#she is the small spoon 2 me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stillmonsterz · 9 months ago

Text

be with her tonight

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut

summary: every week, you go to the same coffee shop for their great service and wonderful drinks. but for some reason, the barista has always rubbed you the wrong way. he seems harmless, though.

contains: unprotected sex, rape, noncon, somnophilia, drug mentions, lying, swearing, johnny is there, mark is there, twitch mention

word count: 5.0k (unproofread)

---

Heeseung’s eyes were shifty, his hands trembling over the paper cups. He plucked one off, a grande, and started to prepare the same familiar order. Despite his quivering hands, Heeseung went through the motions of making the drink with the utmost of effort. A small splash of hot coffee dribbled from the spout onto his hand; he scarcely noticed the pain.

He set the cup down on the counter and surveyed the small cafe where he worked. Patrons were settled into small wooden tables, the windows were bright, and succulents lined the windowsills. Heeseung tugged at the collar of his black button-up and adjusted his apron. His coworker, Sunghoon, noticed him and smirked.

“Is she coming again today?” Sunghoon asked while he restocked the croissants in the pastry display.

It took a few seconds for Heeseung to process that Sunghoon was talking to him. “Huh?”

“That girl, what’s-her-name…” Sunghoon conspicuously slipped a small brownie bar into the pocket of his apron.

“Oh,” Heeseung said softly. “I dunno…” Of course you were coming today. You came here every Wednesday and Friday at 2:00 pm, during your lunch break. Your favorite coworker was off those two days, so you ate alone and got yourself a coffee and a pastry. You were coming today. Heeseung had to see you again.

When 2:00 arrived and you hadn’t walked through the doors with your usual vivacity, Heeseung got nervous. He begrudgingly served some other people whose faces he couldn’t have recalled if he had been paid to do so.

2:15 and Heeseung’s hands shook even more. Sunghoon was already glancing at him strangely, so Heeseung busied himself by wiping down the counter. Why weren’t you here? He only got to see you twice a week, so he savored the time where he got to drink in your face, to inhale your scent that percolated so harmoniously with the ubiquitous scent of coffee.

As the second hand slipped to 4, a cold chill spread all over his body and he felt as though someone had forced him to swallow a handful of nails. They sat in his stomach, tearing apart the delicate lining, puncturing holes in his organs, ripping him apart from the inside. It was Wednesday. You were normally here by now. What had happened?

The drink he had made you in advance was getting cold.

Had you switched coffeeshops? Had you forgotten about him? What if you hated him? What if you had caught onto him?

Heeseung swallowed hard; he dug his jagged nails into the palms of his hand. “Sunghoon…” he began quietly, “I think I’m going to step outs-,”

The door opened and you stepped inside, waving at Heeseung. The nails melted away and were replaced by spoonfuls of honey, soothing his throat, filling him with golden light.

“Hi,” you said, pulling your purse out of your wallet. You glanced over at the forgotten drink resting on the counter. “Oh, was that mine?”

“I’ll make you another one,” Heeseung said, far too quickly. He unceremoniously dumped the drink into the sink and started bustling about in the kitchen. Once he was facing away from you, a grin split across his face, and he had to restrain himself from giggling. You hadn’t forgotten him! You had come back. While he pulled himself together, Sunghoon input the order into the machine before wandering away, presumably to take care of more customers. Whatever.

Heeseung lifted his head up to face you again.”The same as usual?”

You nodded and grinned. “Same as usual. You know me so well.”

If only you knew, Heeseung thought. “You were late today- I mean, you came in later than you, uh, normally, arrive, at the uh, here. Why?” Heeseung wasn’t known for his eloquence on a normal day, but you rendered his vocal cords obsolete, his frontal cortex inoperable.

“Oh, well, had a long day at the office,” you said, tapping your card on the reader. “Another useless meeting from HR.”

Heeseung wished he had something clever to say, something that could win your heart, make you love him. Instead, all he could offer was, “That sucks.” He bit his lip and got another grande cup so he could remake your drink.

“It does suck,” you said with a wry smile. “How’s your day been?”

You were asking him how his day was, too? Heeseung nearly dropped the cup as he pumped syrup inside of it, and he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. “It’s been…good. Good. A little busy.”

“Well, busy is good,” you said. Then you cleared your throat. “Hey, I was going to come over on Saturday with a…friend of mine. What time do you think would be the best? You know, so it’s quiet?”

Heeseung carefully pressed the lid onto the cup, scrunching his nose as he thought. “Probably…I’d say 5 pm-ish? Most people don’t really want a coffee around that time.”

“Good to know,” you said, placing your wallet back into your purse. Heeseung admired how confident your motions were, and his eyes lingered on your hands. When his eyes flickered up to your face, he realized that you were looking at him.

Desperate to seem like he wasn’t ogling you, he stammered out, “Y-your friend…does she work at the same, uh, place as you?”

“He actually works down at the insurance company, the one on Smithson?” you kept talking, but Heeseung couldn’t hear a word. His blood ran cold, and his vision went blurry. Him. He. You were going to have your date here? You must despise him.

Heeseung thrust the cup in your direction. “Uh, enjoy,” he murmured, looking away from you.

“Thanks, Heeseung! You have yourself a good day,” you said brightly before leaving.

Heeseung felt Sunghoon put a hand on his shoulder, heard him ask if Heeseung were okay. “I feel sick,” Heeseung whispered. “Could I step out for a bit?” Heeseung didn’t actually hear Sunghoon’s answer, but Heeseung was already leaving, stripping his apron and casting it aside someplace in the little break room. He tugged his worn leather jacket on and went outside. The sun stung his eyes so he lowered his gaze to the ground. Heeseung sat down on the concrete step leading into the back room and fished his lighter and cigarettes from his jacket pockets.

He took a long drag as he tried to calm down, but it was difficult. Every time he thought about your date with some other guy, he started to feel strange. Beyond his initial panic and feelings of abandonment, there was something else nipping at him. A feeling he couldn’t quite place, but it was harsh and red and ragged.

Heeseung wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t normal. He knew that his fascination with his pretty customer was irrational, and deep within his heart, he knew that you didn’t belong to him. Yet at the same time, Heeseung knew that you should belong to him. Already, he could read your emotions so well, and that was just after quick interactions twice a week for 3 and a half months. Heeseung would do anything for you, just so he could bask in your sweet glow.

Normally, the world was cold and boring. Everything was predictable and trite. Heeseung couldn’t remember a time in his life where there had been any novelty. Talking to people wasn’t fun to him at all; navigating the labyrinthine social rules that others seemed to understand effortlessly just made him feel confused and worn. All throughout elementary school and middle school, even into high school, Heeseung had been ignored and ridiculed. He couldn’t decide which was worse. Even at his menial barista job, people purposefully averted his gaze.

Not you, though. You had given him a bright smile and had even dropped money into the little tip jar. Most importantly, you had awarded him his first compliment. Despite his current misery, Heeseung smiled at the memory. You had sipped the coffee he had made you, your eyes had lit up like a little kid’s, and you had said, “You make great coffee, Heeseung.” When Heeseung had protested shyly, you had continued. “No, no, this is really good. You have a knack for this, you know.”

Heeseung took a long drag off of his cigarette as he sulked. Tears pinpricked his eyes at the thought of you disappearing from his life. Of course, he figured he could always spy on you at work (he had spent hours trying to find your LinkedIn based off of your first name), or maybe break into your house and hide under your bed (he had followed you home from work a few times.) but it just wouldn’t be the same. What made him happy was that you chose to come see him. There were a lot of cafes near your workplace, some even closer than Heeseung’s, but you came to his. Even if it wasn’t for his personality, you liked the coffee that he made. You chose him, but now you were choosing some other guy. And if this date went well, then you might disappear from his life.

Salty tears streamed down his sallow cheeks, and Heeseung swiped them away with his free hand. That feeling simmered within him, festering within him like rot. Angry. That’s what he was. Angry, upset, mad.

Heeseung couldn’t let you disappear. He couldn’t let you go.

He stubbed the cigarette out on the step and started coming up with ideas.

Then Heeseung smiled.

–

You pursed your lips in the mirror as you applied your red-tinted lip gloss. You had your coffee shop date at 5, and you wanted to look nice. The way you saw it, it was a win-win: you got to get a free coffee and pastry out of a guy, and you could finally subtly let Heeseung down without having to acknowledge his feelings for you at all.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Heeseung felt something for you. Ever since you had complimented his coffee, his dull eyes had developed a shine whenever he saw you. He always made your coffees with the utmost of care, which was one of the reasons why you kept coming back instead of going to another place. And, of course, you’d be lying if you said that his attention didn’t flatter you in some small way. Heeseung wasn’t necessarily unattractive. If he did something about his lank hair, stopped fidgeting so much, and could string together a sentence without stammering, he’d be passable. Even cute. That wasn’t the problem.

It was the same thing you had told your friend and workmate just before she had proposed the date idea. “He’s just…creepy,” you had told her over a shared Cobb salad. “Something about his eyes.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she had said, snapping her fingers. “Like they’re empty, right?”

“Exactly,” you had said, relieved that she understood. “Empty. It freaks me out.”

Your friend took a bite of salad and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “So stop getting coffee from there.”

“No can do,” you had replied. “Gotta take you there sometime. The coffee is amazing.”

“Okay, well, just tell him to back off.”

You frowned. “Technically, he’s never actually said he liked me or done anything or anything, so…”

“Subtly hint that you have a boyfriend?”

“I’m a bad hinter.”

Your friend groaned. “You suck, you know that?”

The two of you had hemmed and hawed over the dilemma before she had offered up a solution: Find a guy from the office, ask him out on a coffee date at that exact place, and make it seem like you were enjoying the date.

So now you were in your bathroom, tucking the front of your sweater into your skirt. As you were posing one last time, you got a text from your date, Mark. He had texted you a succinct “yooooo i’m pulling up 😬”, so you locked up your apartment and walked out.

When you got to the coffee shop, you were initially worried about Heeseung’s reaction. He looked like a sad little deer when he got upset. You shook your head slightly to get those aberrant thoughts out. You were here to get him off your back, anyways. So that the creepy barista wouldn’t get any ideas and you could keep enjoying some of the best coffee in this part of downtown.

You needn’t have worried, though. Heeseung was kindly towards you and your date. He had even taken your coats at the door and hung them up on the coat rack at the front. He had plied you with pastries, and even stuttered out a, “T-take care of her, she’s a good one” to Mark. When you glanced at the counter, you could see Sunghoon smiling at Heeseung as he brought out refills of coffee and dusted extra powdered sugar onto delicate little desserts.

Mark looked at you with glee as he dug into his second croiffle. “Nah, this place is dope,” he said, crumbs surrounding his lips. “I see why you come here every week.” You hadn’t bothered telling Mark about Heeseung. It seemed a bit cruel to use a guy to get rid of another unsavory guy.

You reached out and rubbed some of the crumbs from his mouth, hoping that Heeseung would see you. “Yeah, it’s great. Maybe…” you lowered your voice and leaned in, “this could be our spot, you know?”

Mark gently reached out and took your hand. “Why were you wiping my nose, weirdo? Did I get crumbs up there?”

“Huh? I was wiping your mouth…” you reached out with your other hand to touch his mouth, but your arm started to feel a bit heavy.

“You okay?” Mark frowned as his eyes scanned your face.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Drink a little more coffee,” he suggested. “It’ll make you alert and shit.”

As you sipped your drink again, you realized that the drowsiness wasn’t going away. Even though you had downed a whole grande latte, you felt like you were about to

–

You slumped over the table and Heeseung had to suppress his smile. This part had to be perfect. He called your name and strode over to the table. Mark was just sitting in his chair, frozen. “What happened?” Heeseung asked, trying to make himself sound worried. His naturally anxious tone actually helped him.

“N-nothing, she just…fell over,” Mark said, staring at you. “I dunno, she must have had a long work week. Or she’s anemic, women are always anemic.”

Heeseung made a show of checking your pulse on your wrist and on your neck. Getting to touch your velvety skin, and not just a quick brush of hands when he handed you a coffee cup, was exquisite. He could already feel himself getting hard, so he had to move fast.

“I’ll take her to my place,” Heeseung said, already lifting you out of the chair. Mark quickly stood up, blocking Heeseung’s path. Heeseung bit back a groan.

“Nah, shouldn’t I, you know, take her home? I know her from work,” Mark said, crossing his arms. He looked from Heeseung to you to Heeseung to you as though he were following a ping-pong match.

Heeseung sighed and attempted to try using that wheedling, condescending tone some male customers had used on him sometimes. “No offense, but when normally, a pretty girl like this passes out on a date, it’s not because of a-anemia.”

Mark stepped back, holding his hand to his heart. “Ay man, are you tryna say that I roofied her? I’m not like that!”

“Yeah, well…” Heeseung pushed past Mark, carrying you in his arms. “I don’t know you, do I?” Then he paused and turned around. “Tell you what. You give me your number, and after she gets a little more rest, I’ll call you so you can pick her up, okay?”

Mark nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good, thanks.” He told Heeseung his number, and Heeseung carefully repeated the numbers in his head. “I think I’mma head home, thanks for the…hospitality.” Without his jacket, Mark stepped into the cold and ran to his car.

As Heeseung was leaving, he called out to Sunghoon: “Cover me until I get her some medical help, okay?” Sunghoon gave him a curt nod, and Heeseung left the coffee shop.

With some difficulty, he managed to get you buckled up in the front seat of his old clunker. Now that he was alone and no one could see him, Heeseung could finally smile. The way you were sitting here, all dolled up, it almost seemed like you and him were on a date. You were going on a drive together after a date at the coffee shop, and you would be going home with him. Heeseung carefully adjusted the car seat so that you were reclining, so it would look like you were just napping.

“Carbs will do that,” Heeseung said sympathetically, rubbing your hand. “Make you tired. You should know better, baby. You come here all the time.” He stroked your warm, soft hand, and he ran his fingers along your sweet little cheeks. The hand that caressed your face slowly fell to your chin, then your neck. “You look so pretty. You always look pretty, of course, but you looked really pretty today. All for me.”

His hand slid all the way to your chest. Heeseung hesitated; he was risking everything, and he didn’t have much time to execute the rest of his plan. Just one kiss, he told himself, just one. Heeseung leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, ever so gently. It made him shudder, the sweet taste of chocolate lingering on your lips. He wanted to keep going, but he would have to wait.

As Heeseung drove to his apartment, one hand rubbing your thigh, he congratulated himself on his ingenuity. It hadn’t been easy to coordinate this plan.

–

First, he had had to figure out who you were cheating on him with. That wasn’t hard; you had foolishly Tweeted: “sooo excited for Saturday!” and “onyour_mark” had replied with a devil emoji. A cursory flick through his Twitter account offered Heeseung an informative, if not somewhat nauseating, look into Mark’s life. Heeseung found out that he worked the same hours as you, but he was on a separate floor. He lived with a Twitch streamer, Johnny “suhcondem” Suh, who streamed on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. As he scrolled through Johnny’s Twitter account, Heeeung found that Johnny had once complained about his fans sending them dildos, pizzas, and other “weird ass shit.” Perfect.

