already feeling the headache building at the base of your skull. This wasn’t the first time you had to clean up after one of his slip-ups, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
Lando sighed heavily beside you, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I’d rather be anywhere else,” he muttered, his tone casual, almost as if this was just another day at work.
You shot him a sharp look, your patience already wearing thin. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t have to be here if you hadn’t caused a media circus in the first place, would you?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, smirking at your response. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” You could hardly believe what you were hearing. “You literally gave the media a goldmine, Lando! And now I have to deal with the fallout because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Again.”
Lando leaned back against the elevator wall, crossing his arms, clearly enjoying your frustration. “You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”
You glared at him. “Don’t start with me. This is serious.”
“I’m always serious,” he said, his tone completely at odds with the grin spreading across his face. “I just think maybe you’re overreacting a little. I mean, it’s my job to get attention, right?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the irritation bubbling up inside you. “There’s a difference between getting attention for winning a race and getting attention because you’ve said something stupid.”
Lando shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Yeah, but the media loves a good drama. You should be thanking me for giving you something to do.”
You couldn’t help it—you laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that meant you were one second away from snapping. “Oh, right. I should be thanking you for making my life harder? Because now I have to smooth this over so you don’t look like a complete idiot?”
Lando’s grin widened. “Maybe you’re just jealous, huh?”
You blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice teasing. “Maybe all this stress is because you’re a little jealous of the attention I’m getting. You know, from the fans, the press...the ladies.”
You felt your face heat up, a mix of anger and embarrassment rising to the surface. “Jealous? Of you? Absolutely not.”
“Sure,” he said, dragging out the word, clearly not buying it. “You definitely weren’t fuming when that journalist asked me out last week.”
Your eyes narrowed. “I was fuming because it was unprofessional, and we were in the middle of a press conference. Not because I’m jealous.”
Lando shrugged again, his smirk still firmly in place. “If you say so.”
Before you could respond, the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, the lights flickering for a moment before everything went still. You both froze, glancing around the small space.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, pressing the button for the next floor. Nothing. You pressed it again, harder this time. Still nothing.
Lando looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Well, this is awkward.”
You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Of course. Of course this would happen today.”
Lando, ever the optimist, leaned back against the wall again, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. “Guess we’re stuck.”
You shot him a look of pure exasperation. “We can’t be stuck. We have the press conference in less than an hour. I don’t have time for this.”
He patted the floor beside him, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on, sit down. Might as well get comfortable.”
You huffed but eventually gave in, sliding down the wall to sit beside him. You were both quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in.
“This is just perfect,” you muttered. “Now we’ll miss the conference, and everyone will assume you’re dodging questions.”
Lando chuckled softly. “Hey, at least we’ll have a good excuse. ‘Sorry, we’re trapped in an elevator.’”
You glared at him. “This isn’t funny, Lando. You’ve put yourself in a bad spot, and now I have to be the one to clean it up. Again.”
He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. “You’re really stressed about this, huh?”
You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. “Yeah, I am. It’s my job to make sure you come out of this looking good, and you keep making it harder.”
Lando was quiet for a beat before nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know I’m a pain sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes, though the edge in your voice had softened. “Sometimes?”
He grinned, clearly relieved that you weren’t completely mad at him anymore. “Okay, most of the time. But hey, you’re amazing at what you do. You always fix it.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I have to be, with you around.”
“See?” Lando said, his voice light again. “You should really be thanking me.”
You shot him a playful glare, nudging him with your elbow. “Don’t push it.”
The tension between you softened as the teasing subsided, replaced by something more subtle. Lando looked at you, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than usual, and suddenly the air in the elevator felt different. There was a shift, something unspoken but undeniably present. You were close, closer than you realized, and for the first time, you could feel a kind of weight behind his gaze.
“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you just how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”
You blinked, not expecting the sincerity in his tone. “Lando, it’s my job—”
“No,” he interrupted, leaning in just slightly, his expression serious. “It’s more than that. You put up with me, you deal with all my shit, and... I don’t know. You’re always there.
His words hung in the air, thick with meaning you didn’t quite know how to process. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest as the silence stretched on. Before you could say anything, the elevator jolted, the lights flickered, and the soft hum of the machinery kicked back in. The doors didn’t open yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.
But then, in that suspended moment, Lando moved closer, his eyes searching yours, and before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—it was a slow, deliberate kiss, as if he’d been thinking about doing this for a long time. His hand came up to cup your face, and for a second, you forgot about everything—the press conference, the mess he’d caused, the fact that you were his PR manager.
The kiss deepened, your hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders, and for that brief moment, nothing else mattered. Just the two of you, in this small, confined space, finally letting the tension between you spill over.
The elevator doors dinged softly, snapping you both back to reality. You pulled away, your breath coming in short gasps, eyes wide as the situation hit you.
Lando let out a soft, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Guess we’ll have to finish that later.”
You could only nod, still too stunned to form words.
With one final smile, Lando stepped out of the elevator, and you followed, your mind still reeling from the kiss that had just changed everything.
455 notes · View notes
in-class-daydreams · 20 hours
Text
cw. a lil age gap, but everyone is well over 18 (Gojo and Reader are ~40, Yuta is ~30)
Imagine the way ex-husband Gojo's eye twitches seeing how Yuta Okkotsu treats you.
You and Yuta had only seen each other in passing over the years. In fact, you never even officially met until he was several years out of school on the account of your innate technique causing Rika to go haywire. So while there was always a possibility of you seeing someone after the divorce, Satoru would never in his wildest dreams have guessed who it'd be. He'd heard through the grapevine that you only started seeing more of each other last year.
Satoru has to see you at the biweekly joint staff meetings between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools, made especially awkward after not one, but two (2) post-divorce make outs. The last time he kissed you while you were fighting, you shoved him away and booted him out of the house using your technique. Granted, you kissed him back, but you're not exactly on great terms right now.
So, it's bad enough that he has to see you as much as he does. Even worse is now that everything's out in the open, he has to watch you fawn over someone that's not him.
"You're so sweet!" you cry when Yuta surprises you during your lunch break with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "Thank you so much, but you really didn't have to do all this for me."
Yuta places a hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the door to the courtyard. Adjusting the picnic blanket slung over his shoulder, he asks, "Why not?"
"It's so much effort," you reply.
"For you? Nothing feels like much effort," Yuta says with a cheeky grin.
Satoru just catches a glimpse of you covering your face with your hand - as you always do when you blush - and then the two of you are out the door. It takes all his effort not to gag at how cheesy that was. Never mind how genuine Yuta looked about it.
Of course Satoru had taken you out for lunch while you were together. All kinds of lunches. Mom and pop shops, food stands, upscale restaurants, you'd done it all. Your new suitor wasn't doing anything for you that he hadn't done.
Suitor. What was this, the 1800's?
Suguru appears at his side while he stares after you.
"Was that Yuta?" he asks. "I'm impressed. He's supposed to be at a week-long training in Ibaraki."
Ibaraki? The prefecture that's over two hours away? He came all this way to have lunch with you?
Alright, Satoru never did that. Not that he wouldn't have! He totally would've if he'd, you know, thought of it.
Suguru seems oblivious to the emotional bomb he just dropped on his best friend. "I'm starving. Let's hurry up and go eat. I'm good with anything except KFC," he complains.
It takes a couple tries to get his attention, but Satoru eventually pulls himself out of his thoughts. He comforts himself with the notion that Yuta would be gone by the time he returned.
Tumblr media
Imagine that while Yuta himself may be absent, his presence damn near haunts ex-husband Gojo to death.
You're already back in the meeting room by the time he and Suguru return from lunch, only you now have a full water bottle (he noticed you pout when you drank the last of it earlier), a sleeve of oreos sticking out of your bag, and a cute travel mug full of some hot drink that you definitely didn't have before.
If Satoru wasn't so preoccupied with insisting to himself that, 'I totally did things like that back in the day!' and provided his ex-wife wasn't the woman in question, he'd be thinking, 'Yuta Okkotsu, I was unfamiliar with your game.'
Even more frustrating is how energetic you look. You have your notes out and are nibbling on an oreo, kicking your feet back and forth as if there's not another two and a half hours left of this meeting.
It's not that Satoru doesn't want you to be happy. Quite the opposite, actually, since he'd gladly give his life if he thought he could guarantee your eternal joy and safety. He's just not sure what Yuta has that he didn't. Or doesn't.
"What does she see in him?" Satoru murmurs to himself later, when a bunch of the staff members go out for drinks. You're at the bar laughing with Yuki and Shoko.
He regrets speaking out loud when Sukuna snorts from behind him.
"How much time do we have?" your coworker says with amusement. He slides into the booth, nursing his sake bomb with ice. It's a travesty of a drink, if you ask Satoru, but to each his own.
"Great, it's my least favorite person," Satoru gripes.
Sukuna seems to take great pleasure in Satoru's misery. "I think Okkotsu's earned himself that title."
Now, Satoru hates the taste of alcohol nor is it ever a good idea for someone constantly using a cursed technique to get drunk, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.
He snatches the drink from Sukuna's hand and downs the whole thing in one go.
Tumblr media
Imagine how baffled ex-husband Gojo is when his son delivers a cursed artifact to him instead of you.
"Where's your mom?" he asks.
Sen hands over the small box covered in talismans while his best friend, Nao, lingers by the office door. Rolling his eyes, he says, "We had a mission in the area, so Sukuna-sensei had us deliver this."
"Not what I asked you, kid," Satoru replies, leaning back in his chair. He gestures for the boys to have a seat, but neither move.
Nao, who has a tendency to stir the pot if he thinks it'll be funny, pipes up, "She's on vacation for a week."
Since when did you take vacations? And why hadn't he heard of this?
"What's she doing for a whole week?" he asks.
Nao replies. "Okkotsu finished his training and whisked her away to some onsen in Obanazawa."
Sen smirks. "That snowy place that looks like it's from Spirited Away? How romantic."
"Super romantic." Stir, stir, stir, Nao Zen'in.
Sen was not a fan of anyone trying to get close to his mom. He'd seen how the divorce hurt you, but so far, Yuta worshipped the ground you walked on, so Sen was at least willing to not be too hostile towards him if it meant antagonizing his father.