After that, Heeseung had searched for Mark’s Instagram. Thankfully, Mark had posted a picture of his outfits in front of an open window. Utilizing a combination of Mark’s own descriptions of his neighborhood and Google Earth, Heeseung had found Mark and Johnny’s apartment complex within three hours of tireless searching. He could extrapolate the floor from the basic positioning of the tree, and after scouring Mark and Johnny’s social media accounts for more descriptions of their living space, he had narrowed their apartment to a potential unit.

Now came the more difficult part. Using Tor browser, Heeseung was able to access a site where he could purchase some Rohypnol. It cost a pretty penny, but Heeseung wasn’t about to experiment with other roofies and potentially ruin his chances of having you. He ordered it on Wednesday, and on Friday he had two packages sitting in front of his door, one small and unmarked, the other a lettermail package. Heeseung used gloves to pick up the white package and take out the white box. He couldn’t have his fingerprints on it, after all. The other package held precious cargo: a used Papa John’s uniform with a pizza carrier.

Next, he had to plant evidence in Mark’s room. On Friday, he begged Sunghoon to cover his shift, citing violent diarrhea. Heeseung knew that Mark would be working, but Johnny would be streaming all day. Heeseung changed into the Papa John’s uniform, threw his jacket over it, ordered a meat lover’s pizza from Papa John’s, and drove a few blocks away from Mark’s apartment complex. No way was he going to risk people seeing his car.

Heeseung placed the pizza inside of the carrier and headed to the apartment. He was nervous about getting inside, but thankfully an older couple let him inside. With a tremulous hand, Heeseung pressed the button for Mark’s floor. If he screwed this up, then Mark would get to have you. The thought alone spurred Heeseung on to keep going.

He walked to Mark’s door and rang the doorbell. After a full, heart-wrenching minute, Johnny opened up and gave Heeseung a slow once-over. Johnny was wearing a baggy hoodie that said “I ATTENDED SUH CON AND I GOT THE LONG JOHN” with sweatpants.

“Uh… meat lover’s pizza for Johnny?” Heeseung said tentatively.

Johnny groaned. “Dumb ass chat gotta stop buying me pizzas,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Heeseung asked, shifting his weight between his feet.

Johnny shook his head and waved dismissively. “Sorry man. I uh, I stream on Twitch, so a lot of my fans like to send me shit. I didn’t order this.”

“Oh,” Heeseung said contritely. “Well, I can’t exactly keep it…”

“Why don’t you eat it?” Johnny asked, leaning his arm on the doorframe.

“I’m vegan,” Heeseung lied.

Johnny chuckled. “I can tell. You skinny skinny.”

Heeseung laughed awkwardly. “Right, yeah.” He shifted again, and he could feel sweat pooling under his armpits.

“What, you gotta piss?” Johnny gestured at Heeseung. “You’re dancing like you gotta go.”

“Oh, yeah,” Heeseung said, trying not to appear too eager .”I drank too much, uh, soylent.”

Johnny stared at Heeseung like he was an idiot. “Whatever. You can use the bathroom. Use the one in my buddy’s room, actually. Don’t need chat to hear someone piss.”

As Johnny stepped aside to allow Heeseung to enter, Heeseung fought to keep himself in check. The apartment was as sparsely decorated as a Twitch streamer and male office worker’s living space could be. Which is to say that the only notable decorations were Johnny’s streaming awards that were strewn on the walls and Mark’s bible on the living room table.

“You can just put the pizza down there,” Johnny said, pointing at the kitchen counter which was already littered with a variety of take-out boxes and greasy bags. “Down the hall and to the right for Mark’s room. Make it quick. Mark gets weird when people go in there.” Johnny retired into his own room, and from the clattering noises he made, Heeseung figured that he was going back to streaming. As Heeseung hurried into Mark’s room he heard Johnny say, “Chat, you’ve been very, very bad…”

The first thing Heeseung did was take some rubber gloves from his pocket and tug them on. Then he scoured Mark’s room to try and find condoms. They weren’t in the bathroom, they weren’t in his nightstand, and they weren’t under his bed. Heeseung searched desperately for them, before he found them behind his pillow, along with some lube. Just how much fucking does this guy do?

Heeseung inspected the box and was pleased to find that him and Mark were actually the same size: Mark used Trojan larges. Then Heeseung frowned: him and Mark were the same size. Heeseung had always been proud of his size, but now it didn’t feel so special. No matter, Heeseung thought as he removed a condom from the pack, I’m the one who’ll fuck her. He slipped the condom into his pocket and made a note to purchase the same brand of lube. Heeseung went into the bathroom and pulled out the flattened Rohypnol box from a Ziploc bag he had kept in his pocket. He placed it inside of Mark’s trash can and covered it up with some tissues he found in there. As Heeseung searched, he found a tissue coated in Mark’s dried semen. Couldn’t hurt to have it. Heeseung put it in a spare Ziploc and kept it for later. It was nasty, disgusting work, but it would pay off.

Finally, Heeseung did actually use the bathroom. All this stress made him piss a river.

When he left the apartment, Johnny didn’t even notice. Heeseung had actually done it.

–

Now Heeseung gently carried you into his apartment. It was still early, so thankful there weren’t a lot of people milling around.

He laid you onto his bed, and your head hit the headboard as he lowered you. “Sorry,” Heeseung said apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby.” Heeseung kissed your forehead. He could wash your forehead, but for the next part, he figured he should put on some gloves. Rummaging around in his nightstand, he found more latex gloves and tugged them on.

Now that he finally had you, he didn’t actually know what to do. Should he take off your clothes first, or his? He decides to disrobe first, so he could take his time with you. Quickly, Heeseung tossed off his work clothes, throwing them into his dirty laundry pile. His room was about as bare as Mark and Johnny’s living room had been, but once you were his, he would decorate it however you wanted.

Heeseung forced himself to take his time as he popped your skirt buttons, one after the other. It was the kind of skirt that opened from the front, so when he was done, he could part the skirt off of you, admiring your panties.

“You wore this just for me?” Heeseung asked softly. God, he wished he could touch you, skin on skin, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He ran his finger along your clothed pussy, and he trembled from the white-hot flames he felt licking at his cock. Patience, he told himself. Patience. Your sweater came off next, and Heeseung folded it up into a neat square and set it to the side.

Heeseung pulled the condom he had filched from Mark’s room onto his cock,wishing he could just go in raw. At least Mark used ribbed. Then, he got the lube from his nightstand and slicked his cock with it,making sure it wouldn’t be too hard to slide in.

He couldn’t believe it. There you were, so pliant, so vulnerable, so his. Of course, now that he was hovering over you, he couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt he felt. As he tugged your panties down, he kept whispering apologies. “Sorry,” he said as his cockhead tapped your entrance. “I’m so sorry,” he said while marveling at the way his thick cock bulged your stomach.

Heeseung moaned so loudly he thought for sure the neighbors would hear. But he didn’t care, even though he should. How could he care? He had never experienced anything like this. Your pussy was gripping him so tightly, its walls enveloping his cock so warmly, he couldn’t care about anything else. With some effort, he pulled out of you and drenched his cock with even more lube.

He plunged back inside of you and gripped your hips, admiring the way your tits jiggled as he fucked into you. As he took your pussy, it dawned on Heeseung that he wasn’t being very romantic about this. “Sorry,” he said, feeling like an idiot. Heeseung pulled out of you and used his gloved hands to put you in a more sensual position. He would just have to wash the places where your bodies touched. He put you on your side and crawled behind you, so that he was spooning you.

He groped at your tits as he slid inside of you again. This much was much better. Ever since you had told him that you were going on a date, Heeseung had been edging himself for hours so he could last longer, just for you. He did it all for you.

Heeseung started going faster, pounding your cunt harshly. A part of him was sad that you wouldn’t remember this. No, you would wake up scared, wondering why Mark had done this to you. You wouldn’t even know that Heeseung had given you the most passionate fucking of your life. His headboard smacked against the wall as he pushed himself into you from behind. Using his gloved hand, he turned his face towards his. Your face looked so peaceful, and seeing it only made him go faster. The bed creaked as Heeseung relentlessly thrusted in you. He could feel you getting looser and wetter, accommodating his dick.

Heeseung felt himself bottom out, hitting the firm muscle of your cervix. He couldn’t stop now. Heeseung gripped your tits, loosening his grip when he remembered that he could leave handprints, and thrust up and down. He could have spent all day in your pussy, but he didn’t have much time left.

His balls smacked into your thighs as he felt his orgasm approaching. It was unlike any other orgasm he had had; he had never felt so in-tune with his body, and the sensation burned. Heeseung grunted and pulled out of you before he came inside the condom. Heeseung rolled off of the bed and laid on his carpet, panting.

Soon, he would get up, wash himself off, then wash you off. Then, he would call Mark and say that you weren’t waking up. While Mark drove to his place to get you, he would use the cum he had extracted from Mark’s tissue, wet it with water, and smear it in your pussy. As soon as Mark had gotten you, Heeseung would dispose of the used condom and wash his sheets. After half an hour, he would call Sunghoon and say that you and Mark had forgotten your coats.

Undoubtedly, Sunghoon would find the bottle of roofies that Heeseung had planted in Mark’s jacket.

Heeseung sighed, completely content. After this, you wouldn’t trust men again, let alone Mark. Except, of course, for the man who had taken you home, tried to take care of you, and had called the police on Mark, the man who had assaulted you.

Heeseung couldn’t wait for you to wake up.

#enha smut #enhypen smut #kpop smut #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader

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adieutristana · 1 month ago

Text

general relationship headcanons | arcane women x fem! reader

summary: general headcanons for dating arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, maddie.

tags/warnings: fluff, mentions of poor mental health, smoking, drinking, mentions of war and death, minor season 2 spoilers. slightly suggestive? lots of fluff.

jinx;

✧.* you are without a doubt jinx's first partner. she has never really seen herself in a relationship, never thought that was in the cards for her. until you came along, of course.

✧.* it takes jinx a while to process the fact that you're in a relationship. that you want to be with her, and you enjoy her companionship. she's so used to being perceived as bad luck to everyone, and those close to her dying. so when it finally does set in that you truly do like her, she'll do everything in her power to show her love to you. part of her will always think you're too good for her, though.

✧.* jinx is a very devoted lover. she lives and breathes for you, she worships the ground you walk on. she's constantly checking in on you, touching you somehow, or talking your ear off simply because she enjoys your company.

✧.* however, jinx is also a very jealous lover and can get possessive. she doesn't necessarily mean to be that way, but it's her head telling her that you'll find someone better. that you're too good for her, and some other pretty girl will come sweep you off your feet. it'll take jinx a while to get used to your friends and not think that they're trying to plot how to steal you from her.

✧.* with this, jinx is fiercely protective over you. if you're out together and get hit on, or you rant to her about somebody who's been bothering you, she'll have it 'taken care of' within a matter of hours. she won't tell you what that means, but you won't see or hear from the person again.

✧.* jinx wants to involve you in her world! that's one of her biggest ways of showing her love to you. she'll pull up an extra chair so you can watch her or help her with her newest contraptions. she'll invite you to tag walls across zaun with her. she'll tell you about all of her battle plans, giggling all the way. as if she's not discussing something that could cost her her life.

✧.* overall, jinx is rather unconventional in a relationship (and in general) and shows affection through her own unique little ways.

✧.* "i wish i could crawl inside you and be with you forever.. that'd be nice. huh? why are ya looking at me like that?"

✧.* jinx is very touch-starved. although she is very resistant to physical touch at first, she quickly comes to love it. it's reassuring for her, being able to touch her partner. feel them. they're real, and they're not going anywhere.

✧.* jinx's favorite forms of physical affection are kissing, holding hands, and cuddling. there'll be times where you're in the middle of talking to her (usually about something important) and she'll stop you mid-sentence with a cheeky kiss.

✧.* "what? your lips are right there." she giggles.

✧.* when it comes to cuddling, jinx enjoys spooning, and laying her head on your chest. being able to hear your heartbeat is relaxing to her. although jinx is a small woman, she almost always insists on being the big spoon. she doesn't care if you're a head shorter than her or a full foot taller, she just wants to be able to hold you close.

✧.* jinx is incredibly playful. she'll play pranks on you, like coming up behind you to tickle your sides, or sneak glitter bombs into your bags when you're leaving her base. she loves to see your reactions, and she loves to keep you on your toes.

✧.* she loves to make little gifts for you. if you mention needing a new speaker, she's got you covered. the next day, she presents you with a small speaker, decorated in jinx's typical colorful grafitti. she'll make music boxes that play off-key versions of your favorite songs, and she'll doodle on basically everything you have. it's a way to show that she cares, and seeing your reactions make all of the work worth it.

✧.* jinx loves pda. she gets to both show off her wonderful girlfriend, and remind everyone that you belong to her. two birds with one stone.

✧.* you're one of the only people that jinx lets braid her hair. they say that hair holds memories, and for jinx, that is absolutely true. her hair is incredibly important to her, so you knew she trusted you when she let you braid it for the first time. she lets out a gentle sigh as she feels your nimble fingers working softly through her hair, and you can see her body fully relax. she's still and at peace for a few moments.

✧.* jinx is not good with words. at all. communication is one of her weakest traits, so you'll have to be patient with her. if she's upset, she'll usually just hold it in. she'll take off randomly, or end up holding it in until it bubbles over (and then she apologizes profusely). this gets better with time, but for a while, jinx doesn't know how to express her emotions or concerns in a healthy way.

✧.* jinx needs constant reassurance. as mentioned, she has a difficult time regulating her emotions. she's constantly overthinking, having nightmares, and hallucinating. those all decrease significantly while she's with you, but they never fully go away.

✧.* "you're not gonna take off in the middle of the night and find someone else, are you?" jinx asks, her pink eyes full of worry.

✧.* "no, love. i'm here to stay. i promise." you reassure her, pressing your forehead to hers gently.

✧.* jinx loves pet names. being called them, and calling you them. her favorites are 'toots,' 'trinket,' 'baby,' 'doll,' and 'beautiful.'

✧.* calling her anything with 'my' in front of it causes her to positively melt. 'my dearest,' 'my love,' 'my girl,' the whole nine yards. yes, remind her that she's yours.

vi;

✧.* vi is a generally rather inexperienced lover. while she's had the odd fling and situationship, you're likely one of her first actual girlfriends.

✧.* with this comes her being unsure about how to navigate a romantic relationship at first, but she quickly gets the hang of it. vi is a natural.

✧.* despite her tough exterior, vi is a lover girl at heart, and she's ecstatic that she finally gets someone to share that love with. someone as incredible and perfect as you.

✧.* tease, tease, tease. she'll constantly have you on edge, your eyes wide and cheeks heating up. whether that be by peppering light kisses on your neck while you're trying to work, or whispering into your ear something along the lines of, "you're so beautiful, darling. tell, just how do you do it?"

✧.* she's also very playful and competitive. vi is likely to challenge you to a playful sparring match, and she gets very into board games. girlfriend or not, she'll show no mercy.

✧.* vi reserves most of her affection for private moments. the farthest she'll go in front of other people is likely just holding your hand. she believes that the way she holds you, the way she whispers sweet nothings against your lips is nobody else's business.

✧.* that's not to say she won't brag about her beautiful, amazing, talented, smart, perfect girlfriend to anyone who will listen, though.

✧.* vi has a lot of walls up, and guards her emotions. although she'll likely open up to you eventually about her worries and past, it'll be very gradual, in small amounts. she isn't used to being vulnerable, especially not feeling safe to be vulnerable.

✧.* despite this, she does communicate well and values honesty and trust. she believes in cutting problems at the source. if something is bothering you, tell her. if you need something from her, tell her.

✧.* vi is very strong, and won't hesitate to lift you up while giggling. she'll lift you to sit you right back down on a countertop, snaking her arms around your waist to begin pressing soft kisses to your lips.

✧.* vi doesn't hesitate to let you know how important you are to her, to reassure you that she loves you more than anything.

✧.* "y'know, i spent all day thinking about you. waiting for when i could see your pretty face again. you have no idea how much you mean to me..."

✧.* it may come as a surprise, but vi is very much a morning person. she generally prefers to wake up by 6am, getting an early start to her day and brewing coffee as she watches the sunrise. it's a little bit of quiet time before all the chaos that comes with the day. it's not rare for you to wake up without vi, but if you walk into the kitchen and sit down beside her, she'll wordlessly lay her head on your shoulder.

✧.* vi constantly returns home bruised and sore. she'll be eternally grateful if you bandage her, and if you gently kiss her wounds after patching them up, she may just melt on the spot.

✧.* although, or because she's constantly injured, vi has a very high pain tolerance. she'll often undermine just how much discomfort she's in because she's just so used to it. muscle tension, cuts, scrapes. part of this is also vi not wanting to worry you.

✧.* vi loves acts of service. if you mention that you're overwhelmed by the amount of cleaning you have to do, you don't even have time to say anything before she's doing it for you. she'll try to cook for you, although she's far from great at it. the point is that she cares.

✧.* however, she doesn't really like receiving acts of service. part of her feels bad, and she feels like she owes you in return.

✧.* vi does tend to come home drunk from time to time, and the frequency increases when she's having a particularly tough time mentally. although it's not healthy, it's a temporary relief. she'll never get wasted, but you may have to help her sober up fairly often.

✧.* vi also adores pet names. her favorites are 'baby,' 'gorgeous,' and of course, 'cupcake.'

✧.* sorry, but i think you'd need to remind her to wash up. vi is pretty much always covered in some kind of sweat or grime, and genuinely just forgets to take a shower after a long day sometimes. she's tired.

✧.* it's no surprise that vi can get rough. her hands tangle in your hair, she squeezes your hips while kissing you, her lips slamming into yours as if her life depends on this moment right now.

✧.* "god, baby. you don't know how much i needed this."

mel;

✧.* mel is pretty experienced, but none of her past relationships have really lasted. mel is a woman who knows what she deserves and knows what she wants, and none of her previous suitors have fit the bill quite right. you find it hard to rationalize how you have.

✧.* if you're with mel, be prepared to fully commit to her. mel sees casual dating as a waste of time and energy, and wants nothing but complete devotion. she dates to marry.

✧.* as gentle as she is, she'll remind you of that often. don't waste her time, don't waste her energy, don't take her companionship for granted.

✧.* mel is a busy woman. as much as she wishes things could be different, she has a job to do and a city to stay loyal to. there may be days-long, or even weeks-long periods of you not being able to see each other.

✧.* however, she'll still find ways to show her love and devotion to you when you're not physically together. it's not uncommon for you to get deliveries of extravagant, expensive bouquets to your workplace and/or home. complete with a note that reads something along the lines of, "i miss you most ardently, dearest. don't forget me, i'll be with you soon."

✧.* mel spoils you to absolutely no end. she's the richest woman in all of piltover, why wouldn't she? if your eyes even linger on something at a shop for a few seconds, or you mention needing something in passing, it's immediately yours. no ifs, ands, or buts.

✧.* mel has zero problems communicating how she feels with you, and expects the same from you. unfortunately, if you're unable to express yourself through words like she is, she becomes a bit upset. reassure her that you're trying, and she'll have patience.

✧.* naturally, she also has no problems having uncomfortable conversations with you. that's a major part of her job, after all: having uncomfortable conversations. usually it's something about an unfavorable decision the council had to make, or something weighing heavy on her mind about your relationship. mel wants to talk it over and be done with it.

✧.* mel loves nighttime. it's probably the only time she gets to herself, so she'll cuddle up to you in bed, pressing soft kisses to your temples and whispering her adoration. "you're so, so beautiful. so perfect. so lovely. everything that i need."

✧.* mel smells heavenly. she has an extensive skincare and hair care routine that she stays on top of. think warm vanilla and honey.

✧.* mel is also, in general, very calm and soft-spoken. it takes a lot to get her worked up enough to raise her voice or lose her composure outside of council meetings.

✧.* mel loves kissing. kissing, kissing, kissing. kissing your knuckles when she hasn't seen you in a few days. her lips capturing yours almost desperately while one hand cradles the back of your head, the other placed on your waist. kissing your neck lazily in the mornings while you're both still half-asleep.

✧.* naturally, with her position comes a great amount of power. you have mel's protection from anything or anyone that could put you in harm's way.

✧.* easily one of the most supportive partners you can ever have. she'll let you ramble on and on about your interests, support your newest ventures, and financially support you when possible. ultimately, mel just wants to see you happy. she honestly thinks there isn't a thing you can't do.

✧.* she tries not to let it show, but mel does get jealous. very, very jealous. you're hers, what are you doing going around piltover with unsavory characters? she'll clench her fists by her side, trying not to let her envy show on her face.

✧.* "darling. i thought i told you not to be in these parts of the city." she says, her expression completely stern.

✧.* mel values knowledge. she's constantly trying to learn new things, partly to feel enriched, and partly for her job. it's not uncommon for her to curl up in your lap with a recently-published book about current happenings, or ancient history that could assist her decision-making.

✧.* mel writes you letters very often. expect at least 6-page long letters, on paper lined in gold leaf with the neatest penmanship you've seen in your lifetime. she pours out her heart to you in each letter, telling you her deepest joys and fears both. she signs each letter with a kiss, her lipstick lingering on the bottom of the page.

✧.* mel absolutely refuses to engange in any kind of pda. not only does she find it unbecoming of a woman in her position, but she becomes flustered quickly. it's adorable, honestly.

✧.* however, whenever the two of you are alone, she's entirely yours. body and soul.

sevika;

✧.* sevika is very experienced, to the surprise of absolutely nobody. she's a regular at local brothels, and knows her way around relationships. she preferred to only ever have casual relationships, or so she thought.

✧.* once she's yours, she's yours. sevika completely stops going to brothels and entertaining other women. she is fiercely loyal to you, her devotion never wavering.

✧.* sevika is incredibly touchy. she always has to be touching you somehow. whether that be a hand firmly gripping your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder, or her thigh touching yours. it brings her a sense of security.

✧.* sevika is very strong and heavy-handed. there's no chance of her not accidentally leaving bruises on you by just grasping your arm, or pulling you in for a hug after a particularly dangerous mission. she apologizes profusely, swearing she didn't mean to hurt you, no matter how much you tell her it's okay.

✧.* she does learn to be more gentle over time, she's just not used to handling someone in an affectionate way. battle has toughened her.

✧.* she won't dare admit it, but you bring out the softie in her. she'll grumble as you lay your head in her lap, reaching up to interlace your fingers with hers. don't mention the way her heartbeat audibly quickens, she'll deny it until she can't anymore.

✧.* "i am not flustered. cut that out." "oh, but you're so cute like this!"

✧.* sevika loves pet names and nicknames as well, but also won't dare admit that. she particularly loves it when you call her 'sev.'

✧.* in return, she'll call you 'my pretty girl,' 'darlin', 'hun,' and 'babe.' the classics, nothing too fancy.

✧.* sevika doesn't have a lot of energy these days, as she gets older and battle takes more and more out of her. so those tranquil moments where she simply gets to lay with you, kissing the corner of your lips and whispering praises to you are some of her favorite. give this poor woman a break, please.

✧.* it takes sevika forever to open up to you. it already took her ages to admit that she had romantic feelings for you, so don't expect her to easily voice her feelings or worries.

✧.* even when you can tell something is wrong, she'll almost always brush it off. "don't worry 'bout it, babe. i'll be fine."

✧.* until she's not, and all she wants is for you to hold her. she'll simply slot herself in your arms and rest her head on your shoulder, embracing you in comfortable silence. yes, that's enough for now.

✧.* while she's not really one for pda, sevika will absolutely show you off to anyone and everyone, regardless of whether they want to pay attention. she totes you around like you're a prize- her pretty girl, who everyone can look at, but only she can have.

✧.* sevika doesn't really get jealous. she trusts you, and she trusts that you know exactly who you belong to. she doesn't mind you hanging out with your friends or even exes for prolonged periods of time, you know where home is.

✧.* she is very possessive, though. she trusts that you'll stay in line, but god help you if you ever let a hug with a friend linger for too long.

✧.* once sevika does open up to you, it's like an entirely different woman. she's telling you how grateful she is for you, how she never imagined she'd know a love like this.

✧.* "i never thought i'd... deserve something like this, you know? but you get me. you see me."

✧.* you're probably the one who cut her hair. she just decided she was tired of it, and came up to you with a pair of haircutting scissors, not saying anything. you were a bit hesitant, unsure if this was an impulsive decision or what she really wanted. but you were happy to help.

✧.* sevika loves to just... admire you. you're so beautiful, she can't help it. but tell her she's beautiful, too. she hasn't heard it nearly enough in her life.

✧.* she often comes home smelling of smoke, but as time (s2) goes on, that stops. she decided her health was more important, even if she couldn't undo the damage of years of smoking. you helped her come to this decision, although unconsciously.

maddie;

✧.* maddie has only really had flings and friends-with-benefits situations in the past. you're her first actual girlfriend, but she's determined to be the best girlfriend you could possibly ask for.

✧.* maddie looks like a total sweetheart. and she is, to an extent, but looks can be deceiving.

✧.* maddie is nothing if not a tease. she'll blow cold air on the back of your neck just to hear you yelp, she'll stop short just before kissing you to tell you something completely stupid and unrelated. she loves seeing your reactions, she thinks they're adorable.

✧.* "and then commander said that i needed to adjust my posture, it was unfit for an officer. i mean, can you believe- oh, you wanted a kiss? sorry, i didn't realize!"

✧.* maddie is very protective, and very confrontational. especially when it comes to you. if someone is making you uncomfortable, she'll get right in their face and tell them off then and there, her usual peppy voice dropping an octave.

✧.* maddie is pretty good at expressing her feelings and communicating, but doesn't really make it a point to do so. it comes up when it comes up. she mentions how she's feeling in passing.

✧.* overall, she's pretty unpredictable. she likes to keep you guessing when it comes to your relationship.

✧.* of course, maddie's loyalty is unmatched. she knows a thing or two about devotion as a junior officer, but when it comes to her dearest girl, she'll genuinely lay her life down before she ever thinks of leaving you.

✧.* maddie is a busy woman, but will make time for you, no matter what. even if that means showing up at your door disheveled and tired right before midnight, not seeming to care about how tired you look.

✧.* quality time is incredibly important to maddie. time is money for her, as is for piltover, and she intends to give you the most time she can. she'll often drag you along on walks along the city, talking your ear off about whatever adventures she was up to in the hours previous.

✧.* i'm not sure why, but i think that maddie would really enjoy reading. she'd curl up next to you, your arm draped around her as she softly reads aloud from the novel in her hand. it's peaceful, the way her voice is so quiet and she yawns every few sentences.

✧.* maddie cuts her own hair, undoubtedly. with dull scissors. she employs your help, though, in making sure that it's all even and looks presentable.

✧.* "come on, i don't need anything else. these scissors work fine, y'see?"

✧.* probably one of the most chaotic sleepers. she hogs the blankets, elbows you in her sleep, and snores, loud. she'll apologize while giggling in the morning, but something tells you she's not actually that sorry. it just adds to her charm.

✧.* she does love to hold you, though. she'll tuck your head into the crook of her neck, one hand through your hair and the other on the small of your back. no words uttered, no words needed.

✧.* loves pda. she won't miss a chance to show off her beloved, and cover her pretty face in kisses in front of all of piltover if she gets the chance. you're hers, aren't you? that's something to be proud of!

✧.* maddie knows piltover like the back of her hand. she often takes you to her favorite spots, 'hidden gems,' as she calls them. she'll tell you all about the history of the specific place, all while holding your hand and clinging tightly to you.

#arcane x reader #arcane x you #imagines #jinx x reader #maddie nolen x reader #vi x reader #mel medarda x reader #sevika x reader #reader insert #sapphic

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seospicybin · 4 months ago

Text

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

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ceesimz · 9 months ago

Text

Golden Key To The Sweet Life

Part 2

There was something intoxicatingly endearing about the way Alexia interacted and whole-heartedly cared for her family and friends' children. Not to say you expected anything less, but you had been addicted to seeing it when you first met her and you are still addicted to it, if not more, now that you were a good few years into your relationship with her. Everytime you saw her with another's child, or when she would visit the Barca youth teams, or simply just talk with a young fan who gazed up at her like she was the Queen of the world, something ignited in your heart. Something strangely akin to the feeling of being homesick.

Over the course of your relationship, you two had had countless conversations about having children in the future. However, it was always ended with you both saying 'one day', it was never a concurrent topic. It was a dream, an ideal, never a reality.

But you just could not get it out of your mind anymore; the thought of her with your own children infiltrated your mind everytime you looked at her.

"Ale, I think I would like to have children soon."

It was blurted out whilst you both manuevered around the kitchen as you made a birthday cake for your friend's son and Alexia prepared some other small dishes to take along to his party. You saw the taller woman freeze in your peripheral vision but you were too nervous to look at her, so you continued mixing the ingredients in the bowl, acting as if you hadn't just said the words she'd secretly been thinking recently too. Then, to your surprise, she marched over, took the wooden spoon from your hand, placed it back in the bowl, and tenderly cupped your face.

"What do you mean?" She asked in an odd tone, scarily similar to the one she used when you would argue. It was hushed, flat, low, and slightly strict.

"I, um... I think we should talk about... us having kids together. Soon." You replied, your cheeks red under her hands. Her nostrils flared and her eyes went slightly wide.

"You mean that?" The look in her eyes was almost pleading, and it gave you a bit of hope.

"Yes, I do." You cover her hands with your own. "I really want to at least talk about it, properly, with you. Not right now, but soon. Please."

She stays silent for a few more moments. You both just look at each other wordlessly, but you are frustratingly unable to understand the countless emotions in her eyes right now. That is until she moves suddenly, picking you up and hugging you tightly, burying her face in your neck and releasing a shaky breath. There are words being mumbled into your skin but you can't hear them too well, too busy focusing on the feeling of her around you and the prospect of the future you'd dreamed of since you were young happening sooner than you thought it ever could.

"Ale, I can't hear you." You laugh lightly, but then your breath catches in your throat when she moves her head back to look at you with tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, Ale."

"Yes, yes, yes. I want children with you, soon, I really do." Alexia whispers as she presses her forehead against yours, her eyes squeezed shut to keep in her emotions. "Nuestros propios hijos pequeños. No se me ocurrió nada mejor." (Our own little children. I couldn't think of anything better.)

That was the moment that decided it all, the moment that sealed and stamped your future. A few months later and you had gone through the early processes of reciprocal IVF. Your individual health screenings had thankfully given positive results that would ensure your plans for the process could go ahead.