Sen and his friend quickly say their goodbyes and head out to do whatever it is high school boys do. Once they're gone, Satoru pulls out his phone and searches 'onsen obanazawa.' The results show Ginzan Onsen, a place with traditional Japanese architecture with a beautiful snowy landscape. But according to the reviews, though a wonderful and charming place, it wasn't from the best onsen in Japan. He wants to scoff at the fact that his supposed 'replacement' chose anything but the best for you, but then he sees where Obanazawa is, which is in Yamagata prefecture.
Where you grew up. Where you and Satoru met.
How had it never occurred to him to bring you back there?
When he mopes on Suguru's couch later that evening, he tells his best friend the whole story. Suguru's delicate features are twisted into a grimace the whole way through.
"Why are you making such an ugly face?" Satoru asks miserably.
"I've never been ugly a moment of my life, Satoru."
"You know what I mean."
Suguru sighs and clicks his tongue. "They're not official?"
"So she keeps saying."
Though reluctant to kick his friend while he's down, Suguru decides that Satoru needs to know so he can mentally prepare himself.
"He's taking her on a romantic trip to a beautiful resort in her home prefecture. They may not be official now, but after a trip like that, there's no way she's coming back without a label. Hell, if they were official, she'd most likely be coming back with a ring."
Hearing that, Satoru contemplates finding a nice spot in the cursed artifact archive and falling into a coma for at least the next thousand years.
Tumblr media
The plot McThickens
Find the other installments of this AU [here] | Find the #gojo sentaro lore [here] | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
425 notes · View notes
tanjamikaelson · 3 days
Text
CAN FRIENDS KISS? | Rafe Cameron x fem!reader |
Summary: A long-time friendship between you and Rafe blurs into something more when he returns to the Outer Banks after months away. As buried feelings and fantasies surface, a party reveals jealousy and desire, leading to a night where boundaries are crossed, and the truth is finally spoken. In a moment of raw passion, both of you realize that being just friends was never enough.
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, jealousy.
Tumblr media
•°•°•°•°•
I'ma call you, I'ma hit your number
I'ma slow whine and make you wonder
Fantasies about you in my head, yeah
I know that we shouldn't, but
Can friends kiss?
Touch each other like this?
Under cover like this?
Little too close, play a Popcaan song
And my mind is gone like this
Teasin' on you like this
Put it on you like this
Little too close, play a Konshens song
And my mind is gone like this
•°•°•°•°•
It had been months since you last saw Rafe, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, the truth was suffocating—you missed him more than just a friend. You’d kept yourself busy, convincing yourself that it was nothing, but when you found out he was back in the Outer Banks, that facade crumbled. Before you could stop yourself, your shaky hands dialed his number, the ringing amplifying the tension in your chest.
“Hey,” his voice came through the phone, a comforting warmth that wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. It sent a ripple of longing through you, more intense than you expected.
Your voice wavered as you breathed his name, "Rafe." A beat of silence followed, and then, without intending it, the words tumbled out: "I missed you." It wasn’t just a friendly confession—it was heavy, laced with the feelings you had kept hidden. The kind that kept you up at night, replaying moments in your mind like an old film reel.
There was a pause on his end. You could practically hear the confusion in his silence. You had never said it like that before, never let the words carry the weight they did now.
“You missed me?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I was only gone for a few weeks.”
"A few weeks too long," you murmured, your voice quieter, almost lost in your thoughts, picturing his expression, the slight furrow of his brow as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. What he didn’t know, what you hadn’t told him, was how much you had been thinking about him while he was gone. Fantasizing, really. You knew you shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts once they started.
Your heart raced as you imagined telling him as if the words were stuck in your throat. Could friends kiss? Could they touch each other the way you wanted to touch him?
“You’re acting different,” Rafe’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Something on your mind?”
You bit your lip. If only he knew.
One memory haunted you, especially now that he was back. You couldn’t get it out of your mind. Your mind drifted back to the last time you saw him. You’d been at a party, music pumping through the air, bodies swaying in rhythm to the beats of Popcaan. That night, you and Rafe danced, teasing each other like always, but something had changed. The way your bodies moved together, the heat that built between you—it had lit a spark inside you that refused to fade. You often wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped.
Fantasies of his touch, the way his hands felt when they lingered a little too long, how his eyes followed you when he thought you weren't looking. It shouldn’t be this way, not when you both knew the unspoken rule of your friendship. But your heart raced at the thought of pushing those boundaries. If you had just leaned in a little more, let him feel how much you wanted him. But you didn’t—at least not then.
•°•°•°•°•
I don't like your new girl, she don't move me
When you talk about her, I get moody
VVS1 icin' out my neck, yeah
I want it to drip, drip on your lips
•°•°•°•°•
A few days later, Rafe invited you to a party at his house. You told yourself you’d go just to see him, just to catch up like old times. But the moment you walked in and saw his hands wrapped around Sofia, something inside you twisted painfully. She was new. A stranger in your world, someone who didn't belong.
He noticed you almost immediately, a smile spreading across his face as he waved you over.
You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you walked over to him. “Hey Y/N, this is Sofia.” He introduced her casually as if it didn’t mean anything. But it meant everything. Your mood plummeted, jealousy clawing at your chest as you watched them stand together.
Sofia smiled sweetly, but you barely heard what she said, your attention fixated on Rafe. You reached up, touching the VVS1 diamond necklace that adored your neck. The diamonds sparkled under the dim lights of the party, catching his attention. You wanted him to notice. You wanted him to see you, not her.
You imagine the cool metal dripping onto his lips, erasing any trace of her. A bold fantasy, maybe, but it was all you could think about.
“I’ll catch you later,” You muttered, making an excuse to walk away before the bitterness in your voice betrayed you.
Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t have to compete with her. But seeing them together hurt more than you could bear. And you weren't the type to sit back and watch something slip through your fingers.
•°•°•°•°•
Come party, come touch my body
I'm a busybody, tick, tick, tick, tick
Come find me, come get behind me
•°•°•°•°•
You made your way to the dance floor in an attempt to distract yourself.
Your body moved instinctively, swaying to the pulsing rhythm, trying to drown out the image of Rafe and Sofia together. The alcohol was doing its job, dulling the sharp ache in your chest, blurring the edges of your jealousy. You let yourself sink into the music, pressing against faceless strangers, their presence offering a temporary distraction. Yet no matter how hard you tried to lose yourself in the crowd, you could feel it—his eyes on you, burning through the haze.
You didn’t need to look. The weight of Rafe’s gaze from across the room was undeniable, igniting a fire beneath your skin that no one else in that room could extinguish. When you finally glanced over, your eyes locked with his, and in that instant, everything else faded away. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like watching you with someone else, knowing that you were slipping through his fingers, teasing someone else with the same fire you had once reserved for him.
For a heartbeat, the world stopped. The thrum of the music, the blur of people moving around you—none of it mattered. It was just you and him, staring across the distance, the unspoken tension that had always simmered between you now bubbling to the surface. A slow, deliberate smile played on your lips. If he wanted to play this game, then so be it. You raised a single finger, curling it toward you in a silent dare. Come get me.
The guy you had been dancing with protested as you slipped away, but his words didn’t even register. Your mind was already fixated on one thing—Rafe. You needed him. His presence pulled you in like a magnetic force, and no one else in that room could compete. You crossed the space between you in a few steps, your heart pounding, and when you reached him, you leaned in close, your lips just barely brushing his ear as you whispered, “Come touch my body.”
It wasn’t a request; it was a challenge.
For a second, he hesitated, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes almost making you question everything. But then, his hands found your waist, strong and possessive, pulling your back flush against his front. The second his skin touched yours, it was as though the air crackled with electricity, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. He was close, too close, and yet not close enough. His breath was warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and you felt your pulse quicken as he spun you around to face him, the air between you thick with tension.
The crowd disappeared. The world was reduced to the heat between the two of you, the rhythm of the music aligning with the rhythm of your hearts. This wasn’t how friends looked at each other. This wasn’t how friends touched. The space between you was thick with unsaid words, with unspoken desire, and you were done pretending. When the music slowed, so did you, your body brushing deliberately against his, your movements slow, teasing.
The feel of him so close, the heat of his body pressed against yours, was intoxicating. Every inch of you burned with a desire you could no longer suppress. Your hips swayed in time with the music, deliberately pressing against him, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like the only person in the room. It was maddening, this pull you had toward him, the way you craved his touch like it was the only thing that could sate the need that had been building inside you for far too long.
“Wanna get out of here?” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, your voice breathless. It wasn’t just a question—it was an invitation. One you knew he wouldn’t refuse.
•°•°•°•°•
Go lock the door
Fall in love with me, I'm bored
We both know I'm yours
I can't do it anymore
•°•°•°•°•
His response was immediate, his hand sliding into yours as he led you through the crowd, away from the noise, away from Sofia. He pushed open a door to a quieter space, a room tucked away from the chaos of the party. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly, it was just the two of you, along with the tension that had been building for months.
Your heart raced, each breath coming quicker as you stood there, staring at him, the weight of everything unsaid between you heavy in the air. You knew this was the moment that would change everything.
“Lock the door,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.
The anticipation was electric, a current of excitement buzzing beneath your skin as he crossed the room, locking the door with a final click that sent a shiver down your spine.
The silence between you stretched for a moment, both of you knowing what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, no going back to how things were before. The friendship you had clung to was a façade, one that had already started to crumble.
“I can’t do this anymore, Rafe,” you confessed, stepping closer. “I can’t pretend we’re just friends.”
The words hung heavy in the air, the final admission that shattered whatever boundaries had remained between you. His eyes darkened, his breath catching as the reality of what you said hit him. You were both teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something that once crossed, couldn’t be undone.
“I didn’t like seeing you out there,” he finally said, his voice low, rough around the edges with an emotion he couldn’t hide. “With those guys.”
A teasing smile tugged at your lips, but your voice was soft, full of a truth that neither of you could deny. “We both know I’m yours.”
You could see the conflict in his eyes, the hesitation that flickered there for just a moment. But then, it was gone, replaced by the same burning need that mirrored your own.