It had been a worry for both of you, admittedly more for you, and there had been multiple sleepless nights and midnight discussions to quell your worries. Your decision to carry wasn't one out of convenience for Alexia's career, it was something you were certain on since you had your first thoughts of being a Mother, but that didn't stop Alexia from worshipping the ground you walked on at the selfless decision.

As Alexia had been there to comfort you, listen to you, and reasurre you when you had appointments and insecurities, you were there for her and squeezing her hand during every injection she had, as well as her egg retrieval appointment. She had been worried for quite some time about it, but in the room, she felt quietly excited. All the moments she'd imagined of herself with children of her own felt within reach now. The tears in her eyes weren't from discomfort or pain, they were from hope and excitement of what was to come.

Unfortunately, the first transfer didn't result in a pregnancy. It was heartbreaking of course. You both knew the chances of it working first time weren't that high, but that didn't soften the blow any less. It took about a week before the melancholy lingering in the air of your home left, but after spending crucial time together to come to terms with the news, you were both ready to begin the process again.

This time around, on the 11th day after your second transfer, you woke up with a strange, knowing feeling in your gut. Alexia had left some time ago for morning training, she had woken you up briefly with softly whispered words and a kiss to your forehead, before you fell back to sleep. But as you properly woke up, a thought immediately washed over you. It caused a little bit of anxiety and you probably should have waited until Alexia got home, but you had to find out before you got her hopes up. You bet that she hadn't properly let you in about her heartbreak the first time so you wanted to do everything to prevent her from feeling how you guessed she did.

So, throwing caution to the wind, you went to the medication cupboard and grabbed an emergency box of hCG urine tests before rushing off to the bathroom. You hadn't checked your phone at all this morning, you hadn't eaten or drank anything, you didn't even know what time it was. There was one thought and one thought only that consumed you.

Once you had prepared it all, you set the strip down on the counter and washed your hands. You sat in unbearable silence for about twenty seconds before you heard the front door open. A shocked gasp left your mouth before your hands could cover it and stop the sound.

"Just me, amor!" Alexia called out softly in case you were still asleep.

She headed straight to the kitchen for a snack, not knowing the huge secret you were harbouring just metres away in the downstairs bathroom. You figured there was no escape now, you just had to bite the bullet.

"Alexia, come here please!" You shouted in an unsure, breathless voice, unable to move from your spot on the bathtub rim with a shaking hand over your mouth still.

Alexia frowned at the slightly panicked voice shouting her, so she quickly made her way to the room you were in, chewing through half a mouthful of banana as she went.

"Sí, bebé, estoy aquí, what's wro-" She cut herself off when she noticed you and the test on the counter. Her eyes widen, causing you to panic.

"I am so sorry for doing it without you, I just had a really weird feeling and-"

Alexia shushes your tearful ramble and sits beside you, wrapping one arm around your back and ushering your face into her chest with the other that she places on your cheek.

"No, no, no apologies, I am here now. No apologies, just calm down." She whispers gently as the hand on your back slowly rubs up and down. Her eyes stay wide and focused on the strip on the counter, unsure of how long it's been there but she dispels her anticipation and focuses on you. "You say you felt weird, in what way?"

"I, I don't know, I... I just woke up with a strange feeling in my stomach, like in my gut. I had to do a test, even just one of these ones and not even a proper pregnancy test, I just had to know." You speak anxiously, moving your face back from her chest to wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

"Okay, that's okay. This feeling, is it like a sick feeling or a thought?" Alexia questions, tucking some hair behind your ear.

"A thought, a gut feeling." You sniffle, resting your forehead against her neck.

"Okay. I want you to know I'm not mad or anything like that. I'm just happy to be here with you for this." She reasurres you, pressing a firm kiss against your hairline.

"I am too. But... if it hasn't worked again, I didn't want to disappoint you." You mumble insecurely, fresh tears falling again.

"Hey, no. Don't think that. I could never be disappointed with you, I would only be disappointed with the world. Not you, never you. Never ever. I promise." Alexia responds in a stern but soft voice, squeezing you tight against her.

"Thank you. T'estimo, Ale."

"I love you too, so much." She smiles at you when you look up at her again. Quickly, she kisses you lightly once, before grabbing the box of tests off the counter. "How do we read this? What number means pregnant?"

You grab your phone and get up the screenshot you'd taken minutes earlier of which measurements meant what.

"Twenty-five means pregnant." You show her the image and she reads it carefully, over and over and over, giving you insight into how desperately she wants this.

"How long has it been going?" Alexia asks, her leg beginning to bounce as the nerves creep in.

"Maybe two minutes or more? But I think we should wait a bit longer to make sure whatever the result is is certain." She nodded in agreement and put the box back down, gently using a hand to tilt your chin to look up at her.

"Remember, amor, whatever this result is, it is still early. It has only been eleven days, there is still a chance, okay? If it's good, that's amazing and we will ring the nurse to try and get an earlier blood test. If it's not good, it's okay. We will deal with whatever happens." Alexia softly reminds you, a reminder for her too, to not get too disheartened (though that it is impossible in such a situation).

"I know. I have to be though." You say the last sentence ever so quietly, but Alexia catches it. She has no more words to say though, still so unsure what the 'right' way to go about this new life experience is.

Silence falls over the room, settling heavy over you both as you hold each other and think through your individual prayers to the world in your minds. It's not until Alexia grows impatient that she stands up and takes a deep breath, standing in between your legs and cradling your head.

"I adore you, guapa. Whatever this little thing says, I will still adore you. I will probably love you more after this no matter what the result is." She states.

You nod, tears still present in your eyes, and stand up beside her. With one arm wrapped around each other, you both smile, before turning your attention to the test on the counter. The air is still in the room, the world paused and faded, all the attention on this tiny strip that held the most important information in the world.

"Twenty-three." You mumble dejectedly. Alexia grabs your phone and gets up the screenshot.

"Mira, bebé, it says anything here is a 'grey area', it's still higher than we would expect and we are doing this early. I think that could be good news." Alexia explains shakily. Once you've read through the information on your phone, your head whips around to look up at her. She meets your gaze, a small and positive smile gracing her face. "I do think we should ring the nurse."

"Really?" You choke out with a quivering bottom lip, desperately trying to suppress the wave of hope that washed over you at Alexia's words.

"Yes, really."

"Oh my." You breathe out, knocking your phone out of her hand carelessly as you hug her tightly. "I might be pregnant."

"You might be pregnant." Alexia repeats in a shuddery voice, eyes stuck staring at the small test on the counter that might just have changed her world for the better.

Thankfully, to prevent days of anxious anticipation, the nurse agrees to carry out a blood test the following day. It's a game day for Alexia but luckily it's at home and later in the evening. She could be going into it with the excitement of an expecting mother, or she could be filled with suffocating disappointment. It's a contrast she doesn't want to think about, the game later that evening the last thing on her mind as her hand holds yours tightly on the drive to the appointment.

Her hand doesn't leave yours unless it's absolutely necessary, and even then she's very hesitant. But, as you lay on the bed with a hand over your eyes whilst the other is still held by Alexia, a heavy feeling of dread and doubt settles. The past 24 hours had been overwhelmingly positive; neither of you allowed a moment to think anything negative. Maybe it was naïve to do that, but the prospect of it all was so utterly exhilarating that you hadn't allowed yourselves to think of the next mental steps if it you weren't pregnant.

Now though, you were drowning under the weight of it all. Alexia had noticed, of course she had, but she was suffocated by her thoughts too. There was nothing either of you could say, it was simply just a waiting game.

Waiting, waiting, waiting, the ticking of the clock on the wall being a constant reminder of the meaningful depth of the moment. Time was a precious thing, of course, but right now it felt like the biggest dampener of all.

Neither of you knew how long you had been sitting silently for, plagued by the scale of the event, but then the nurse walks in and announces she has the results, causing you to snap out of your mindset.

"Are you ready to find out?" The nurse asks, offering no hint of emotion.

"No." You whimper almost silently. Alexia turns to you and goes to comfort you immediately, but she's interrupted.

"It's good news."

Your hand falls from your face as you sit up fully, eyes wide and tearful. Alexia can't tear her eyes away from you until you nudge her, bringing her back into the room.

"I can confirm you are indeed pregnant."

Your body collapses in relief and you fall back against the bed, hands covering your face again as you sob happily. Alexia rolls you onto your side and rests her forehead against yours, tears also falling from her too.

"Tienes un bebé ahí dentro, amor." Alexia cries, almost in relief. One of her hands is on top of your head whilst the other rubs up and down your side comfortingly. "Nuestro pequeño bebé. We are a family now."

You both relish in the great news until you calm down enough to allow the nurse to give you advice on ensuring your health is as best it can be for your pregnancy to go as smoothly as possible.

Later that day, when Alexia scored in her league game at the Johan, you shook your head disapprovingly when Alexia surreptitiously rubbed her hand over her stomach whilst gazing at you in the audience as she walked back to her position. Nobody knew about the news, nobody could know for weeks, and Alexia was pushing her luck with the celebration. You couldn't stay angry for too long, never towards Alexia, and all thoughts of irritation were forgotten when, at the end of the game, she ran up the stands, enveloped you in a tight but sweaty embrace, and whispered the most heart-warming words you'd ever heard her say in your life. People gave you puzzled looks when you pulled away from her with tears in your eyes, but that didn't matter. The bubble that the two of you had was perfect.

Alexia took the advice of the nurse a bit too literally. As if she wasn't doing it already, she did everything possible for you. Cooking meals full of the right nutritions, buying the best pregnancy vitamins, trying to do all the house chores herself (you couldn't let that one slide though), and sometimes literally carrying you whenever she could. On a bad day, did it wind you up? Yes, but she had the best intentions and when the hormones weren't overriding your mind, you appreciated every single act of care and kindness from her.

As you got closer to the 7 week mark when you would have your first scan, your anxiety grew tenfold. You were a stickler for doom scrolling, and varying websites and forums had argued a thought that was the root of your worry: the chance of miscarriage was higher with IVF. Alexia of course tried to dispel your concerns, but unfortunately this was one of them things that you just couldn't get over.

So the relief you felt at the first ultrasound when it was confirmed your baby was growing strong and healthily, was overwhelming. And as soon as you heard the heartbeat, you were a goner. Whether it was the hormones or just how much this meant to you, the overjoyed tears didn't stop all day. Leaving the building with a recording of the heartbeat and a strip of ultrasound photos, neither of you can recall a time where you were happier.

Keeping such a huge secret felt impossible. You had told your parents and Alexia had told her Mum and sister a few days after you found out just so you had a support system in case anything went wrong. The senior staff of the team at Barcelona also knew in case Alexia had to put everything on hold in case of an emergency, and it was the same with your work. But other than that, everyone else was none the wiser.

At least, that's what you thought.

"Amor, I have something to admit." Alexia sighed as you both climbed into bed one night during your eighth week of pregnancy.

"Hm?" You hummed, laying down and resting your head on her shoulder.

"Don't be mad." She grimaced, one arm behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. You frown and hold yourself up on one elbow, your other hand landing on her cheek to turn her face to look at you.

"Tell me. I doubt I'll be mad." You told her softly, and your smile automatically decreases her worries.

"Well, Mapi was the one who helped with my injections whenever I was at training." You nodded affirmatively. "I may have told her... today, at training, that you are pregnant."

"Ale, when are you going to tell me about this geeky smile that hasn't left your face?" Mapi teases her best friend as both of them tidy up the field after training.

"There is nothing, Mapi." Alexia argues, but the aforementioned smile graces her face as she does so.

"Come oooon! Tell me, I think I have a guess, but I want you to say it." Mapi grins, throwing an arm around Alexia's shoulders and nudging her in the ribs.

"I can't tell anyone yet." Alexia mumbles.

"Say it, Ale." Mapi sings in her ear. "I will not tell anyone, I promise."

"You tell anyone and I will kill you, María." Alexia says sternly, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring down at her.

"No, won't tell anyone." Mapi puts on an innocent face as she holds her hands up in surrender.

"Vale." Alexia sighs, looking down at the ground for a moment before turning back to Mapi with the biggest smile she's shown to her. "We are almost eight weeks pregnant."

Mapi screams out of pure excitement and jumps onto Alexia, the taller woman not expecting it which led to them both toppling to the grass in the middle of the empty pitch.

"I knew it!" Mapi shouts, shaking Alexia's shoulders which makes her laugh, pushing Mapi off of her hips so that they lay beside each other. "You are going to be a Mamá!"

"María! ¡Calláte! What did I just say?!" Alexia shushes her desperately, slapping her shoulder.

"You said you're having a baby! I'm gonna be a tía!" Mapi laughs giddily, kicking her legs like a child.

"I should never have told you." Alexia grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest to try and convey a stern, angry look, but it's completely futile.

"I am so happy for you. Nobody deserves this more than you." Mapi rolls onto her side to look at her best friend. "How is she doing?"

"She's so great. So happy. A little bit sick, but handling everything so well." Alexia closes her eyes as she thinks of you and the strip of ultrasound photos hanging on your fridge.

"I have no words, Ale. You both deserve it so much, to be this happy. I'm so proud of you." Mapi states, pushing away her childish side to try and have a proper moment with Alexia.

"I didn't do anything, it's all her." Alexia jokingly deflects, not wanting to get emotional when anyone could walk out and catch them.

"Ay, I didn't stab you at training for nothing." Mapi grins again.

"Sí, I guess." Alexia murmurs with a shy smile. "I am so excited. My own lit-"

"¿Qué están haciendo ustedes aquí?" A voice shouts from the door of the main building.

"Vamos. You both invite me around for dinner soon so we can celebrate and talk more, sí?" Mapi suggests, leaping up and offering a hand to Alexia who nods and stands. "¡Capi va a ser Mamá!"

You tilted your head at Alexia and smiled widely at the adorable story.

"I don't mind, Ale. She's one of your best friends, and she did help us get pregnant, technically." You told her, placing a reasurring kiss to the corner of her mouth. "But that girl cannot keep a secret. I bet Ingrid already knows."

"I knew she would tell Ingrid. But if she tells anyone else I will strangle her." Alexia grumbled with a disapproving look on her face to which you quietly laughed at.

"No you won't. I can't have my baby mama in prison for attempted murder." You joked, poking at her cheek to get her to smile, which you succeeded at.

"You are right. Por supuesto." Alexia whispered, leaning up to meet your lips in a gentle kiss. When she pulled away, she gazed at you so lovingly that it took your breath away. "Venga, lay down and get comfy. You need sleep to look after our chiqui."

You smiled bashfully and lay on your side facing away from her, to which she shuffled up behind you and draped an arm over your side. Her hand settled on your stomach of course, a new gesture you could never get over, so you covered her hand with yours and squeezed it.

"You are going to be the best Mami, Ale." You whispered, Alexia immediately smiling into the back of your neck and placing a few kisses there.

"Tú también." She mumbled, speaking her beliefs whole-heartedly.

Due to Alexia's busy schedule and her understandable defiance to miss an appointment, you both didn't have an aligned day off together for another scan until the fifteenth week of pregnancy. In the past two weeks, you had both told everyone in your life that you were expecting a baby. It was difficult to do since Alexia had to travel a lot, most of the time it was you meeting up with family or friends with Alexia on a FaceTime call, but it was still incredibly special nevertheless.

Today though was an important day; not only a check-up for the baby and yourself, but it would also be the day to found out the gender. You weren't too fussed about finding out or not, but Alexia was not a very patient person, she would plan out every step of her life if she could. So it was an easy decision, you would have the check-up scan, do a blood test, then go about the rest of your day whilst waiting for an email from the nurse.

Seeing the baby much more developed and bigger was of course an emotional moment, nothing in your life so far could compare.

"Míralo, dios mío. Mi bebé." Alexia said quietly, clutching your hand as she gazed at the screen showing the ultrasound. "I am so glad it is just one."

You laughed and shook your head at her comment, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the same.

"They have your legs, Ale." You smiled softly as you watched your baby kick their legs away on the screen. It wasn't possible to feel yet, but you knew in a few weeks time you would be in endless amounts of pain as the aforementioned legs kicked at you all over.

"They better like football." Alexia stated, again making you laugh.

"If they don't, you can't walk out on me." You warned her teasingly, but she took it too seriously.

"No, never, amor." She frowned, lifting your hand and pressing a firm kiss to the back of it. "They will just have to live with their Mami shouting about it every week."

"By the time they're born, it'll probably be the only sound that soothes them to sleep." You said.

The thought of that makes her smile and she falls into a daydream about it - her baby laying on her chest whilst she watches a football game, dressed in matching Barça shirts, desperately trying to keep her running commentary quiet for the baby and for you who was sleeping in the bedroom, and-

"Okay, let's do the blood tests now."

An hour later and you both were walking around Barcelona, looking at the city you love and where your family would grow. It was a waiting game now, you could get any email any second. Your plan was to wait for it to be sent, then go into a bakery and show the worker the email who would be able to give you some kind of baked treat with either blue or pink in it. Simple, yes, but it would be a moment for just the two of you (and the baker, you supposed) that you would remember forever.

So, some time later when Alexia's phone pinged with the email notification and she confirmed who it was from, you both smiled excitedly and immediately began heading towards the bakery. You picked up the small cake, thanked the baker who congratulated you many times, before heading home.

Once you were in the comfort of your own kitchen, you grabbed a fork each and sat down at the island, unable to keep your eyes off each other.

"Whatever it is, I am so happy to be doing this with you." Alexia states softly, taking your free hand and holding it tight on top of the counter.

"There's no one I'd rather do it with." You respond matter-of-factly.

"Me too." Alexia murmurs, raising your hand to her mouth so she could kiss your ring finger. "Ready?"

"Yes, come on, let's do it!" You urge her excitedly, unable to contain yourself.

"Vale, vale." Alexia laughs. "I count down from tres, sí?" You nod, a nervous smile on your face. "Tres... dos... uno."

Both of you dig your forks into the cake, cutting a chunk out to reveal that it's-

"¡Chiquitita!" Alexia shouts, jumping up from her chair. You grin at the news and at her reaction, but rather than reacting like Alexia, you simply eat the forkful of cake. "Bebíta, why are you not excited? We are having a baby girl!"

"I am excited, but I have cake in front of me, I'm not gonna just let it sit there." You say, to which she laughs and comes over to wrap her arms around your neck from behind. "A little girl, hey?"

"Sí, una niña pequeña." Alexia sighs happily, tears in her eyes as she rested her forehead on your shoulder. "I can't believe it. It feels a bit more real now."

"It was very real for me when I was throwing up every morning." You scoff, Alexia laughing again. "I get what you mean though. It feels different now that we know it's a girl. She."

Alexia hums in agreement, smiling when you offer her a forkful of cake. She accepts it and nods approvingly at it, making you grin again.

"What is that thing people say? When they have a baby and they want it to be a footballer? I think it is... project Putellas."

"Well, if she wants to be a footballer, she literally has the best person in the world to learn from." You tease, raising your free hand that wasn't devouring the small cake to rest on her forearm. "You just might want to start off by differentiating between an actual football and the shiny gold ones on display in the lounge. I have no doubt a small and excitable toddler who has a Mami kicking football around the house all day will find a golden ball very fascinating."

"I will make sure. But she can kick them all she wants, I will just get my revenge when she wins one in the future." Alexia grins, making you giggle as you squeeze her arm. "If she doesn't like football, I will only be upset for a tiny bit of time. I would just want her to be happy of course."

"She'd still go to every one of your games and would want to go with you when you aren't playing. Just like you and your Papi." You remind her gently, to which she smiles a little sadder this time, but nevertheless hums in acknowledgement.

"Ah... she. I cannot believe it." Alexia slides one hand down to rest on your ever-growning yet still small stomach. There was a bump, but in the majority of your clothes it wasn't quite visible yet.

"Now we have to start thinking of names." You say, finally turning your attention away from the cake and spinning around in the chair to face her. She groans and pulls you to stand up, then taps the back of your thighs to urge you to jump into her arms, to which you do. "What's up with you?"

"Names is the hardest part." She grumbles, leading you to the bedroom where she places you down gently on the bed before cuddling up next to you.

"Well, get thinking, guapa. We have a little girl on the way!"

At the 24 week mark, you both decide it's time to announce it to the rest of the world. It's been amazing having it be a secret purely between you and the people you love most, but your bump is getting a bit more noticeable now and you want to be able to go out without covering up so much.

Alexia posted a simple picture to her social media of the baby's cot in the nursery, along with a tiny Barcelona shirt in it of course, and tied it off with the most recent ultrasound photos set beside the jersey. She wasn't one for sharing much of her private life, so that's all she gave. No date, no gender, no confirmation of how far along you were, and to some people it wasn't even clear if it was you or Alexia who was pregnant. The media's reaction was funny to sit back and watch as you lay in bed together that night, and it made to be even more entertaining when Alexia told you she had been lightly scolded by the club for the lack of context, but her argument was that people should know she wouldn't be playing if she was pregnant. This social media speculation was followed by a post from Barcelona making it clear that Alexia wasn't pregnant, putting all the rumours to bed at the expense of the Barca PR management who had possibly grown a few more grey hairs after the whole fiasco. But it was funny to watch and it made for a great memory, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, the baby has started moving more, so much so that Alexia can feel it when she holds her hands against your bump. From the moment you first told her you could feel the baby moving, she had desperately wanted to feel it too. There was a worry in the back of her mind that she wouldn't bond with her baby like a second parent figure should, considering she wasn't the one carrying. Even though the baby would genetically be hers due to the type of IVF you chose, you would bond with the baby on a whole other level that she wouldn't experience.

So, she was desperate to feel the baby move against her hand because it would be her first chance of physically experiencing the baby, unlike you who had been through that from the early days of pregnancy with the typical early-stage symptoms. When she did, when she felt the first tiny but powerful kick against her, she immediately began to cry. She didn't really clue you in on why she had such an intense reaction, not that you discredited it of course, but you had an inkling that it meant much more to her than she would ever admit.

It was rare for pregnancy to be so smooth-sailing though. As the weeks went on and your baby girl grew bigger and stronger, all whilst the both of you remained healthy, it was like the doubtful and anxious thoughts slowly left. Until you noticed something.

You were sat at dinner with your friends before all of you were due to watch Alexia and the team play a Copa De La Reina game at the Johan. You were taking a backseat from the conversation for a few minutes when a frightening realisation hit you. You frowned, holding your hands against various places on your bump, looking for a major sign that you hadn't felt in... how long? You couldn't even remember. And that was when it felt like your heart stopped.

"Chica, ¿estás bien?" Your friend asked quietly from beside you, thankfully nobody else taking notice.

"Yeah. I... I don't know." You answered shakily, hands unmoving from your stomach as you closed your eyes tight to concentrate.

"¿Es el bebé? ¿Qué ocurre?" She questioned in hushed tone.

"I... I can't feel her move." You mumbled, trying to suppress the tears already brewing. "I... she's normally moving all the time. But I haven't felt her move... at all today."

"Vale, vale. You want to go to the bathroom, somewhere private?" She suggested, to which you nodded desperately. "Okay. Let's go."

You both stand up, you still in your panicked daze as she comes up with a reason for you both to be excused, before quickly leading you to the individual bathroom at the back of the restaurant.

"I'm scared." You admitted to her, hands still firmly planted on your lower stomach where the baby normally would kick.

"It's okay, tell me what's wrong, yeah?" Your friend said, her hands on your shoulders to try and keep you grounded.

"I was just sat there and then, then I realised my baby hasn't, I haven't felt her move for a while. And now I can't remember the last time she moved. I was really tired yesterday and normally before I go to sleep she starts kicking a lot, but I don't think she did it last night because I fell asleep really quickly when her kicking usually keeps me up for a while and now-"

"Ay, calm down, chica. Take some breaths, do it with me, you need to calm down." You nodded and began to do as instructed, easing your breathing but not your anxiety. "What would you like to do? Don't feel like a burden, this is your baby you're talking about and if you are worried about her health then you must do whatever you feel you need to do to ensure she's safe."

"I... I need to talk to Ale. But she has an important game, I-"

"Alexia would want you to tell her. Forget her work, this is family. This is her little girl too, she would never play football again if it meant you and your baby were safe. Wouldn't she?" You nodded reluctantly, the tears now falling uncontrollably. "Sí. Will she be at the stadium yet?"

"Um..." You got your phone out to check the time, seeing a text from the woman mentioned who confirmed she was at the stadium without you even asking. "Yes, she's there."

"Okay, chica, I could drive you to the nurse now and you call her in the car, or I drive you to the stadium so you can be with her. Whatever you prefer, sí? Anything."

You forgot the rest of the world around you outside this one bathroom, possible solutions and outcomes passing by so quickly and convoluted it was almost impossible to land on one. Was it serious enough to pull Alexia out of a game? Were you just overthinking? Or could this be a genuine problem with the baby?

Ultimately, this was not a risk you could take.

"I need Ale. I need to talk to her." You decided, focusing on your breathing again to try and quell the nausea your anxiety was causing.

"Okay, I will drive you to the stadium. You take the keys and go straight to my car, I will tell everybody else that the plans are cancelled."

From that moment on, it's like your mind goes into shock. Everything is a distant blur, even the feeling of Alexia's arms wrapped tightly around you and Eli and Alba's hands on your back when you meet them at the stadium. You give a stuttered explanation to them, which makes Alexia's heart drop and she squeezes you tighter. She whispers words of comfort and reassurance of course, but if someone held a gun to your head and forced you to recount what she said, you'd be screwed. For all you knew, she could have said anything in the world, and you'd have no idea.

Eli and Alba drove you to the hospital whilst you and Alexia sit in the backseat, no words exchanged (or at least that's what you remember). The cityscape passed by fast as you stared blankly out the window, the moment feeling so surreal it felt as if you were living a nightmare. Your hand clutched tightly onto Alexia's, the only feeling that kept you in touch with reality as every memory you have so far of your unborn child played out in your head like a montage straight out of a film.

Images of you and Alexia in the bathroom with the test strip, you both at the blood test finding out you were 100% pregnant, having the first scan, telling your loved ones, finding out it was a little girl-

She doesn't even have a name.

She can't slip away without a name. That's unfair.

She cannot be taken away from you before you have even met her. Is the world that cruel?

"Amor, we are here." Alexia's hand leaves yours to brush away a few tears you hadn't even realised were falling. "How do you feel?"

"How... how am I supposed to feel?" You reply, almost in a whimper, and Alexia immediately understands what you mean.

"I know." Is all she says, unbuckling your belt for you.

"We will wait here." Alba smiles reasurringly at you, squeezing your knee then Alexia's.

"No hay mal que por bien no venga." Eli states, and that ignites a tiny spark of hope inside of you. (Every cloud has a silver lining.)

Hand in hand, you and Alexia walk into the Maternity ward and explain the situation to the receptionist who tells you again and again that the right thing to do was come in for a check-up. Alexia guides you over to some seats, her eyes constantly searching over your face as her arm wraps around your shoulders.

"I love you." Alexia whispers the only words she can think of right now, because what else is there to say?

She kisses your forehead before letting you tuck your face into her neck, and that's how you stayed the whole time waiting. Just in each other's arms, knowing that you had each other no matter the result of the day. The rest of the world went away; the confines of the hospital, the endless electrical sounds of machines and technological devices, people walking back and forth down the corridors, the sound of doors opening and closing, everything slithered away until it was just the two of you. No thoughts about anything else - football, family, media - solely just the two of you in this white sterile room, waiting on news that would shatter your world or paint it gold.

When your name was finally called, some unknown amount of time later, you shared a glance with Alexia, both of you holding an elixir of emotion in your eyes, before following the midwife to a patient room.

Again, you explained the situation to her whilst Alexia sat on a chair in the corner of the small room, the taller woman fidgeting anxiously as she can't be beside you to hold your hand. The midwife explained that she would do a number of tests on you first to ensure you are healthy, before doing an ultrasound for the baby.

Alexia watches with tears in her eyes as your tests are done, feeling somewhat relieved to hear there is nothing wrong with your health. Though her dread increases tenfold when the midwife brings out the ultrasound, and due to it not being a purpose-built ultrasound room, there is no large TV screen for her to see. It's only a small screen for the midwife to view, which makes her feel even more ill if that was possible. She subtly takes a few deep breaths to control herself and the nausea plaguing her whilst the midwife sets up the small machine and spreads the gel on your lower stomach.

The seconds leading up to the probe being pressed against your skin seemed to stretch indefinitely, like the laws of time bent just to purposely suspend the moment more. She held her breath, hands clenching and unclenching on her thighs as her eyes focused on you, her heart poised on the edge of a cliff between joy and utter despair. Every moment of her life so far felt like it had been built up just for this one moment here, like some sick trick of fate, until-

"And there is your baby girl, her little heart beating away happily."

There she was on the sonogram screen, perfectly fine, just getting on with her life like she hadn't caused the single most panic and fear either of you had ever felt, the tiny being causing a whirlwind of emotions before she was even born.

You broke out into deliriously relieved laughter, head thrown back against the bed as tears fell, whilst Alexia put her face in her hands and cried silently.

"Ale, come here." You plead, looking at her broken figure in the corner of the room.

Alexia instantly jumps up from her chair and goes over to you, cradling your face and ushering mumbled and scattered words of affirmation and reassurance. You both break indefinitely more when your baby's heartbeat echoes through the room, almost like her way of announcing herself and saying: 'I'm here to stay!'

The midwife explains that the reason for not feeling her move is because your placenta is positioned at the front of your stomach, meaning little girl is moving against that which subdues the feeling. But, you rest assured, because you both leave the hospital with a new and stronger recording of her heart beat and some updated photos of her. Eli and Alba spot you both heading back to the car with huge, relieved smiles on your faces so they jump out of the car to greet you. You can tell from the way Alexia deflates into her Mother's arms that the day had exhausted her just as much as it had you, and that plants a seed of doubt in your mind.

Alexia notices this as you both sit in the back of the car on the way back to the stadium, a frown forming on her face as she squeezes your hand.

"Why are you sad, amor?" She whispers to make sure only you hear it. You shake your head and look out the window, now a little embarrassed about the whole day. "Tell me, please."

"I just feel ridiculous. I pulled you out of your game for no reason." You mutter, humiliation settling in your chest.

It wasn't just Alexia who you had disrupted, it was her family, your friends, the whole of the Barça team and staff, their fans, and so many other people around the world who had been left disappointed and confused as to why she had suddenly pulled out of the match day squad. You let your anxieties get to you and ruined what was meant to be a good day for you and many other people.