•°•°•°•°•
This blue chiffon
Off, off, off, need it gone
More Radikon
And it goes on and on
•°•°•°•°•
Your fingers trembled as they toyed with the soft chiffon of your dress, the delicate blue fabric slipping from your shoulders with ease. The silky material cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet like water, leaving you standing exposed and vulnerable in nothing but lace underwear. The cool air of the room kissed your bare skin, a stark contrast to the fevered heat pulsing between you two. But at that moment, none of it mattered. You didn’t care about the chill, didn’t care about anything except the urgent need building inside you—craving him, needing him.
Rafe’s gaze was locked on you, his eyes darkened with desire, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you. For a heartbeat, he seemed to freeze, as if the intensity of the moment was too much to fully comprehend. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the distance between you. His hands found your skin, gliding across it like they’d been aching for this moment forever, tracing paths of fire and wanting that made your whole body shiver.
Time seemed to blur as his hands wandered through your hair, along the curve of your spine, as though memorizing every inch of you. The air between you thickened, heavy with the weight of months of unresolved tension, as though the very room could feel the gravity of what was happening. His lips hovered near yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“You’re sure?” His voice was rough, hesitant, though his need was palpable.
You answered him with a kiss, your lips pressing against his, soft at first, but quickly deepening as the tension that had been building for months finally exploded.
He kissed you back, harder, his hands tightened in your hair as you pulled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours, to erase the space between you.
In a blur of hurried, feverish movements, clothes were discarded carelessly, forgotten. The world outside ceased to exist. The only sound in the room was your mingled breaths, ragged and uneven, as you both succumbed to the intensity of what you had been holding back. He was on top of you, his lips trailing fire down your neck, leaving you gasping beneath him.
Your hand slid between your bodies, fingers curling around his hard length, and the sharp intake of his breath told you everything you needed to know. He had imagined this too, had craved it as desperately as you had. The need between you was raw, primal. You stroked him slowly, teasingly, until his grip on your arm tightened, a silent plea. He needed to be inside of you.
He teased your entrance, the head of him brushing against your warmth, making your body arch in anticipation. Then, with agonizing slowness, he pushed inside, and you both moaned as he filled you completely, his body melting into yours in a way that felt so natural, so right. It was everything you had imagined, only more—more intense, more overwhelming, more perfect.
He began to move, his hips thrusting in and out, setting a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own heartbeat. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the slap of skin against skin, your moans, and his groans blending in a symphony of desire.
“Does it feel good?” Rafe whispered, his voice rough, his lips brushing your ear as his pace quickened.
You couldn’t form words, only moan in response, your mind too lost in the sensation to do anything but feel. He slowed his movements, pulling almost all the way out, demanding, “Answer me.”
“Yes, Rafe,” you managed to gasp, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It feels so good.”
His hand gripped your hip harder as he thrust back into you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is this how you imagined it?”
You moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed deeper, his every motion drawing you closer to the edge. “It’s… it’s better,” you whispered. “So much better.”
A low growl escaped his throat as he sped up his movements, clearly pleased by your answer. He pulled back before slamming into you again, hard and fast, causing you to bite down on your lip until you tasted the faint copper of blood. He was relentless, each thrust more powerful than the last.
“Your pussy is even tighter than I imagined,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. His words only fueled the fire between you as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, needing him to fill you as completely as possible. With each thrust, his pubic bone brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body.
You felt the familiar knot in your lower abdomen tightening, the heat in your core building with every movement. Your nails dug into his back as the tension inside you reached its breaking point. “I’m close,” you moaned, the words barely audible.
“Cum for me,” Rafe growled into your ear, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you.”
And that was all it took. The world around you exploded in white-hot pleasure, your body convulsing beneath him as your orgasm tore through you. The intensity was like nothing you had ever experienced, your entire being shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you, again and again.
You tightened around him, your muscles gripping him with every pulse, and Rafe let out a deep groan as he reached his own climax. You felt him release inside of you, filling you completely as you both came undone together, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you rode out the last moments of bliss.
For a long time, neither of you moved, both caught in the aftershocks of what had just happened. The world outside still didn’t matter. All that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing as you both came down from the high, lost in each other’s arms.
There was no going back, but maybe, neither of you wanted to. You had always been each other's, even before either of you realized it. And now, as you lay tangled together, hearts racing, you knew this was only the beginning.
284 notes · View notes
wosoluver · 2 days
Text
Oh, baby
Georgia Stanway x reader.
I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!
Other players masterlist
Tumblr media
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.
"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.
That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.
A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?
Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?
You started to cry immediately.
"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."
"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."
"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."
"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."
She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.
You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.
You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.
You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.
You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.
A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.
And you both finally managed to start your life together.
She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.
From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.
And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.
It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.
But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.
You didn't expect for it to work so soon.
Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.
Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.
You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.
She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.
She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.
And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Just one more push, yeah?"
And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.
You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.
But you couldn't, yet.
"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.
"Is the game over yet?"
"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.
You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.
ongoing call...
"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."
before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.
"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.
"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.
"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.
"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."
And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.
"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."
"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.
"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."
"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."
"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?
like & share pls!
312 notes · View notes
joelslastofus · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
[SUMMARY: Trigger warning. Joel triggers your PTSD when you see him drunk for the first time causing you to have flashbacks of your abusive ex.]
Mentions of DV
“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.
Joel knew how you felt about alcohol, he knew the hell you had gone through with your ex boyfriend because of it. Having known him for a year, you and him both traveled alone surviving together. Never had you seen Joel intoxicated, neither of you had come across liquor during your journey and when you did Joel ignored it out of respect for you. Of course, Joel missed the alcohol helping him somewhat sleep at night yet he never mentioned it.
Tonight the two of you had gotten lucky, after being on your feet for nine hours walking through the woods you both came across a cabin that looked as if it had been abandoned for a while now. After making sure it was empty you both claimed it as your own, at least until you had to keep moving again.
“Oh it’s nice to finally have a bed tonight” you looking at the bed at the other end of the room. Joel smirked as he looked around, peaking through the cabinets where he found two full bottles of whiskey. God it had been so long since Joel had a taste, the only thing that numbed him entirely, he craved just a glass.
“What cha find?” You asked as you began to unpack your bag. Joel quickly closing the door and clearing his throat as he moved along.
“Nothin’ uh, a few cans of food and towels” Joel knowing damn well it was nothing to mention.
“Good, I’m hungry” you spoke excitedly as Joel grabbed the cans to sit at the table.
Joel and you lay on the couch, your body slouched against his for a moment as his hand brushed through your hair.
“Oh I’d love to be able to just watch a movie now, have some popcorn” you sighed, the thought making Joel slightly smile.
“What movie would we watch?” He asked curiously.
“Hmmm…I don’t know, how about a romantic comedy?” You winked at him as he playfully shook his head rubbing his eyes.
“Oh baby, I’d watch anything with you” he whispered looking down at you before kissing you softly.
“Who knows, we probably wouldn’t even watch anything” he chuckled as you playfully shoved him.
“We should get sleep” your lips brushing against his as you spoke. He nodded before you pushed yourself up and walked to the bed.
“Are you coming?” You yawned as you dusted the bed off a bit and pulled back the covers.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few” he called out to you before looking back at the cabinet that held the two bottles of whiskey. Too exhausted to wait, your eyes closed and you fell right to sleep.
Once Joel was sure that you were asleep, quietly he got up and stopped right at the cabinet. Looking back at you he reached for the first bottle, slowly opening it up. Without thought Joel began to drink savoring the taste he hadn’t had in so long, wiping his lips feeling the burn in his chest.
“Fuck” It’s just what he needed after not being able to sleep properly in weeks.
Closing his eyes in relief he took another chug before taking the bottle back with him to the couch. Within fourty minutes he was half way through, slowly getting to the bottom. The buzz creeping up on him as he leaned his head back and took a deep breath.
Joel began slowly walking around the cabin, reading some of the frames on the wall when he began to stumble. Reaching for a frame Joel accidentally knocked it to the ground causing you to wake up.
“Joel?”
“Shit” he whispered.
Rubbing your eyes you go out of bed to see Joel across the room.
“You ok?” He turned to you revealing the half empty open bottle in his hand, that’s when you looked at his face and realized he didn’t look like the Joel you knew.
“Didn’t mean to…wake ya..” he whispered as he noticed the way you stared at the bottle in his hand.
“Where’d you get that?” You asked softly as Joel took a deep breath with regret.
“You…-“ he began to walk towards you.
“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.
“Maybe you should….lay down” you spoke nervously as he stopped right before you.
“Shit baby, I fucked up..” he whispered. The smell of alcohol making your stomach turn, the memories of the nightmare you lived with your ex boyfriend now coming back to you. Your heart racing as you felt a panic you never thought you would feel again.
“You’re mad at me, ain’t cha?” He couldn’t hold himself still as he stood before you, you took a step back feeling the wall behind you as you slowly shook your head. Mad wasn’t the word as your nerves took over. You trusted Joel yet seeing him in a way you never had…seeing him in a way your ex had his violent outbursts, you were terrified.
“Don’t be…mad at…..me, baby. Ima make this..right” he slurred.
You watched as he dangled the half empty bottle around before closing the top in a clumsy manner and placing the bottle on the table beside him.
“There” he placed his hands up showing you he was done. As drunk as he was he could see the fear in your eyes.
“Please don’t be mad at me-“ he unexpectedly reached for you causing you to step back against the wall harder than you meant to.
“I ain’t gonna hurt cha” his eyes desperate for you to trust him. Yet, his words only seemed to make it worse. It was something your ex would love to say just before he actually would hurt you.
“Fuck” Joel shoved the chair beside him causing you to jump.
“Stop it! Just stop!” You felt yourself begin to lose any control you thought you had.
“Baby-“
“Just go lay down! Go to sleep!” You couldn’t even look him in the eye. All you wanted desperately was for him to get away from you. Joel stood silent as he took a step back and did as you asked. Quietly going to the bed he lay down and let you be.
As soon as he walked away you began to silently hyperventilate. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to fight off the memories, the trauma…you tried to fight the fear.
You knew you would no longer be able to properly sleep that night. Joel was out in a matter of minutes while you sat up on the couch watching him. Your eyes feeling heavy, it was getting harder to stay awake until eventually you fell asleep.