"No. You had every reason to be worried. And I am so relieved you told me so that all three of us could be there for you. It is so important that you did that, no matter if the baby is healthy after all." She raises your hand to her mouth so she could kiss it softly, before placing it on your thigh and covering it with both of hers. "The fact you dropped everything and focused on our daughter is already a sign of an amazing mother. You both are so much more important than any game of football - league game, cup game, champions league final or world cup. I would do anything to make sure you are both safe, and that's what you did. As soon as you noticed something could be wrong, you did everything to keep her safe and find out she is healthy. I could never thank you enough for that."

She squeezes your hand periodically as her wide eyes assisted her in getting her point across - there was layer after layer of love present in them and when she looked at you like that, you could never doubt her.

"I really was worried. For like two weeks straight, she's been moving and wriggling in there constantly. And then all of a sudden she stops, I didn't feel a thing. Not even hiccups. It was terrifying." You say shyly, Alexia nodding in understanding. She goes to say something, but stops herself when Eli starts.

"Trust me, chiqui, I am proud of you. Ale is right, you are already displaying amazing habits of a good madre. You did the right thing and we are all so proud of you and happy that you spoke up about it. We would do anything if it meant my hija en lay y nieta pequeña were safe and healthy."

Is there any higher praise than that from a great mother already? That meant the world to hear from Eli. It almost entirely dissipated the regret you felt. You did the right thing.

"Mami is right. You are part of this family now." Alba adds, Alexia gazing at you proudly.

"Grácies, us estimo a tots." You reply confidently in Catalan, hoping it conveyed how grateful you were for them all.

Unbeknownst to you, that day plagued Alexia for almost two weeks. She thought about it every night before she went to sleep even when you were in her arms, she thought about it during training, when she stepped on the pitch, but she suppressed it. You had so much to focus on and worry about, you were growing a human for heaven's sake, she had to be strong for you and show that you can rely on her when you need it.

But, that all came falling down one night.

She had one bad game, missed one penalty, and it destroyed the demeanor she'd worked so hard on building. They didn't even lose the game, they drew 1-1 with the chance of bettering themselves for the second leg a week later, but no words could be said to make her feel any better.

The moment the final whistle blew, her face remained stoic and free of emotion. It remained that way in the changing rooms, when she met you and her family after the game, on the drive home, and all through her nightly routine. It killed you to see her like this, knowing in her mind she was reducing herself to something so miniscule and inadequate, you had to at least try and get through to her.

"Ale?" You whisper as you lay beside her on your side. She's in the same position but facing away from you, and you know it's another attempt at keeping the world locked out of her mind. "Alexia, talk to me. What do you need?"

"Estoy bien, vete a dormir." Alexia mumbles, lightly squeezing your hand that rested on her waist.

"No. Look at me, Ale." You demand gently, pulling on her hip so that she lays flat. She averts her eyes away from you, but you notice that they are bloodshot red, like she'd been silently fighting off tears. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

"I... uh, maybe... maybe a lot." She chokes out, resting her forearm over her eyes, her final attempt at fighting this losing battle on her own.

"Let me in." You urge her, taking her wrist and moving her arm away. "Come on. Tell me what's wrong."

"There... there is too much." Alexia says, almost in a whimper. "There is so much happening in my head."

"We can try and unpack it, hey? You're not going to be able sleep like this, you never do, so let's try and sort through some of your worries." You sit up against the head board and move her so that her head rests on your thigh. You recognise that she needs a few moments to collect herself, so you let her do that, silently combing a hand through her hair until she was ready.

"Well, first, I played like shit." She chuckles in spite of herself, making you smile sadly and lean down, despite the awkward angle and your bump, to place a kiss on her temple. "But... I can't change that now. That... it caused me to feel like this, but I'm not really thinking about that anymore."

"What are you thinking about, my love?"

"I... the baby." She sighs, bringing a hand up to her face as she turned to hide in your leg.

"What about her?" You probe carefully, your free hand subconsciously falling to your bump.

"We thought... we thought we lost her."

That statement breaks her, her first time saying it out loud, and now her body shakes as broken sobs rip through her.

"I know, Ale, I know." You shift back down the bed so that you can hold her. She tucks her face into the space between your neck and shoulder as her tears wet the pillow. The arm of yours she wasn't laying on wrapped around her, holding her tight against you, turning to place kisses under her ear. "She's okay, we saw her and heard her, she's healthy. In fact, I can feel her wiggling around in there. Here, give me your hand." She leans back so that she can see you place her hand over where the baby was moving at the side of your stomach. You pause for a few moments, Alexia waiting with bated breath, desperate to feel her daughter once more. "Oh, there she goes!" You smile brightly as a hard kick hits against Alexia's hand, who laughs breathlessly at it. "See? She's alright, isn't she? If you listen closely, you can hear her saying 'Mírame, Mami, I'm okay! Don't cry!'"

Alexia laughs again, though it sounds more like a choked sob, and buries her face back into your neck.

"You..." Alexia breathes out, smiling again when she feels another kick. "You are both perfect."

"Mm, I think you're pretty great too." You tease, nuzzling your cheek against her hair. "Is there anything else you're worried about?"

"Y-yeah." She mutters, her thumb stroking over your skin. "There's just so many worries I have. Not about her, not really, but... what if I'm not good enough?"

You'd be lying if you said you weren't shocked to hear that. And it breaks your heart.

"Ale, look at me." You place a hand on her cheek when she moves away to meet your eyes. "Why do you think you won't be good enough?"

"I can be a mess. I get frustrated easily and I have no idea how to care for myself, how can I care for a tiny, innocent baby?" She spits the words out like she's disgusted at herself and it's almost unbearable to hear.

"Alexia, you are being unfair to yourself." You state, hearing her sigh frustratedly. "I can be a mess too, I get angry too, you're only human, Alexia. You know how to take care of me, you do it so well, no one has ever treated me better than you do. You have so much love to give and I cannot wait to see you become a parent. I wouldn't want to have children with you if I didn't think you were good enough. In fact, I think you're going to be an amazing parent. Every step along the way already, through my pregnancy and the process of getting pregnant, even before that, I knew you were going to be great. And that belief only grows stronger whenever I see you with other children, like Mateo or my friends' kids. I don't have a single doubt about you, not one."

"But what if I don't bond with her?"

"Love." You sigh, holding a firm kiss against her forehead. "You will. I know I'm the one carrying her, but she's your baby just as much as mine. She's got all your genetics, of course you're going to bond with her." You poke her in the side teasingly, pulling a half-hearted chuckle from her. "I know she will adore you so much. She'd be crazy not to. You do realise you're gonna be the cool parent out of us two?"

"What?" She asks humourously.

"You're definitely the cooler parent out of us, think about it! Imagine her seeing you play football on TV every week, people with your name on their shirts, whole stadiums chanting your name, trophies and medals all around the house, she's gonna go to school and be like 'My Mami is famous!'" You grin whilst speaking, delighted to her Alexia laugh like she normally does.

"Stoooop." She groans, but you know it's in good nature. Another sigh leaves her lips, but this time it's a little less heavy and a bit more content. "You will be cool too."

"Thanks." You laugh and from that you feel her smile into your skin. "Do you feel a little better, cariño?"

"Sí. You are magic." Alexia responds, her head a lot less clouded. Now, it's filled with pictures of her little family of three, and it cheers her up more than anything ever has. "I love you. Thank you for... for everything, amor. Seriously."

You roll back onto your side, Alexia doing the same, and your hand falls to her neck. Your foreheads rest against each other, Alexia's hand still lingering on your bump, and you smile at the lighter look in her eyes.

"You don't have to be strong all the time. You can let go- you need to let go sometimes." You remind her, and when she goes to reply to that, you speak before she can as you know what she's going to argue. "Ah, no, I'm not hearing it, I know what you were going to say. And it's not true, it's not fair on you. I'm your partner after all, Ale. Yes, I'm carrying a baby, but that doesn't lessen any of your problems. I will always have time for you, Alexia, whatever you need, whenever you need it."

Alexia finally backs down and allows your words to mend the cracks in her mind, getting rid of that doubtful devil on her shoulder.

"Thank you. Just... thank you." Alexia mutters, seemingly allowing her post-match exhaustion to overpower her.

"Anytime, I promise. Now get some sleep, alright? You've kept me awake past my bedtime, even little one has stopped her night-time kicking now." You joke, glad to see she mirrors the smile you have and her body relaxes, the tension from the match and the past weeks finally leaving her. "Te amo. Siempre."

By the time June came around, Barça had basically wrapped up every single competition, it being yet another clean sweep for the record-breaking team. That included the Champions League, to which you had to almost force Alexia to go out and celebrate with her team, your argument being that it would be the last chance she got before her life was filled with baby bottles and diapers instead of shot glasses and night clubs.

It was fortunate that the team had done what they did when they did, because it was like once the clock struck midnight of the month of June, your baby girl had decided she'd had enough of her comfy little home and wanted to see what the real world was like. One minute, you were using the bathroom in the middle of the evening at home, the next minute you were in a patient gown on a hospital bed clutching Alexia's arm with one hand and some gas and air with the other.

There were thirteen hours between your waters breaking and the first cry of your daughter. Alexia had tears in her eyes the moment you stepped into the hospital room, but that was nothing compared to the tears that fell like a waterfall when your baby was placed on your chest. She rested her temple against yours and gazed down at the tiny being that you both had created. In her mind, she knew there was no better sight.

Once the initial check-ups were done for both you and your daughter, the business calmed down and it allowed for Alexia to hold her for the first time. Your little girl weighed a mere 6 pounds 11 ounces, but those numbers didn't do it justice - she looked miniscule in the arms of Alexia.

"Hi." Alexia croaked out in a tearful voice, making sure her arms were steady and that her little girl was positioned correctly. Yet to have her first sleep, the baby's brown eyes stared widely up at her Mami.

"Suits you." You commented tiredly, thoroughly exhausted but there was no way you could rest right now when this sight was beside you. You wouldn't miss it for the world.

"Bon día, A-" Alexia glances up at you briefly. "Are we still choosing that name? I think it's perfect for her."

"Yes. So perfect." You smile at your two favourite people.

"Bon día, little Anaís." Alexia whispers, using the back of her index finger to run it ever-so-gently along her daughter's cheek.

It's such a sacred moment for Alexia, like it would be for any parent, as she cradles her new little bundle of joy against her chest. Being able to put a face to the name you'd chosen a few months ago now, putting a face to the offender of the brutal blows her Mama had been subjected to for two months, and finally bonding with her child - it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

The weight of her daughter in her arms brought a greater comfort than anything in her life. Every tiny feature, from the delicate curve of her little button nose to the hands that fidgeted delicately against Alexia's chest, is a glorious sight to behold. Alexia feels her heart grow impossibly bigger as she traces the outline of Anaís' face with trembling fingertips, already trying to commit every detail to her memory.

You watch along in silent awe, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at the sight you'd been desperate to see for so long. There is so much admiration and wonder in Alexia's eyes, and you felt your love for the two humans in front of you reach limits you never thought it could.

"Come here." You say, shuffling over to one side of the bed and patting the free space now available. Alexia nods, eyes unmoving from the baby in her arms, and moves slowly and carefully to lay next to you. "Oh, look at her, Ale."

"You did amazing, amor. So strong and so incredible. Look what you did." Alexia praises you and kisses your forehead for what must be the thousandth time that day. You smile and lean your head to rest on her shoulder, one of your hands coming to rest on the back of Anaís' head. "Our little chiqui. Dios mío, she is so small."

"I can't believe those tiny feet almost broke my ribs." You say, giggling along with Alexia as she laughs too and holds both of Anaís' feet in the palm of her hand.

"I love her already." Alexia states, able to stroke one thumb over both of her feet.

"Me too." You hum, adjusting the small knitted hat that covered her head. "She has your eyes."

"Mm, those are definitely Putellas eyes." Alexia grins, gasping quietly when Anaís' tiny fist curls around her pinky finger. "Amor, mirar."

"I see." You watch the interaction in awe, feeling so blessed in this moment. "I told you she would adore you. She's so at peace with you."

Alexia smiled tearfully in reply as Anaís' eyes slowly fluttered shut in her arms.

"I adore her too." Alexia whispers, then she turns to look at you. "Thank you for giving me the greatest gift of all. I'm so proud of you. So so proud."

You smile bashfully at her words and turn to hide your face in her shoulder, stifling a yawn. The exhaustion was really hitting you now, but who in their right mind would pass up a moment like this?

"Thank you for being the best partner I could ask for. I wouldn't have gotten through it without you." You mumble into her jumper, wrapping a hand around her upper arm and settling down more.

"We must dress her in the Barcelona onesie when we take her home." Alexia states with a smug smirk, causing you to laugh and shake your head a little.

"There's no point even arguing, is there?" You say, giggling when she hums a polite no. "Fine, I'll allow it."

"We have to teach her early, amor." Alexia argues.

"Of course we do." You say sarcastically, a yawn slipping out of you.

"You can rest now. I will take the first shift, hm? You sleep as much as you can." Alexia suggests, glad to see you nod. "Want me to stay here?" You nod once more, and a content smile settles on her face. "I love you, rest well."

It takes a little while for you to fall asleep, not able to get fully comfortable as you harbour a lot of pain and achiness, but you eventually do and it warms Alexia's heart to see. Anaís had fallen asleep too, taking her first ever nap in her Mami's arms, and Alexia doesn't think she's ever felt such peace.

She takes the opportunity to photograph the occasion with a selfie of the three of you, before sending it to various people: Eli and Alba, your family, your closest friends, and lastly her teammates who were currently at training. They must have all seen it at the same time as her phone immediately started blowing up at the influx of overjoyed messages. Each one is filled with so much love and delight for you both, and that paired with the messages from Eli and Alba cause her to tear up once again. She wasn't sure how she had any tears left to be honest, it had been an emotional day and it seemed like it wasn't ending anytime soon.

The next day, after getting the all-clear, you were allowed to take Anaís home for the first time. Eli and Alba had been there waiting, making sure the house was tidy and cosy so that you and your little family could live as stress-free as possible (if that was a thing with a newborn) whilst you adjusted to your new way of life.

You settled on the sofa beside Alexia's mother as the now-abuela held her granddaughter for the first time. The look on Alexia's face as she placed a sleeping Anaís in her arms was one you'd never forget. It was priceless, there was so much pride present in her eyes and you were so glad for her sake that Alba was filming the moment. Next, it was Alba's turn to hold her, who also shed a few tears when she held onto Anaís for the first time, joking that she was glad she put no makeup on otherwise her mascara would stain the soft white blanket wrapped around the baby. Unexpectedly, as Alba cradled your daughter and conversed quietly with Alexia, Eli shuffled closer to you and hugged you tenderly, whispering the sweetest words you'd ever heard from her into your ear. There were so many core memories being created at once it was near impossible to keep up with everything, but you realised in a quiet moment in the middle of it all that you had finally achieved the life you wanted. This was it; you'd done it.

You stayed in your social media free bubble for a week, until you and Alexia decided it was time to confirm what everyone thought anyway. It was the same day that Barça had their penultimate Liga F game, the first game for the club since Anaís was born. As there would only be more speculation when Alexia wouldn't be named in the match day squad, both of you and the club decided today would be the best day to do it. When you were pregnant, you made an agreement that Alexia would continue playing until the baby was born, where she would take however long she wanted off to be with you and your daughter. And in the end, that agreement worked out perfectly.

So, Alexia posted yet another simple photo to her social pages, this time a selfie of her exhausted smile and the back of Anaís' head as she slept on her chest, the little girl of course adorning the Barça jersey featured in the initial pregnancy announcement photo. She did caption it this time, writing 'Nueva mascota del Barça' meaning Barcelona's new mascot, followed by two red and blue love hearts. You smiled when you saw the online reaction, sitting and scrolling through it whilst you fed Anaís and Alexia napped on the sofa beside you.

Throughout the week that followed, you both thought it was time to allow people outside your immediate family to visit. That meant that almost everyday there were new guests over. The most excitable one was of course Mapi, it was hard to keep her calm and quiet enough to let her hold Anaís but once the baby was in her arms, she immediately fell silent as she simply admired her. You, Alexia, and Ingrid all shared shocked looks at the scene in front of you.

"Buena, Ingrid, there is your solution to her constant talking." Alexia joked with a grin, making Ingrid roll her eyes.

However, Mapi's reply caught everybody off guard.

"Sí, elskling, we will talk about it later."

You had to hold back the laugh that threatened to burst out when Ingrid and Alexia's eyes widened so much that they almost popped out of their head. It would only be a matter of time before those two had children anyway, you secretly knew it. Anytime one of their friends announced they were having children, you could see the desire for the same thing in their eyes grow everytime. Whether they both knew they felt the same or not, you definitely could picture it in their near future.

Alexia missed the final game of the season too of course, but with it being a home game at the Johan, you urged her to go and watch it so that she could be part of the post-game presentations and celebrations. She was reluctant to do so, she hadn't really left your side for long since before you gave birth, but the smile on her face as she got ready to leave let you know you'd made the right decision.

"Say bye-bye to your chiqui." You say quietly, presenting a sleeping Anaís to Alexia where she was waiting to say goodbye at the front door. She smiles brightly and wraps an arm around you, looking down at your daughter's face that seemed to change everyday.

"Adiós mi niña, volveré pronto." Alexia whispers, leaning down to press a very light kiss to her forehead. "And you, I will be back as soon as I can."

"I'll be okay, Ale." You giggle, Alexia grinning and hugging you into her side. "Enjoy it. Promise me you'll make the most of it?"

"Eh, I will, but I don't want to be out too long." She shrugs a shoulder, leaning down to kiss you softly.

"Why not?" You wonder with a frown, and from that Alexia can spot the speckles of insecurity in your eyes.

"Because I just want to be with you and Anaís. I'm not worried about leaving you with her, not at all, but there's nothing better than being with you both at home. I love it." Alexia admits, washing away any doubts you had and replacing them with the most adorable confession. "It's true. I will be gone for only a few hours but I will miss you both so much."

You gaze up at her, your heart so full, and lean up to peck her lips softly.

"We will miss you too." You tell her, watching on adoringly as Alexia raises a hand and gently takes hold of one Anaís' tiny hands. The difference in size is so big that it's absolutely adorable, making you smile and lean your head into Alexia's neck.

"Mi familia perfecta." Alexia murmurs, stroking her thumb over Anaís tiny fingers and kissing your forehead. "I don't want to leave."

"We'll be right here when you get back. Go celebrate you and your team, it was another amazing season and they'll want to catch up with you. We've kept you locked up here long enough." You joke, Alexia smiling and shaking her head.

"They won't want to know about me, I will just get a million questions about you and Anaís."

"We both know you'd happily sit there for hours talking about me and Anaís, it's all you do." You catch her out, but she just shrugs and smirks.

"Why would I want to talk about anything else?" She says smugly, but she means it genuinely. You are the best things in her life. "But fine. I guess I will go. If anything happens, please ring me immediately?"

"Yes, Ale." You roll your eyes and kiss her quickly once more. "Now go. Alba will be here any minute, I'll be okay."

"I know you'll be okay. Love you." Alexia smiles, opening the door but lingering in the doorway as she stares at you lovingly.

"I love you too. You look beautiful." You tell her, smiling humourously when a light blush covers her cheeks.

"This is what I look like when I can shower and I'm not covered in baby sick, if you remember." She winks.

"I remember it very well." You smirk, stifling a laugh when she grins knowingly. "Now go, you'll be late."

She puts on a very dramatic sad frown and steps out of the house backwards, turning around just as Alba pulls up and presses her horn.

"Alba! Anaís is sleeping, are you stupid?" Alexia snaps quietly at her sister who jumps out of her car with a grin.

"She's still asleep, stop stalling and go." You tease, ushering her away with one hand as Alba skips over and completely disregards Alexia in search of you and Anaís.

"Where is my favourite sister with my favourite baby?" She grins, shoving past her actual sister and walking straight over to you.

"Nice to see you too, Alba." Alexia grumbles, though there is a tiny hint of a smile on her face as she watches you three.

"Have fun at your game, Tata." Alba waves behind her dismissively and embraces you carefully, kissing your cheek before turning to Anaís. "Hola, belleza. Oh, she is so cute."

"Alexia, you're gonna be late." You laugh as she comes over to join you, standing behind you and Alba and wrapping an arm each around your shoulders.

"But this is so much better." She groans. "I have been to plenty trophy celebrations, what is one more?"

"That's so humble of you, Ale." You scoff jokingly, grinning at the disapproving look on her face and kissing her cheek.

"Mami will be mad if you stand her up, Tata. Now go. Angry Mami is scarier than you when you are angry."

That seems to shift Alexia into gear as she begrudgingly pulls herself away from the mini group hug and walks with a childish pout on her face back to the door. You wave at her as she walks out and she blows a quick kiss at you before closing the door gently behind her.

Alba kindly offers to look after Anaís so that you can take a relaxing bath before the match kicks off, and afterwards you feel ten times more refreshed and calm. When you're finished, you join her on the sofa and chat with her whilst Anaís sleeps peacefully in the space between you both. You feel completely content there, catching up with Alba whilst your baby snoozes away and Barcelona score what seems like goal after goal. Every so often, the broadcast will show Alexia sat in the stands and you have an inkling that she's overcome with the same feeling you have as she sits there calmly with a hint of a smile on her face instead of the stormy and stoic look she normally wears whilst watching a game.

Once the match ends, the players celebrate on the pitch for a little whilst the ceremony gets prepared. Various awards from the season are given out, Alexia receiving a few as expected, but what you don't expect is the large hamper of baby supplies and other things such as clothes or sweets treats that is handed to her. She laughs at it and holds it up in front of the camera for a photo, but underneath the mask for the camera you can see the pride in her eyes and the utter joy on her face at the acknowledgement given to her.

"Did you know about that?" You ask Alba, who grins slyly at you.

"It was Mapi and Jana's idea." She tells you.

It's a wonderful surprise nonetheless, and from the quick glance you get at it, it looks like it contains genuinely useful stuff along with some treats that you'll devour once Alexia brings it back home.

Shortly after that, the trophy ceremony commences and you beam as Alexia collects her medal before picking up the trophy and taking it over to her teammates. You'd seen her do this multiple times, and of course she obviously seemed overjoyed each time, but as you watch this particular celebration, there's a new, unrefined look on her face, almost like she's letting her happiness consume her instead of dimming it a little to keep her persona.

When she comes home later, an endless amount of gift bags in her arms, she frowns at the unexpected silence of her home. She thought she would walk into the sounds of you and Alba laughing and chattering away like you often did together, so the stillness of the house comes as a surprise. Dropping all her bags off in the kitchen, she wanders into the lounge that was lit up by one lamp in the corner of the room. She squints a little, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, and spots you lay on the sofa with a blanket over you as you sleep.

"Hola Tata." Alba smiles at the sight of her sister in the doorway of the living room. "She fell asleep after the broadcast ended, so I took Anaís to her nursery and stayed in there so she could rest."

"Is she okay?" Alexia asks, concerned, happily accepting a restless Anaís when Alba offers her.

"Sí, sí, she is fine. Just tired. I think chiqui needs feeding, I changed her diaper but she is still a bit unsettled." Alexia nods in agreement and grabs a fresh bottle from the steriliser. "Would you like me to do anything? I have dinner with friends later so I will need to leave soon."

"No, it's okay, Tati. Thank you for coming over today and keeping them company."

Alba watches on in astonishment as Alexia expertly prepares a bottle of formula for Anaís with only one hand.

"Of course. It was so fun spending time with your girls." Alba states, pausing for a moment before walking over to her older sister and hugging her tightly from behind whilst being mindful of her niece.

"¿Tas bien?" Alexia frowns, leaning her head against Alba's when the younger woman rests her chin on her shoulder.

"Sí, simplemente estoy orgulloso de ti." Alba tells her, Alexia chuckling shyly. (Yes, I'm just proud of you.)

"Grácies, Tati." She mumbles, smiling down at Anaís when she mewls quietly.

"I was going through some old photos before and I realised that this little chiqui looks just like we did when we were babies." Alba reveals, lightly tracing her finger over the curve of Anaís nose.

"Really? You have to send me them." Alexia says as the timer goes off, telling her that the bottle was ready. "Put your hand out." Alba does as she says and laughs quietly when Alexia tips a few drops of the milk onto her hand. "Too hot? Too cold?"

"Just right, I think." Alba shrugs, unattaching herself from Alexia. The older woman presses the lukewarm bottle to Anaís' lips, a tiny proud smile growing when she immediately settles and starts drinking. Alba can't help but be fascinated again. "I can't believe you're a Mami now."

"Me too." Alexia mumbles, eyes unmoving from her daughter who seems much more content now that she's being fed. She glances up at Alba, a little confused when she sees her eyes have turned glossy. "Tati?"

"Papa would be so proud." Alba blurts out, a down-turned smile on her face due to the array of emotions overcoming her.

"Alba." Alexia smiles sadly, finding herself beginning to react exactly the same as her sister. Her eyes glimmer in the light of the room when she looks back down at the little girl in her arms. "I wish he could meet her."

Alba sniffles and walks back over to Alexia, slinging an arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

"He would have been an amazing abuelo, right?"

"Sí." Alexia whispers breathlessly, looking up at the lights for a moment to blink away her tears. "Go to your dinner, Tati, stop making me cry."

"Vale, I'm going." Alba laughs, giving her another cheek kiss and squeezing her side tightly before stepping away. "Te veo pronto."

"Buenas noches, disfruta tu velada." Alexia follows her to the hallway and watches her leave, smiling brightly as she steps out of her house and closes the door.

That smile stays on her face as she walks silently back to where you slept in the lounge, then sits down carefully next to where your head lay as Anaís carries on feeding. You had your face buried in the couch cushions, a blanket pulled up to your shoulder and your hands tucked under your chin. Alexia sighs contently, maybe a little too loud, as it seems to wake you.

"Ale?" You rasp, leaning your head back a little to glance up at her through one eye.

"Sí amor. You can sleep more if you would like, I have the baby." Alexia whispers. There's a piece of hair that's fallen onto your face that she would swipe out of the way for you if her hands weren't full with a tiny feasting baby.

"When did you come home?" You wonder, rubbing your eyes.

"Not too long ago. Alba left just now."

"Oh god, I can't believe I fell asleep while she was here." You groan, a little embarrassed at the fact you had just abandoned her for sleep and left her with your baby.

"No, it's okay, she was more than happy to look after Anaís. She said she took her up to her nursery and just relaxed in there with her." Alexia tells you as you hide your face back into the sofa pillows. "If you fell asleep, that means you needed it. It's absolutely fine, amor, don't be embarrassed."

You nod and rest there for a few moments, before deciding to sit up and snuggle into Alexia's side. She smiles down at you and kisses your forehead, the pair of you sitting in silence for a little while as Anaís drinks.

"Did you have fun today?" You ask, fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of Alexia's shirt.

"I did, it was very fun. I got a lot of gifts from fans and the staff for Anaís. Also a lot for you, not many for me though." She frowns and you laugh at the sight as well as the disheartened tone to her voice.

"I guess you're just not so popular anymore." You tease, kissing her jaw just as Anaís finished off the bottle. You took it from Alexia's hands and placed it on the floor so that she could burp Anaís, watching on as she carefully positioned her so that she was sat up on her thigh with a hand holding her front to support her and the other gently rubbing up and down her back. "Remember when you thought you wouldn't good enough? You're a pro, Ale."

"Hm. I still worry that sometimes." Alexia admits sheepishly.

"Why?" You wonder quietly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezing once.

"I think it is just a general worry. But you do a great job of telling me otherwise. We don't know much about her personality yet but you and her make being a parent easy." She states softly, glancing down at you with a blissful smile on her face.

Out of all the places she's been, all the things she's seen, everything she's achieved and the once-in-a-lifetime experiences she's lived, these moments right here could never be topped.

"That's very adorable of you to say." You murmur, forever enamoured by how soft and affectionate she can be with her words. "I can't wait to see what she's like when she grows up."

"Me too, but she can't do it too fast." Alexia grumbles, once again making you laugh as you quickly wipe a bit of spit-up away from Anaís' mouth. "Before we know it she will be moving out."

It's said with a dejected sigh, and this time you laugh at Alexia instead of with her.

"You do realise she's not even three weeks old? She's not gonna be packing her bags and leaving next week, Ale." You say with a grin, giggling as a small smile breaks onto Alexia's face despite her trying to stop it. "We have at least eighteen years before we need to worry about that."

"I know, I just don't want it to happen ever."

You hum in agreement, before noticing the slight redness to Alexia's eyes.

"Have you been crying?" You ask her, sitting up a little more so you could look at her properly.

"Only a tiny bit, Alba made me cry before she left." Alexia chuckles lightly.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, she... she started talking about our Papi and... how proud he would be now that I have you and Anaís." Alexia replies, the same feeling from before taking over her. You smile sadly and wrap an arm around her shoulders, kissing her cheek.

"He really would." You whisper.

It falls quiet again, the only sounds being the tiny burps that Anaís lets out every so often, you and Alexia laughing quietly everytime. She grows tired after a little while, so Alexia cradles her back into her arms and you both watch as she quickly falls asleep in the company of her parents. It's a sight you don't think you could ever get sick of; it's perfect.

"It was nice seeing you so happy today." You say quietly to Alexia, not wanting to wake Anaís up.

"I am always happy, amor." Alexia replies in a confused tone.

"I know, but just seeing you at the game earlier, you seemed a different kind of happy."

"Because I have everything I have ever dreamed of now."

You might not have believed her at first - did she not already have that with all she's accomplished with football? But the way she looks into your eyes as she says it with so much earnest and love and a thousand other emotions swirling in her hazel orbs when she gazes at you, you might just believe her.

And two years later as you bake another cake, this time for Anaís' second birthday, a past memory - which seems incredibly distant now - washes over you. You mention it to Alexia, who's eyes light up instantly, though she doesn't immediately say what's on the tip of her tongue. You manage to coax it out of her, and this time around it's your turn to be completely caught off guard.

"I think we should have another soon."