After a few hours Joel began to wake up. With a slight headache he slowly pushed himself up with a groan before looking up and noticing the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. Quickly he looked around the room to find you sitting on the couch asleep facing him.
“Shit” he whispered to himself brushing his hand through his hair. Bits and pieces of the night before flashed in his mind, one thing he couldn’t stop picturing was how afraid you seemed of him.
Joel stood up walking towards you, he could tell you didn’t mean to fall asleep. You seemed cold and so he grabbed a blanket from the bed and slowly placed it on you. The feel of the blanket covering you causing you to slowly open your eyes and when you did, you jumped not expecting to see Joel standing over you.
“It’s me-“ he tried to assure you.
“It’s me, baby I’m sober, I ain’t drinkin’ I promise” it took a moment for you to realize he actually was sober. There was the Joel you knew staring down at you with concern. Staying silent for a moment you looked around a bit confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep, let alone for how long. You looked at him quietly as you slowly sat up and took a deep breath.
“You-“
“I know” he quickly spoke as he stood up straight.
“I’ve never seen you like that before” you whispered.
“and I….I thought about Cameron and-“ he noticed you begin to slightly tremble.
“I just didn’t know what you were capable of” you blurt out as you held back your tears.
“Scared the hell out of me” Joel brushed his hand over his lips before quickly getting down on one knee.
“Look at me” he spoke low looking directly into your eyes.
“I would never do anything to hurt you. Ever. You understand that?” He was serious. He meant every word he said.
“I wish I could find the prick that did this to you, I guarantee you he’d never have a drink again” you quietly nodded yet he could still see you trembling. It was getting harder for you to control.
“Hey” he placed his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up.
“I ain’t gonna drink again alright? I should’ve never done that” he whispered. You let out a breath of relief and threw your arms around him pulling him in. Joel held you hold close and kissed your forehead.
“Come on, get into bed with me, baby” he slowly lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You watched as he walked to the counter and poured the left over liquor down the drain. As much as Joel loved a drink, your peace of mind was more important to him. Throwing the bottle out the window he walked back to you and lay beside you pulling you close as you fell asleep..
201 notes · View notes
thelostconsultant · 2 days
Text
Delicate. part 1
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
note: Lando invites everyone to his New Year's Eve party, but Charles convinces you to join him on a hunt for food.
Tumblr media
You knew this New Year’s Eve party was important to Lando, you knew he wanted everyone to be there, so you put on a shiny, dark pink sequin mini dress, applied some light makeup, then headed out to the club that he somehow managed to reserve for himself. How long he’d been planning this, you had no idea, but he surely went a little overboard this time. I just want to be alone with my friends, that’s not a crime, he defended himself when you pointed this out to him a few weeks ago. 
At the party, you felt a little out of place. This was the first time in years you weren’t entering the new year on the side of your boyfriend, the one you had broken up with half a year ago. It was a mutual decision, the spark wasn’t there anymore, so you didn’t miss him, you just missed the idea of clinging to someone the whole night. It was pathetic, you hated yourself for feeling this way, but there was nothing you could do about it. 
Your best friend knew Lando, but she didn’t get an invitation because everybody knew she spent every New Year’s Eve on a yacht in the Maldives. She tried to convince you to go with her this year, but you didn’t feel like leaving Monaco for a place so far away, especially not when she would be all over her boyfriend the whole time. They were cute together, you loved them, but third wheeling wasn’t so inviting. 
You chatted with a few people, even let someone convince you to dance a little, but then you found a couch in the back of the club that you chose as your permanent spot for the rest of the night when you sat down with a cocktail in your hand. It was nice to sit back and watch the people around you celebrate, having the time of their lives from the looks of it. Despite the weird feeling you had since you arrived, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. At least they were happy. They were celebrating. 
You? You didn’t know what to look out for in the new year. Maybe you should get a job again. After you finished your studies, you worked for a consulting company for a year, but then you had enough of the excel files and the presentations, and decided to be nothing more than a carefree heiress in the future. Your grandmother, who came from a wealthy family with a long history, had always favored you over her children, including your mother. So, when she died, she left everything to you in her will. 
The peaceful people-watching activity was disrupted when you noticed someone plopping down next to you out of the corner of your eye. It annoyed you, really, but once you turned to look at who it was, your annoyance disappeared as if it hadn’t even been there. You didn’t really know Charles. Sure, he was on good terms with Lando, sometimes you attended the same parties, but the most you exchanged were probably a total of ten sentences in the span of years. But he had that calming aura around him, one that made you feel better, as if you were suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket. 
At first, you didn’t talk, there was no need for that. He just probably needed a place to sit down until he got a little rest before rejoining the party. Sipping your drink, you continued to watch the people, completely ignoring your neighbor. But then you began to have a strange feeling, as if someone was watching you, eyes burning a hole in you without knowing, and it didn’t take long to figure out it was him who was shamelessly ogling you. 
When you turned to him with a questioning look, he quickly shifted his gaze somewhere else, acting like he hadn’t just been caught in the act of staring at you. Shaking your head a little, you decided to ignore him for now. He was probably drunk and had no idea what was appropriate anymore. Although, he didn’t seem that out of it, in fact, he just looked tired with those dark circles under his eyes. 
And then you felt his thigh press against yours, shoulders touching after he moved closer to you. “I bet you don’t wanna be here either,” he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. Finally turning to acknowledge him, you give him a surprised look. “Lando was quite literally begging me to come tonight. I’m only here because I promised, even though I’d rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else,” he added. 
“If I could choose, I’d be sitting on my couch with a blanket around me, eating popcorn while holding a movie marathon,” you admitted with a smile. “But it’s impossible to say no to him.”
“Sad, but true.” His green eyes turned to the crowd in front of you, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers played with his bracelets. “I would give up my car for some popcorn. Or a pizza. Or some pasta. Anything, really, because I’m starving,” he told you as he looked back.
The last time you were around the other side of the club, there was a huge table with a lot of food, how could he not see that? But when you shared this little piece of information with him, he just laughed, and his bright smile reached his eyes too. You wondered what was so funny about this, but you soon got your answer.
“Yeah, that was true until about an hour ago. I was just about to finally eat something, but some guy grabbed the very last of the sliders I had my eyes on. The table is empty. There’s no food. We’re going to die.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air as he leaned back, glancing down at his watch. “It’s only eleven, I don’t know how long I’ll last. Do you think I will live until midnight?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his question. But you weren’t laughing at him, you were laughing with him. Now that he mentioned food, though, you realized that you were quite hungry too. “Did you really have to bring up food?” you asked him with a disapproving look. 
Charles’s lips curled into a grin. “Now you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” When you nodded, he bumped his shoulder against yours. “It’s your fault for talking about popcorn,” he pointed out. “Although… Do you think Lando would notice if we left? He seems so busy partying that I highly doubt he would notice we’re not here.”
As your eyes scanned the crowd to find the host, you let out a thoughtful hum. The last time you saw him, which conveniently happened in the restroom, he was already on his way to get real drunk, and he was having so much fun you highly doubted he would care about some of his guests escaping. So, without thinking more about this, you turned to the Monegasque next to you and told him the answer is probably no. 
“Great,” he said as he jumped up and extended his hand for you to grab it. When you just watched him with a questioning look, he leaned down to take your hand and pull you up. “Come on, I know a place where we can hopefully get food.” And with that, he took your hand and pulled you towards the exit, not really giving you the chance to object. 
The two of you walked down the street, hands stuffed into the pockets of your jackets to fight the chilly night air, and you talked about music, movies, even about how Christmas went. You barely noticed that he came to a halt in front of a little bistro in a narrow street, holding up a pointer finger to ask for a second while he opened the door and peeked inside. 
He spoke with someone in French, exchanging words you couldn’t quite make out, then he reached out for your hand with a smile on his face and pulled you inside. There was a small group of people sitting around a table, happily discussing something until they noticed you standing there. At first, there was silence. But then they erupted in cheers while someone stood up and pulled Charles into a hug.
A man in his late thirties ushered you to an empty chair by the table that he pulled out for you, then he poured both you and the Monegasque driver a glass of wine. You watched as your new companion got comfortable across from you, already deep in a conversation with an older man who explained something with wide motions of his hand. 
Whoever these people were, they clearly welcomed him like he was family. The older man he was talking to called him son at one point, and Charles didn't flinch, he just smiled lovingly as he listened to the story. He was way more at ease here than he had been back in the club. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but those green eyes came to life in this new environment.
Someone placed freshly made sandwiches in front of you, and you didn't miss the small smile on his face when he glanced at you for a moment. A little explanation would have been nice, just so you would know whose company you were enjoying, but since he didn't bother to explain, you focused your attention on your food. And when you took a bite? God, it was heavenly. 
“Good, right?” When you glanced up, you noticed that a kind-looking, forty-something woman was now sitting on the chair next to you, her long brown hair flowing down her shoulders as her blue eyes watched you with a mischievous glint. “My father,” she began, motioning towards the man Charles was talking to, “opened this place because he wanted people to have actual conversations with each other while enjoying their food. Charles can have extremely long discussions with him about literally anything.”
Once you swallowed, you extended a hand to her to introduce yourself. After you got past that, you turned your finger around to show what you were about to say was related to everyone in this room. “So, is it a family event that he just crashed?” you wondered out loud. 
Marie let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Hardly. They're all friends through my father, though. We always gather here on New Year's Eve, but this is the first time Charles came. Although, based on the way he made his sandwich disappear so fast, I guess it was the food that brought him here,” she said with a wide smile. 
Guilt rushed through your body upon hearing this, because that's exactly what happened. But he seemed happy, maybe deep down he wanted to be here with his friends. They were so different from the ones you also hung out with, the F1 drivers and other celebrities. These were normal people, having normal conversations, acting genuinely and kindly. 
You got lost in a conversation, but soon it was interrupted when she glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:55 p.m. It was almost time. She excused herself and left to fill flutes with champagne, and before you knew it, you were all standing in a circle, counting down to midnight. Charles was standing next to you, smiling so much that his nose crinkled in the cutest way.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One. 
And just when you wanted to join the group as they said happy new year, you felt a hand on the back of your neck, then a few milliseconds later, before your brain could comprehend what was happening, Charles's lips crashed into yours. It was slow and soft, he definitely took his time with you as if you weren’t surrounded by people. And just as abruptly as it began, it came to an end eventually. 
“It's in the law to kiss someone at midnight,” he said with a smile as he licked his lips.
For a while you were staring at him dumbfounded, but you managed to shake off this feeling and nodded after a short break. That’s true, it was a well-known tradition. Flashing a smile at him, you turned away to clink your glasses with the others, placing friendly kisses on their cheeks in the process, but Marie decided to pull you into a hug, treating you as if you had known each other for a long time. 
It felt nice. Unlike at the party, here you actually felt like you belonged. Sure, you and Lando were really good friends, and yes, you knew many of his friends, but none of them was a close friend of yours. Yet, despite not really knowing Charles, the fact he was so relaxed and happy among his friends made you happy too. It was a contagious feeling, and maybe it was related to the warm welcome here that lifted your mood. These people were so different from the ones you were used to in your everyday life. It was charming, really. 
You all sat down when someone pulled out a board game that seemed old and unfamiliar to you. But they were kind enough to explain the rules to you, and Charles even promised to help you throughout the game as he took a seat next to you. I only began to understand it around the third time we played it, so don’t be sad if you still don’t understand any of it by the end, he told you with a laugh. You returned his beaming smile, and in the next two hours or so you laughed a lot, argued a lot, and there was even some shouting when someone accused another of cheating. 
By the time they packed up the game, you were so tired you couldn't fight back your yawns. You glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was past three in the morning, and you knew it was time to go home now, because even though fun’s fun, there's a limit to everything. The thought of your soft bed was inviting, like a siren calling for you from the distance, and the idea of spending the whole day in it was the cherry on top.
“Going home?” Marie asked you with her hand resting on your shoulder, her tired smile giving away that she was probably also debating calling it a day. When you nodded, she let out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could go too, but I promised my father I'd stick around and help him clean up a bit after everyone left.”
Without thinking much, you pulled her into a hug. “I'm sure you could convince him to clean up tomo–well, later today,” you finished with a laugh. 
She leaned back to look at you. “And leave the dirty plates and glasses here? No, thank you. I'll just sleep a little longer, I guess,” she replied as she let you go.
Suddenly an arm landed around your shoulder, and based on the bracelets around the man's right wrist, it was a safe bet that the man was Charles. And sure enough, the driver's face came into view when he leaned into your field of vision. You watched him with a curious look in your eyes, but he didn't seem too interested in explaining what he wanted.
“I've already told this to your father, but thank you for hosting us, even though we arrived last minute without a warning,” he finished with a boyish smile before his green eyes turned to you. “But it's late, we'll head home now.” 
Marie kissed his cheek, then she reached out to squeeze your hand as a goodbye. “It was nice to have you both here. You know you can jump in anytime. And you,” she went on, turning to you, “would better not disappear on me. Let's have lunch together someday.”
“Of course. I'll give you a call tomorrow when we're both fully awake,” you promised with a smile.
The two of you said goodbye to everyone, then stepped out on the street, standing next to each other in silence. It felt like you had suddenly run out of topics to discuss, although after some thinking, you managed to find something you could bring up.
“You could've stayed a little longer,” you told him as your eyes found his face again. 
Charles laughed as he shook his head. “It's late, I could use some proper sleep too,” he admitted. As his eyes were focused on you, he bit on his lower lip and clearly thought about something. “Can I walk you home?” 
“That’s a nice offer, but I already called a taxi. Thanks for bringing me here, though. I had fun,” you said with a wide smile. It was true, you couldn't remember the last time you had been to such a nice New Year's Eve party. Your phone pinged to tell you the taxi was arriving, and when you noticed the car pulling up, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Charles.”
“Sleep tight,” he told you quietly, but you could feel there was something else he wanted to say. 
In the end, he remained silent, and you got in the car that took you home. As you sat there with your eyes taking in how magnificent this city looked tonight, you couldn't help but think about how the party turned out. It was nice to get to know him a little better, seeing a side of him that maybe wasn't as visible from the outside as one would expect. If you had known how fun he could be, you probably would have become friendly with him sooner.
184 notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 1 day
Text
Kisses in the Dark
♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader
♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ oral, masturbation, fingering, first time blow jobs, 69. Megs is a lil freaky but sweet. Reader is innocent and down bad for Megumi
♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap: 6.8k
♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ You have been in love with Megumi Fushiguro since middle school, but you, Nobara, Yuji and him are all best friends. You're such good friends you've lived together during college, and you're good at keeping it in, until one night he goes on a date. You end up hopeless, thinking of him, and your vibrator is broken too!! So you try to do things... yourself. Megumi thinks he hears you cry :'( And checks on you! Then decides to help you, as a friend? We'll see how that works!
A/N- first Megumi x reader! Three part story (tentatively- looking like this may be four parts now) lots of fluff, tension and smut, friends to lovers <3 (Gumi and reader are 20 in this)
Part one here Playlist for this
Tumblr media
Part Two
Tumblr media
Your date was sweet, and a gentleman, and…
Boring.
It was boring.
You’re quietly shutting and locking the door in the living room of your little apartment, taking your heels off your tired feet and sighing, walking towards your room down the hall. You hear something then, coming from none other than Megumi Fushiguro’s room, and you pause by his door.
Then you hear it, faint but distinct, moaning. You know what they sound like, he had made those noises so softly in your ear a few weeks ago. Your heart drops as you realize, he must have someone over, maybe that girl he’d gone on dates with? And you hadn’t even kissed this boy good night, he’d gone for it and you’d pecked his cheek instead.
You shouldn’t care if he has someone, right?
You all are only friends.
You should walk away, not agonize yourself, clearly Megumi had been interested in just having a little fun that night, it had gone completely back to normal after all. Now you are trembling, a hand raised to barely touch the cold wood of the door, trailing along the glossy white paint, as you hear it again. His moan.
He’s so sexy you think, as your eyes flutter shut and you exhale, imagining him pumping in and out of you, imagining tasting him, as someone surely was right now. You feel that tightening in your tummy as your desire takes a chokehold of you, as you imagine him, just there. He’s moaning again, soft sounds, and you realize you’ll have to take care of this situation in your room now.
You go to leave when you hear it, clear as day, your name.
Your name!?
From Megumi Fushiguro’s lips, you’re losing it aren’t you? Did that wine from dinner go to your head? Are you delusional? Megumi wouldn’t just moan your-
He does it again, and now you blink a bit in the dark hallway, and you curse yourself for this, but you’re turning the knob, finding it unlocked, and when you peek in you see him. His cock is in his hand, which is huge and long with a pretty pink tip you notice while blushing furiously. His eyes are affixed to something on his phone as he strokes it, from the base to the tip.
He says your name again, then when you walk in and close the door with a click he freezes, his dark green eyes locked on you in shock in the dim room. Nothing is lit but a line of LEDs behind his bed, emitting a soft purple glow in the night, as you lock it behind you, back pressed on it. He stops stroking, but he’s so in shock he doesn’t cover up.
“What the… what…are you!? Doing… what…” You tense now, slowly walking up to him, eyes feasting as you see his shirtless body, well muscled and cut, pale skin glowing in the dark night.
“I heard my name… I…l’m sorry, Gumi I should-” You turn to leave, shutting your eyes as those sexy images will be burned in your brain. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t go.” His husky command makes you pause, when you turn toward him again, and he’s standing, his sweats pulled up now, walking to you. Your breath catches in your throat when he’s so close, you crank your neck back to look at him, at his pretty face in the night, so close you can feel his cool breath against your lips.
“I’m sorry this was… stupid I-”
“You wore the sweater?” He murmurs, and you look down, to where it’s still wrapped around your shoulders.
“Um… yeah. I did.”
Because it smells like you.
Because I’m hopeless for you.
Megumi eases it off your shoulders then, as his green gaze drinks you in lazily, his full lips parted just so, his hands brush your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. You feel your heart pounding nearly out of your chest now, as the big sweater lands on the floor with a soft thud, right around your bare feet. You look down just a bit at it.
“I’m sorry that you heard it.” He says then, and your eyes go wide as they meet his again, you shake your head fervently.
“What? No! I thought at first you had a girl here. I shouldn’t have listened.” You are overheated and flushed, so when his cool fingers touch your skin, you exhale, leaning your face into it. “It was so rude of me.”
“Were you just curious?” He asks softly, and you nod a bit, having so much trouble looking directly at him. You keep staring at those lips, the ones that agonize you with need.
“I guess after you pleasured me I really was curious about pleasing you back.” He blinks then, exhaling, his hands slide down the sides of your breasts, perking your nipples up. “Maybe I can… help? Like you helped me?”
“Ugh… you can’t just say things like that. Looking that way.” He whispers, and your lips purse curiously, making him roll his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I am not so innocent that I don’t want things. But I’ll be unable to do anything… Maybe you could show me? And I could help you feel good?” You touch his bare chest gently, making him tense under your touch, but you feel it, his own racing heart.
“How was your date? Huh?” You giggle at that.
“Now you’re asking me about my date?”
He glares now, his touches stopping for a moment, leaving you empty without his touch. “I am. How was it? Did you…”
“I didn’t kiss him.” You say softly, and you watch his eyes light up now, his hands clenching and unclenching in fists for a moment as he takes a breath.
“Why? Why didn’t you?”
“Um… I didn’t want to.” You’re rubbing one of your arms awkwardly, looking back at the door. “I should go, this was a dumb idea.”
“What do you want to learn?” His husky tone is your undoing, your throat goes dry with just how badly you want him right now.
“You’d teach me, Gumi?” You ask softly, stepping that one step closer, pressed against his hard body now. “As a friend hmm?”
His lips tense, and he’s touching your waist now, his big hands taking it over nearly, thumbs pressing up against your rib cage over the thin black dress. “I’ll eat your pussy as a friend.”
You whine, burying your face against his chest. “Gumi…”
“You’re so cute you know? Acting shy but… you just came here to ask to get me off?” Your hands splay the sides of his hard body, as his slip up your spine, sending shivers down your body. “You wanna cum again?”
“I want to make you cum. I want to make you feel good.” He moans softly, and that sound has you dripping against the black lace of your panties, far too fancy than what you’re used to. “What if you just teach me how? If the thought isn’t too…”
“I haven’t had a blow job.” You pause, looking up in surprise, and see the desire glimmering in his eyes, as he’s damn near holding you in the night, in his little room, all neat and perfect. “I told you I like to please. And… two girls. Not a lot of experience.”
“Oh, if it’s like special I won’t. I assumed…”
“I’d die if you did. I won’t make it.” You giggle up at him, but you just earn his glare, the same one like when you went on that date tonight. “You are bratty still.”
“Can you show me how to play with you then? And if you want more we can try that?”
“I’d rather you sit on my face.” Now you’re a puddle, a complete mess, as those images of something so naughty to you fill your head. “I’ll jerk off while you do. That way you can help.”
“Can we try both? I won’t learn that way.” You pout up at him, batting your eyelashes, and he sighs then, running a hand through spiky black hair.
“You really want me to be the first for that too though?” You nod eagerly, then when he sighs and nods back, you sink to your knees, making him panic, yanking you up then.
“Isn’t that how it’s done?” You ask curiously, and he is shaky as he pulls you over to the bed.
“Sure, but it seems… um… I’ll show you what I do, then you can try and see if you want it in your…” His eyes drop to your lips. “Mouth.”
“Okay. Should I… get undressed? Does that help make you cum?” You ask, and he laughs softly, swiping a hand down his face with an exhausted expression.
“You’re offering to suck me and get naked? I’m dreaming.”
“Why did you um… say my name?” Megumi looks away again, cheeks a bright red for a moment.
“I was remembering tasting you.” His hushed confession makes you throb around nothing now, your chest tight, you can barely breathe, like the room has become too small for you now.
“Y-you were?” He nods, his hands groping yours now, fingers entwined together, and Megumi is clearly embarrassed. But… “I was thinking of you that night.”
“What?!” You nod shyly. “You were?”
“Yes. I know it’s… awkward and weird to have. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Hey, look at me.” He tilts your chin up now. “It’s not bad to… imagine things. Is it?”
“No, it isn’t. Right?”
“Right. And… it’s normal, we’re living together…”
“Right! And now we were … you were…”
“I tasted you.” Fuck.
“Y-yes…” You stammer nervously, fiddling with the strings of his sweats. “And of course, I’m comfortable with you.”
“And I am with you. So this is just…” He trails off then.
“Just friends. That… help each other cum? Is that like… with benefits?”
“Like a friend bonus.”
“Right!”
“Right.” You both speak at the same time, then you both are breathing in quick little pants, as the silent room is filled by them, as your body is shivering, and Megumi’s hands are resting on your shoulders. “But you… I don’t think I should take your virginity.”
“Not as a friend?” You whisper, and he gulps visibly, shaking his head. “So just… other things?”
“Yes, we can do other things. As friends.”
“Like sucking you?”
“Jesus fucking…” He exhales now, grip on your shoulders tightening, looking at you with dark lashes lowered. “You just want to learn how?”
“Yes, please. I really want to. Um… it looks big though. I’m not sure how well I’ll do?” He’s blushing again, leading you to the bed with him now. “It also looks pretty?”
He sputters then, as he gently sits you on the bed, and sighs, cupping your face as he studies you. You hold your breath, enamored by his touch, his scent, how he feels, even his energy. It’s so easy to get lost in him.
“You’re so, so pretty. I should have told you before you left, I’m sorry.” He murmurs now, and you blink back emotion at that, your hands gripping his wrists gently as his thumbs brush your cheeks.
“Thank you, Gumi. That’s so sweet.”
“Looked so pretty I didn’t want you to go.” You gasp, and he’s sliding the straps of your dress down now, exhaling as he sees your lush breasts, about to spill out of your tight dress and low neckline. “Why didn’t you kiss him, really?”
“He was boring.”
He smirks then, looking down at you, from this angle his lean body looks even more cut, the shadows enhancing every line and curve. You trail your fingers down them, and watch his abdomen tense under the touch. “Am I boring?”
“No, Gumi, not at all. Did you um… kiss your date the other night?”
“I did kiss her. But… it was boring.”
You smile a bit, pecking a kiss on his abdomen now, right over his belly button, one of his hands slides to your hair, massaging it with long fingers, you sigh at how good it feels, your hands sliding to his thighs over soft gray sweats. Megumi stiffens just a bit at your kisses.
“Her kiss was boring?”
“It was.”
“Was my kiss boring?” Your thumbs hook in his elastic waistband, and he shakes his head quickly, pulling your hair so that your head tilts back, looking up at him.
“Your kiss was anything but boring. You’re… a very good kisser.” His voice drops an octave, as he’s sliding his hand and helping you shove off his sweats, and now his pretty cock is slapping his belly button, so long and thick, you notice sticky white beads on the tip. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am. If you’re okay with it?”
“Okay with it!? How about I’m dreaming right now.” You flush at that, then he takes your hand and guides it to his cock. You feel it, hot and hard in your palm now, and he hisses. “Fuck.”
“I already messed up!” You freak out then, and he shakes his head, placing his free hand on your shoulder to brace himself for a moment.
“It felt really good. Your um… hand is so soft.” He whispers, and you look curiously at his cock now, sliding your hand to the end of his shaft, thumb curiously pressing on that line on his tip. He groans now, as you smear the pre cum around it, and you look up at him hungrily, thighs shifting to create any friction there.
“Can I…” You dart your tongue across his tip, and he hisses, pulling at your hair hard. “Is that not okay?”
“It’s too good. I shouldn’t even get to have you like this, you’re too much of an angel.”
“Megumi…” You stroke back up to his tip again, making him moan softly now, his hands gently cupping your face again. “Should I put it in my mouth?”
“I’ll die.” You giggle up at his flustered expression, allowing you time to see just how pretty he was, his cock twitches in your delicate hold, pumping up and down softly, just feather light touches. Mehumi’s thumb brushes your lower lip. “Open your mouth, pretty.”
You’re soaked now, it’s hopeless.
You allow him to guide your mouth open, as one hand pumps him and the other is resting on the bed, gripping Megumi’s blankets, a soft tan suede. “Tongue out.” You do as he says, leaning forward more, your breasts nearly popping out of your undone dress, and his nostrils flare as he caresses your face, brushing your hair back.
It’s so intimate then, when he’s guiding his hard cock into your mouth, it’s not like what you’ve watched, he’s sweet and easy, staring right at your eyes as you take him in, as you taste him. His precum is so yummy you suck on it, and he moans, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment, grip tightening on your face. Seeing his face in pleasure makes your core tighten, burn with desire.
“Good girl. Feels s’good.” He whispers now, and you are feeling him swell as you wrap your lips around him, sucking gently. You pull back for a moment, and his eyes open, as his hands enwrap in your hair.
“You taste good, Megumi.” You whisper around his cock, and he groans, his hand shooting to the back of your head, pressing you down further, and you take him deeper into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat.
You’re loving how he’s gripping your hair, how he’s moaning your name, how he’s watching you, and you start to suck faster, bobbing your head and listening to his noises. The sound of your slurping him up intermingles with his sighs, his exhales, as he’s gently fucking into your mouth.
You choke a bit then and he pauses, pulling back and bending down, eyes filled with worry. But they're also dilated and nearly black. “I hurt you!?”
“No, no, I'm good! It just um… hit a spot.” You can hardly speak of such things looking at him.
“I pushed in too deep. Are you okay?”
“I'm so good. It's really um… I like it too much.” He raises a brow, that little smirk on his face now.
“Do you?”
“Should I show you how much?” He nods then and you take his hand, kissing the backs of elegant fingers as you slide up your dress, and guide his hand up. He eagerly finds you then, sucking in a breath as his eyes shoot up to yours.
“You're that wet from sucking me?” His voice is full of wonder, as his fingers rub you over your panties, making you whine out at how much you crave him, nodding weakly, head falling back when he presses up on your little clit over the lace. “I wonder what panties you wore for this date.”
“Wha-mnh!” He's got your dress unzipped now, and he bares you to him, eyes feasting on your breasts, then trailing down. He glares now.
“You wore these for this date?” You shrug, looking down at them.
“Well I thought… I don't know. I can't stay alone and a virgin forever. I guess I prepped? Nobara said I should.”
He grips your hips tightly, pressing his fingers into your flesh, making you wince just a bit. “Did you want him to?”
“I've never wanted anyone to. But you.”
He grabs you then, picking you up and shoving you down on the bed, shocking you with the quick movement, laying on top of you, his hard length hot on your thigh. You're breathless from the quick motion, struggling to breathe under him. Your shaky hands go to his shoulders, eyes wide on his now.
“What's wrong, Gumi? Is that too much to say…”
“I'm mad you wore them. I'm mad you looked so beautiful for him tonight.”
“Gumi…”
“I'm mad I was looking at pictures of you in your bathing suit, picturing you, remembering your taste.”
His words kill you, now you're just whimpering, hips arching up, begging for him. “I didn't want him. I'm mad I don't. I'm mad I keep thinking about that night, when you're totally fine.”
He scoffs, hands sliding down your thighs, lifting them, and pressing one of his thighs between yours, making you cry out at the sensation. “Tch, you think I'm fine?” You just nod, and he grimaces. “I guess I am good at seeming that way.”
“So you liked it too? You didn't wish we hadn't?”
“Liked it? Liked it? No.” You blink in confusion and then he's hovering just over your lips. “I can't get your moans put of my head. Those little sounds you make. How your brow furrows, how your cheeks flush…” You're grinding on his thigh then, and slender leg pressing up, and his jaw tenses. “You're all I can think of. Now I'll have to remember you sucking me. No hope.”
“But you want to be friends?”
“I don't want to lose you in my life. What if i… hurt you?”
“So we stay friends?” He nods, jerky, gulping then. You both are breathless as he hovers over you.
“Best friends.”
“The best. Um… I'll go-”
Megumi shocks you by grabbing your wrists, shoving them over your head, pinning you to the bed with his weight. You whine out, and he groans then, lips just a breath away, noses touching.
“Kiss me, Megumi… please.” At your little plea he slams his lips down on yours, and those tingles shoot through your lips again, as his skin presses against yours, and his hands grip your breasts, making your nipples pebble against his palms.
He tastes so sweet, something minty and something just Megumi, burning your lips as his tongue swirls against yours, drinking in your little cries. Your teeth click as the kiss grows more desperate, as you feel him pressing that leg up even more, and you’re shamelessly grinding against it, trembling with need. A need that consumes you, that takes over your senses.
Best friend.
He’s your friend.
Right?
Megumi’s kissing down your throat now, lips making a hot, sticky trail of kisses and bites, little strings of saliva leaving his perfect lips as he peers up at you, through those lidded eyes. You whine out, your hands gripping his spiky hair, back arching so that he has easy access to your breasts. He starts sucking on them, biting your skin, and when he gets to your nipple you cry out.
“Shh, angel.” He huffs, reaching a hand up to put on your mouth, and you nod then, eyes rolling back as he’s kissing around one areola, before sucking the peak into his hot mouth. It feels so good as he’s nipping it with sharp teeth, and you’re making his thigh completely soaked.
“Gumi…” You whisper, quietly crying out, biting your fist now to stay silent as his other hand is sliding down your soft tummy, it’s trembling under his touch. His moan tickles your sensitive nipple as he pulls back with a pop, peering up at you.
The sight of his elegant fingers gripping a hold of one of your breasts is too much, the sight of his glossy lips parted, his little breaths that come out in pants. You gulp, your throat dry, Megumi’s grip tightens when he removes his thigh, looking down, and you see his bare leg is covered in your slick.
“I’m so sorry, that’s so…”
“Shh.” He’s rubbing you now, studying you as he’s rubbing over those panties, the ones sticking to you, drenched fabric that has your sticky arousal all over it. You whimper pathetically, your eyelashes fluttering, teeth biting your lower lip at the pleasure he brings from a simple touch. “You get so wet.”
He yanks down your panties then, peeling them off you, your knees are knocking as your legs shake, as he’s drinking in you fully naked, running his hands down your entire body then, like an artist with a paint brush. So delicate, over every curve, every line you have, and your breasts are heaving with your nervous breaths come faster with every stroke like a paint brush over your skin.
“You’re beautiful.” You blink back heavy emotion now, your hands nervously running back down his body.
“You make me feel that way by looking at me like that.” Your eyes lock again, his hands pausing their movements, resting on your hips now. “Megumi… I wanted to suck you, remember?”
“I want you on my tongue.” Your mouth drops open at just how sensual he is, kissing you once more, and you’re eagerly grinding, now completely naked when he’s sinking two fingers in you. “You’re so tight… you…”
“Megumi, please. Please.” He smirks a little as he pulls back, those dark green eyes glinting, pecking a little kiss on your cheeks with those full lips, sinking two fingers deeper and curling them. You are blinded as he hits that spot with ease, as he’s pressing it over and over. “Please!”
“Shh, so loud, aren’t you?” He taunts, and you just gasp as the pleasure is overwhelming, and your hands slide down his rib cage, fingers pressing in.
“Please, Megumi… in me. Want you in me.” He falters then, the smirk gone for a moment, and he shakes his head, some hair loosely falling over his forehead.
“No, we can’t do that. It should be special.”
It would be, stupid boy.
I love you, idiot.
“Then… ngh… lemme suck you. You- ah- liked it.” He chuckles a bit, vibrating your chest as he leans down, the mirth back in his gaze.
“So eager to have me in your throat? Though you were my angel.”
“Not… thinking… angelic- ah- thoughts!” He’s making you cum, goddammit, you’re gushing all over his fingers and down his hand, and his jaw is locked now, you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. “Lemme… suck… you… Megumi!”
“Shh, angel, you’ll wake them up.”
“Then shut me up.” He blinks then, and glares a bit, earning your smile, but soon he has you flipped on top of him, your thighs are straddling him for a moment, and you move to grind on him but he’s turning you. “Megumi, wha-”
“Sit on my face.”
Well fuck.
“Megumi!”
“C’mere.” He’s got your thighs on either side of his head, his hot breath tickling your entrance, your hips buck at it, his hands are gripping your inner thighs, shoving them further apart. “There we go. Good girl.”
“You can’t say shit like that and be… my… friend! Ngh!” You’re crying out, head falling as your hands brace on either side of his torso when he’s buried his nose against you, inhaling you.
“Smell s’good. Taste s’sweet.” He is kissing you there, and you’re dripping onto Megumi Fushiguro’s pretty face, turning to see him hard and insistent now, his hips grind up and you lean up on one arm, hand reaching down to stroke him. He groans against you, vibrating on your clit as he’s sucking it in his mouth.
“Ah! Oh my!” Megumi smacks your butt then, shocking you, as he lifts your hips for a moment.
“Shut that pretty mouth.” He’s leaning up again, and you eagerly suck him into your mouth, making him grip you so tightly it’s bruising, sighing against your eager, soppy little cunt. “Good girl, there. Just like that.”
He’s urging you on as you suck him, in this position he seems to go easier down your throat, and he’s back to lavishing your pussy with his talented tongue. It feels so fucking good, as you’re working his length up and down, feeling his cock pulse in your mouth, feeling his hotness, his taste, his everything.
You're shaking now, feeling him thickening even more, your throat tightening around him, your mouth is full, so full of him as he’s pulling you down onto his mouth greddily, tongue devouring every inch, drinking up all the arousal pouring. You cry out around his length, rocking on him and pressing further down.
“Fuck my face, just like that angel. Doing such a good job.”
“Fuck!” You pull back to whine out now, as he’s moving your hips again. “Are you okay down there!?”
“Suffocate me.”
This boy…
“Gumi… cumming!” You whisper, and he groans, as you lick the precum pouring from his pretty tip, and he’s spreading your lips even wider, flicking the underside of your clit with the tip of his tongue. You bite back a scream, damn near convulsing over him now.
“Cum, then.”
Did he have to keep saying shit like this!?
So you are cumming, your body is just pulsing everywhere as it washes through you, and he's swirling his tongue around your clit as you’re shattering over him, pussy throbbing around nothing, pouring all over him, so messy. You cum so hard it’s embarrassing. You're shaking all over, gripping his cock tightly, lavishing a messy open mouthed kiss on his length.
“Megumi!” You’re so sensitive as he’s licking you through your orgasm, one of your hands is digging into his thighs, nails leaving crescent marks on pale skin, his cock jumps as you suck on the tip again, moaning around it.
“I could do this all day, fuck.” He huffs, leaning back and taking a breath that you feel puff against you, sliding his finger down your slit. “Your mouth feels so good… mmm yes, focus up there.”
“Here?” You suck right on the underside of his tip, and he hisses, spreading your messy wetness up and around your entrance now.
“There, there… you sure you havent!?”
“Absolutely sure. I’m doing good?”
“Killing me.” He nips on one of your puffy lips, making you shiver as he does, and you suck him further down your throat, going as far as you can until he’s choking you, and he’s pumping his hips up. You feel his silky hair against your inner thighs, his hands digging into your skin. “Angel, I’m close.”
“Good.” You say between thrusts in your mouth, pulling back for a moment.
“No, don’t wanna… cum in your…”
“I want to taste it.”
Fuck, why do you have to say those things, act this way? As your arousal is dripping out of your tiny little hole, and he’s lapping it up like honey, your hot mouth sucking his cock in, and fuck it feels so good, Megumi has never felt anything like it. You’re consuming him, as your thighs clench either side of his head, as your lush breasts press on his abdomen.
As your little pink tongue is sliding up the underside of his leaky tip, the one that just hit your uvula, his cock jerks at the sensation.
“You want to swallow, angel? You sure?” He asks, and you nod eagerly, he peers down at you as he tilts to the side, your hair is tickling his thighs, falling like a curtain over him as you stare at his cock, and he hears your little sext sounds. You make these sounds from the back of your throat he can’t handle.
Fuck he wants to slide into this perfect cunt.
You begged him to, but how can he? He’s already gone so far, and to lose you makes his chest tighten in fear. But now that he’s had you like this, now that he’s felt you like this? Now that you’ve cum all over his face, now that you’re sucking his cock deep in that tight throat…
You’ve ended him.
“Please cum in my mouth. I can do it.” You hear him curse under you, it is tickling you, as you brace yourself on his thighs now, shoving your hips back. “I’ll cum with you, if you want.”
“If I want!? Jesus fucking… okay but if you don’t like it just pull back.”
“I’ll like it.”
“Cum with me then. Bring this pretty pussy back on my mouth.” He’s shoving you back down again, and now he’s fucking you with his tongue, in and out of your entrance, as his chin shoves against your little clit, making it twitch as you’re cunt tightens around the wet muscle of his tongue.
“Gumi! I… oh my! I…”
“Shh.” He shoves his hips up, plunging his cock in your mouth, and now the room is crackling with energy, with desire, filled with your moans, as you’re grinding your sweaty body against his own, they’re slick as you’re grinding over him, as he’s gripping your ass and fucking you so good you can’t take it.
You’re cumming all over his face again, this time even harder, so hard you feel weak and spent, your eyes rolling back in your head as you breathe through your nose. Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, feeling him impossibly thicken, and then he freezes his thrusts, and they get jerky, and you feel him cry out desperately against your soppy cunt.
He’s pulsing in your mouth, and you start to feel him cumming, spurting hot liquid, runny and sticky, salty tasting almost, down your throat. You pull back just a bit as you start swallowing it, as it’s coming in bursts and strings, and you feel his mouth stop moving as he rides out his own climax.
He pulls back, groaning so loud, head falling back on the pillow as his hands glide down the outsides of your thighs and you’re swallowing him up. Finally his movements cease, but you’re still sucking him off, swirling your tongue around him, hearing him cry out, kissing your cunt with sloppy kisses.
“F-fuck… sensitive… angel…”
“You made me sensitive.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his tip finally, it’s softened just a bit now, and he laps up more of your own cum, making you squeal and wriggle, as he pins your hips down.
“Teasing me huh?” You giggle breathlessly, but it dies when he’s humming on your clit once more, and you bury your face against his abdomen, screaming out as you cum one more time, and this time it almost hurts you’re so sensitive.
You feel his chuckle, as he taps you a bit then, helping you up, but planting kisses on your ass, your thighs as he does. “Gumi I’m jello.”
He is smirking at you when he spins you back around, and you catch yourself with your hands on either side of his face, straddling his torso now. You both laugh a bit, flushed faces and drunken eyes, one of his hands brushes your hair behind your ear, tucking it back as the rest falls loosely.
You both don’t speak then, not when he feels the heat of your pussy against his belly button, not when you feel his heart thudding under your breasts, not when you both are just breathing, staring at each other. It’s silent, as you all kiss then, kissing in the dark just like before.
“So… do we do this all the time, if we’re friends with…”
“If you want.”
“I want… do you?”
“You have to ask?” He presses up and you flush as you realize he’s hard again. “Of course I’d like that. But… if you get serious with someone, then we should stop.”
“Yes, exactly, we’ll stop if either of us do.”
“And no fucking.”
You pout and he’s chuckling. “None at all?”
“No, you deserve a special first time.” His words make you ache, your heart crushed, as you ache to say it.
I love you Megumi.
But you don’t, you can’t, can you?
“Can we kiss again?” You ask, and he nods, then you’re kissing his soft lips, tasting yourself on them, as he tastes you, and soon it’s heated again, like a force neither of you can stop, until he pulls back, breathless. “Sorry. Carried away.”
“Stop apologizing. Not even mad you were being a perv and came in.” You scowl, earning his grin, white in the night, so rare that you see him grin like that, and not just an upturn of his lips.
He’s breathtaking like this, under you.
“You did it first.”
“I was worried, you were being perverted.”
“Me!? Mister ‘I’ll show you how’ uh-huh.”
His eyes narrow, lips pursing. “Brat.”
You stick your tongue out, earning a little smack, then you sigh when you see just how late it is over on the little clock but Megumi’s bed. “I should let you get some rest. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“Was worth it.” You heat up at his tone, at his praise. “I’ll eat you out every day.”
“You liked that blow job don’t lie.”
It’s his turn to blush, as he sits up, still holding you, and you imagine for a moment how good it would feel to sleep in his arms. You shake that thought away, along with the thought of how good his cock would feel, how big it is, how full it would make you. You can’t stop the little whine that escapes you again.
“Sore or anything? I wasn’t so gentle with my fingers this time.”
“Oh, no I liked it. Don’t worry. A lot.” You look down, and he’s easing you off him, hopping off the bed and picking up your dress. He helps slide it over you, the silk flitting over your overheated skin, zipping you up carefully before sliding on his sweats. “My panties are ruined.”
His lips quirk up, as the hollows of his cheeks have shadows from the night, just enhancing the lazy beauty of his face, and you can’t stop yourself from falling even harder for him. It grabs ahold of you when he helps you to stand, on wobbly legs, and his eyes rake over your form.
“Can’t walk?”
“I sure can, jerk!” You shove at him, but then you wobble and he has to hold you, his breath against your cheek. You peer up at him then. “You think it’s funny.”
“It’s just cute.” He taps your nose, and there’s too much left lingering between you now, too much unsaid that you can’t bring yourself to speak on. “So is this what we do now, barge into each other’s rooms?”
“We’ll see I guess, hmm? Maybe the next date will be good.” He glares now, and you enjoy it, enjoy him feeling jealous, it makes you feel so much, you can’t explain. You peck a kiss on his cheek then. “Night, Gumi.”
“Yeah, yeah. G’night.”
Tumblr media
One week later
“You sure you don’t wanna watch the zombie marathon you two!?” Yuji asks, his light brown eyes wide as his lip trembles.
“Nope.” You say.
“Nah.” Megumi says.
“Nobara, pwease!” He’s on his knees, and she rolls her eyes then, shoving at him.
“No way!” She huffs, and Megumi sips on his soda, smirking at them, before his eyes land on you, and it changes. His look, his gaze, wanton and lustful.
You all had not spoken of what happened again, though things were different. In the morning as you brushed your teeth, he would press against your back just so, and he’d brush your hair for you, looking at you in that mirror, tall over you, behind you. He’d brush his hand on your waist if you passed in the hallway, press on the small of your back as you would walk past.
Little touches, eager touches.
It was like the boy knew how to torture you. And he was just waiting, waiting for you to cave, to ask, but you were trying to stand firm, as much as you desire him, you don’t know how much control you have, how much you just… want him. Need him. As more than he was.
But your resolve was wearing low, and even his presence had you hopelessly pulsing inside your constantly eager pussy, which now was donned in lacy crotchless panties. Yeah, you were hoping that maybe he’d get the hint if you bent over in those at some point, it was kind of a tease move, but you weren’t good at chess like Megumi.
God even now how he’s just licking that soda off his lip?
Fuck.
“Oh fine, I’ll go, if you buy me whatever I want at the mall.” You struggle to focus, and look over at Yuji, who’s hugging her so tightly she’s choking. “Off!”
“Yay!” He exclaims happily, and you all laugh as they get ready to go.
Once you and Megumi are… completely alone, which doesn’t happen often, you try to play it cool, taking several breaths. You’re popping on some music, and starting to figure out what to make for dinner, bending down to look at what you have in the fridge. When you stand up and turn, you see Megumi there, his head tilted to the side.
“Megumi Fushiguro, were you staring at my butt!” You shove playfully, and he just comes closer, gaze raking over every curve you have.
“I saw your panties.”
You’re blushing so hard, looking down at your skirt. “Perv!”
“Me huh? You’re wearing those and bending over around me?” He shoves the fridge door shut, then you’re pressed against it, cool metal on your skin making you shiver as you look up, caged between two lithe, strong arms.
“What, you think they’re cute?” You tease him, and his lips part, his hands clenching to fists on either side of you.
“You wear them for me?”
“No, Megumi, for the ghost of the apartment.”
“You’re extra bratty. Didn’t cum enough angel?” His hand reaches right between your thighs, cupping you then, and your eyes shut, your hands gripping his soft white tee shirt, as you cry out. “Answer me.”
“Yes, for you Gumi… who else? You liked the black ones…
“I’ll get a good look.” He’s on his knees suddenly, and looking up your skirt, you lift it up so he gets a view, of crotchless dark blue panties, his breath is hot against your inner thigh as he looks up at you hungrily, long lashes casting shadows under his eyes, which had dark circles under them.
You grip his shoulders nervously now, letting your skirt fall, for him to shove it back up, bunching it around your hips. “You like them?”
“They’re slutty.” You blink at that, at his possessive tone. “Better not wear them anywhere but here.” You raise a brow then, smiling softly.
“Oh but we’re friends, right? So…”
“Nowhere else.”
“Megumi- ah!”
He’s swiping his tongue up your slit now, and you can’t take it, you just can’t… you need him, need him so bad. He’s spreading the lips of your sex, pulling your thigh over his shoulder then, swiping up even deeper, looking up at you as he does. Drinking you up right in the kitchen, under your skirt, against the fridge.
Megumi Fushiguro.
Your… friend?
Tumblr media
This may be more chaps then I thought lol. Hope you all enjoy!!
255 notes · View notes
rodolfoparras · 15 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Sharing is caring
Pairing; Unspecified Male character x Male reader
cw: 18+,, top male reader, bottom male character, dom male reader, sub male character, fwb
Synopsis: in which you’ll happily share him if it means you’ll have him by the end of the night
I need you 
When you first received the text you thought he’d needed help, breath caught in your chest, pulse roaring in your ears as you raced  to get there.
What you didn’t except was to be met with the smell of sex lingering in the air, clothes scattered about on the floor and the man you’ve been hooking up for the past couple of weeks laying stark naked in front of you.
Instead of being absolutely horrified at being caught in such intimate position, the man in question only further spreads  his legs, showing you his puckered rim that’s all puffy and leaking 
“Jesus Christ ” you choke out, brain practically on autopilot as you lock the door behind you  and walk up to the other man.
“Please, please, you- I - just-“ he manages to splutter out, looking at you with watery eyes, his poor abused hole clenching around nothing.
Despite his incoherent words you already know what he wants, sharp smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you walk closer.
“You just got fucked and you’re already wanting more?” You say,finger tentively stroking through the furely rings of muscles.
“ ah!- didn’t - didn’t get to cum wanted ah- wanted you to fuck me ” he croaks out, body practically writhing from just the small touch.
“That so?” You say, and hook your thumb onto his rim, pulling on it slightly just to watch more cum trickle out of him.
A soft gasp escape him as cold air caresses clammy skin, hips automatically bucking up into your touch, which result into more cum gushing out. “Yes yes yes- just - Please don’t tease, waited so - ah so long for this”
“Jesus Christ ” you murmur out, not wasting another second to slot yourself between his thighs, quickly getting hit with his musky scent, lingering so heavily in the air you can practically already taste him on your lips.
“Please-“ he croaks out but doesn’t get another word out as you lick a long stripe along the cleft of his ass, tongue all warm, and wet on the sensitive skin and now coated in the tangy taste of him.
“Oh- oh god, please!” He gasps out, sounding like the breathe’s been punched out of his lungs as he pushes back onto you.
You give another experimental lick, tongue languidly circling his rim just to watch in amusement as he withers on the sheets.“Ah- fuck, need more come on come on!”
“So demanding,” you say but despite that you swiftly slip your tongue inside him, licking and prodding on the sensitive walls of nerves till strangled sounds are escaping his mouth, legs firmly locked onto your head to keep you from moving away from him. “Go-god just like that, keep going, fuck!”
With each flick, you taste someone else on him, can practically smell the other men on his skin, and if you look close enough you can see marks blooming on the most sensitive parts of his body.
But instead of getting upset, you feel yourself getting riled up because of it, now eating him out more vigorously.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he manages to splutter out, cock leaking like a broken faucet against his stomach.
It doesn’t take much before you add a finger to the mix, practically making him feel like he’s being split open on your lips “God gonna- ah gonna cum,”
You don’t respond instead you continue your onslaught of thrusts, even going as far as to slurp on his weeping rim like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted - the obscenity of the act along with the erratic thrust of your tongue and fingers is enough to tip him over the edge, ears ringing, world blurring out as blinding hot pleasure surrounds him “cu-cum-“
It takes him a while to catch his breath, the world still one big blur as he lays there with cum pooling on his stomach.
“You alright there?” You say, while running a soothing hand down his sides.
The man in question only manages to hum in response which makes you laugh “good because I still have to fuck you”
200 notes · View notes