You look up at her, surprised but completely on board with the idea. You say just that to her and afterwards, it goes quiet again as you stand doing your individual baking jobs with shy, excited smiles on your faces about the prospect of being parents again and growing your family. Anaís was such a happy and easy child, of course you'd have another if the next one turned out to be anything like her. And seeing Alexia with a newborn again? Absolutely.

However, you recognise a pattern in your family decision-making process.

"If we only want two kids though, we should probably stop baking cakes."

Part 2

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso #woso x reader

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suksatoru · 3 months ago

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𝙱𝙸𝚁𝚃𝙷𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙸𝙽 𝙱𝙴𝙳! 🍰♡ ༘*.ﾟ🧸🎀

synopsis; you and your daughter surprise your husband, satoru, on his birthday with breakfast in bed! ₊˚⊹♡🧁✧ ˚.

content; satoru!gojo x reader. daddy's girl ofccc

wc; 700⋆.˚

"Shh! We don't want daddy to wake up early on his birthday, right bubba?" You whisper with a smile, carefully taking the spoon from your daughters small, chubby hands as she peers up at you with a gummy smile

Today was Satoru's birthday - and as opposed as you were to sweets first thing in the morning, you believe your husband's sweet tooth will be absolutely thrilled by the surprise you had planned for him this fateful morning.

After lathering the remaining frosting onto the mini cupcake, you plate it before taking it with you to you and Satoru's bedroom - your baby trailed right behind you dutifully

Your daughter has just recently began to walk, so she still struggles to match your quick and excited steps as she wobbles behind you - clinging to your pajama pants as you slowly open your bedroom door

Satoru is laying on his stomach in bed, his pale hair ruffled from sleep with the slightest bit of drool running down his chin as he slept. You smile as you turn on the lamp to give the room some light - enough for you to maneuver yourself around the bed and plop yourself and your baby down onto it, but not enough to wake Satoru from his sleep.

"Dada." Your daughter whispers, poking Satoru's cheek with a giggle as Satoru mumbles something incoherent into his pillow - before his lashes are fluttering open when he smells fire

"What - " He starts, but is immediately cut off by the sight of his wife and daughter leaning over him with a small cupcake in hand - a sparkly candle lit atop it as you press a kiss onto his soft cheek

"Good morning, birthday man." You whisper, and Satoru smiles lazily as he wraps his arm around both of you, carefully placing the cupcake on his bedside table to hug the two of you freely as your daughter starts singing Happy birthday - her cheerful voice messing up a good seventy percent of the lyrics - but Satoru applauded her nonetheless after her little performance

"My little girl is a lovely singer. You think you can sing to me every morning?" Satoru teases with a sleepy laugh as your daughter claps her hands enthusiastically before crying out an adorable yes!

"How hard was it to convince mommy to give daddy a cupcake before breakfast? And without brushing my teeth!" Satoru adds with a dramatic gasp, tickling your daughter's belly as she squeals with laughter

"No brushing on daddy's birthday!"

He smiles as he looks at his little girl, one hand propping her up on his chest while his other hand holds yours under the blanket - he looks up at you from where he laid on the bed, a smirk forming on his handsome face

"No birthday kiss from mommy?" He teases, and you roll your eyes with a smile before you kiss him softly - he cradles the back of your head as he holds both you and your baby close to his chest while smiling against your lips - he sits up quickly after as your daughter folds herself under his arm while you hold out his cupcake in front of him

"You have to make a good wish, ok? " You say, and Satoru's heart swells at the sight of your smile

"There isn't a single other thing I could want." He whispers, the fire from the candle making his eyes shine in the dim room as you smile softly

"We'll all blow it out together, alright?" He says with a grin as your daughter rocks back and forth excitedly

"Ready?" He asks you, and you nod along with your little girl as Satoru begins to count down

"3..2..1!" He exclaims, and the three of you all blow the candle - the small fire is out in an instant, and you clap your hands with a laugh before you all begin eating the small cupcake - double chocolate, a perfect match for Satoru's sweet tooth

His birthday started off perfectly, with a lazy morning of breakfast in bed with his two favorite people in the world. No doubt you two had planned an amazing day for him on his birthday - he wouldn't have it any other way.

he's so daddy i can't (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) <333

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causenessus · 6 months ago

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love notes. | suna r.

she's always looking for new art. he's sending her pictures of romantic street art he finds in cities on away games. they say if you fall in love with an artist, you'll be in their art forever. she's the inspiration behind the love notes he's leaving on walls and sending her pictures of as if he's just stumbled upon them. he's the one she's thinking about everytime she's behind a camera.

suna x f! reader

COMPLETED haikyuu smau

taglist: CLOSED

playlists: 1 ( made by me </3 ) | 2 ( @eggyrocks's SUPERIOR playlist )

warnings & notes: language, alcohol/drinking, lots of written parts probably, extreme extreme pining, boths sides are in denial about how the other party feels about them, college timeskip, msby is a college volleyball team bc i said so and the team is slightly altered, timestamps don't matter, hurt & comfort having to do with family issues, comfort comes from found family <3, suna is a loverboy, miscommunication, friends to lovers, everyone's probably ooc. you can blame the horrors of my past relationships and zodiac sign. i know very little about photography and graffiti but i'm trying my best

THE EXHIBITS: coffee enthusiasts | ride or die bros for life

table of contents: (💌 for any chapters with written content <3)

part one: i know a guy (💌) part two: backstabbing bitch part three: rinnie poo (💌) part four: the "i'm disappointed" card part five: fire extinguisher man part six: rowdy teenagers (💌) part seven: there's life in these walls (💌) part eight: if you're willing to listen (💌) part nine: for as long as you'll have me (💌) part ten: connected the dots part eleven: would you light a building on fire for her? part twelve: support small businesses day part thirteen: big spoon deity part fourteen: one step forward, two steps back (💌) part fifteen: middle school boys locker room core part sixteen: remember in the morning (💌) part seventeen: sorry omi / the incident (💌) part eighteen: making mac and cheese at two in the morning? (💌) part nineteen: unspoken confessions (💌) part twenty: epilogue (💌)

moodboards: love notes, suna, y/n, suna & y/n

extras: kenma photography refs, suna & y/n sending each other tiktoks hc

thank you for reading love notes <3

#suna rintarou #rintarou suna #suna #sunarin #suna x reader #suna smau #suna x reader smau #haiykuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #ness' planet ⋆⭒˚.⋆

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spyder-junkie · 2 years ago

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EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER part 4

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

drop idea for the next part because Im running outta steam lol

It isnt long before you and Miles are hanging out every other day.

You would see him after school when you could, or he would sneak into your room at night.

And this goes on for weeks.

That is until you’re talking to Miles one night outside his flat.

You wish him goodbye, kissing his cheek and being on your way. He goes inside, and as you’re about half way down the block, you get a text.

‘my momma saw you kiss me through the window, she wants to meet you.’

You literally stand still on the sidewalk for a moment, heart beating in your chest.

So the two of you try to schedule a day where you can sit down and meet Rio.

You pitch the following day, but she has to work late at the hospital.

Miles pitches friday, but you have an afterschool study session

So you pick that sunday, which works until Miles calls you and tells you Rio was scheduled a later shift and wouldnt be able to cook that day.

“How about we cook instead? To give her a break.” You say.

Miles’ face scrunches up in the facetime.

“I cant cook.” He says plainly.

“But I can, it could be a surprise.” You say.

So thats what you do. Miles tells Rio and Aaron they’ll order food that afternoon, and you and Miles go to the store to get groceries in the morning.

Miles sat at the island of the kitchen, his head in his hand as he watched you cook.

He was playing music for you, a couple modern hispanic pop songs.

“Shes really gonna like this.” Miles said, small smike on his face.

“I hope so.” You reply, mixing something in a pot.

You put your spoon down, letting the food cook while you turn to Miles.

You reach your hand out, prompting him to stand infront of you.

You smile up at him, swaying your hips softly in tune of the music.

He follows your lead, a little smoother than you expected.

He hums along softly to the song, spinning your around the kitchen.

“Youre light on your feet.” You say, letting him twirl you.

The two of you dance and laugh until the kitchen timer dings, in which you break away to check the food.

And unbeknownst to you, Rio stands at the front door, Aaron at her side as she peers through the opened crack.

“Theyre gonna realize youre watching em.” He says, a smirk plasterd on his face.

“I havent seen my baby dance since he was a baby.” Rio whispers.

She waits until the two of you begin plating the food to smooth her scrubs out and open the door.

“Estoy en casa.” She said softly, catching Miles’s eyes.

“Whats all this?” She had a sort of unreadable expression on her face.

“Miles told me you wouldnt have time to cook, so I thought why not cook for you?” You say timidly.

You take you oven mits off and walk up to Rio.

“Soy s/n, gusto en conocerla Sra. Morales” You smile, holding your hand out to her.

Her expression cracks, a smile gracing her lips.

“Encantada de conocerte, nice spanish you have there.”

You then hold your hand out to Aaron.

“Nice to meet you too Mr.Aaron.”

Aaron is a bit more curt with his handshake, his face still stoic. He hums out a little “mhm” as he shakes your hand.

“Shes pretty, Miles.” Rio gushes, then she turns to you. “Youre really pretty.”

miles shrugs with a cocky grin on his face, leaning against the kitchen island.

You smile and thank her, walking back to the stove.

“Miles mentioned how much you like puerto rican dishes, so i made mofongo and Arroz con gandules.”

Rio looks over the food, taking a moment to smell over the aromas.

“Your abuela used to make this when you were little, Miles.” She says fondly, then she shakes her head.

“This looks great, lets eat. Miles help me set the table.”

So while you plate the food, Rio and Miles set the table. The four of you sat down to eat not before long, You and Miles on one side of the table, Rio and Aaron on the other.

“You did real good here, ma.” Miles says, mouth half full.

“He’s right, you know your way around a kitchen. Isnt that right Aaron?” Rio elbows him.

Aaron humms a ‘mhm’ eating well nonetheless.

“You know Unc,” Miles begins, putting a spoonful of rice in his mouth.

“Y/n might be able to fix your truck.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow at you, your eyes widening.

“Oh- I, uh, my dad works with cars, Miles told me you were having some issues, maybe i could take a look at it.” You say softly, tensing under his gaze.

“Its an engine problem. I doubt you can fix it.” He says.

Before you can say anything, Miles and Rio protest at the same time.

“Cmon man.”

“Give her a chance.”

Aaron rolls his eyes.

“….you can come look at it after dinner.” He says, getting back to his meal.

When everyone finishes their meal and the conversation dies down, Aaron gets up from the table.

“Lets go.” He huffs.

You and Miles stand up and follow him to the door just before he puts his hand to Miles’ chest.

“Help your moma with the dishes.”

“Man what I-“ Miles’ face scrunches up in irritation as Aaron gives him a pointed look.

“We’ll be back.” He says, motioning you to follow him.

And you do, you follow him down to the parking deck. He leads you to a mini garage labeled with a different apartment number than the one Miles stays in, probably for a different building.

Silently he pops the hood of the car for you, propping open his took box and motioning towards the car. He then crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

You gulp.

Quietly you scan your eyes over the mechanics inside the hood, looking to see what could be wrong with the engine.

“The start up is weak.” Aaron says suddenly.

“Took her to the mechanics and they quoted me 7 hundred to fix it.”

“Oh, why didnt they just give it a flush?” You ask, turning to him.

He raises an eyebrow.

You look around the garage for a mechanic creep, stretching it out and rolling your way under the hood of the car. Taking a wrench, you dislodge a couple bolts, pulling a pannel open.

“Do you have a watter bottle?” You ask, reaching your grease soaked hand our from under the car.

Theres shuffling, then a new watter bottle is placed in your hand.

You flush out part of the engine, using a given rag to dry it out and placing the pannel back on. Then you roll out from under the car, wiping your forehead.

“Try starting her up.” You say.

Aaron gets in the car, putting the key in and starting it up. And it starts up smooth.

A suprised expression crosses his face, followed by a smile.

“Id do that every 2-3 months, if you do it too much those parts will rust.” You say, coming up besides him while wiping your hands with a rag.

Aaron claps your back suddenly, beaming down at you.

“Thanks babygirl, I might have to get you in here on off days, get a set of extra hands on the projects we’re working on.”

You wonder if he’s talking about prowler things.

You dont ask though, giving a small ‘you’re welcome’ and walking after him as he closes the garage.

The walk back is quiet for a while, then Aaron speaks.

“My nephew has a lot going on in his life.” He says.

“If you can keep him focused on what’s important, Ion’ mind you staying around.”

You look over at him, then nod your head.

When the two of you return to the apartment, you’re laughing at the embarrassing Miles stories Aaron is telling you.

“Well, how’d it go?” Rio asks, a little surprised at Aaron’s joyfulness.

“She saved me 7 hundred, so pretty well.” He smiles.

“See i knew you could handle it.” Miles nudges your shoulder and kisses your cheek.

“Y/n.” Rio calls you name. Her and Aaron look at each other, then at you.

“¿Puedo hablar contigo un momento?”

You look at her and nod, noticing Aaron usher miles into another room.

“Yes ma’am?” You say, sitting at the dining table across from her.

“You know I love my son.” She begins. The air is a little tense now.

“I love him more than anything else, more than he’ll ever know. And he has lost a lot. I dont want to see him hurt again.” She looks at you seriously.

“I dont want to see him hurt ever.” You reply.

“Lets make a deal, then.” Rio says.

“You take care of him, make sure he knows hes loved, and be there for him in the places I cant, and no matter what youll always be welcome here in my home.”

You smile, shaking her out stretched hand.

“Deal.”

The rest of the evening you spend having hearty conversations with Rio and Aaron in the living room.

Miles has you pressed to his side, his hand on your knee.

Sometime into the night you notice him drifting off beside you, his head drooping onto your shoulder peacefully.

And after a while its time for you to go home.

“Walk her home boy.” Aaron quipped, smacking Miles on the back of his neck and startling him awake.

Miles glares at his uncle, getting up to grab his shoes and meet you by the door.

And he walks you home, hand in yours and shoulders relaxed. And once you’re home, you kiss him on the cheek and wish him goodnight.

Then maybe an hour later, after youve showered and gotten into your pajamas, you get a text.

“You did good today, Hermosa, Im proud of you. Also, my mom really likes you, she said come back soon”

tags: @tishsrealwife @call-me-nev @hana-1235 @youcantseem3 @kaealowri @unadulteratedwizardrunaway @kezibear @urmotherswhor3 @ladylovegood-69 @thetoetickler @cumbermovels @cozmicwonder @yams-ley @sh-tposter2021 @vampjacinda @roadkillmeal @animechick555 @the-smut-plug @iluvdi0r @stevenknightmarc @yoashh @kitsunna @caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

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capslocked · 1 year ago

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 2

[prompt: mutual masturbation] male reader x jang wonyoung 4k words

If nothing else, Jang Wonyoung is a creature of habit.

Always orders her americano cold. Brown sugar and cinnamon cream cheese on her bagel. Walks three and a half steps behind her manager whenever they make their rounds: hair salon, corner pharmacy, the office, local record store. And for as long as she's been sharing your bed, she's insisted on that horrendous alarm clock from the late 90s that chirps the early-morning wakeup like a dying robot-parakeet.

All of it has worked for her so far, she’ll tell you. Which you find hard to argue with.

So - when she arrives home later than usual on an ordinary Thursday, she doubles down on routine. Where there's comfort in predictability. Coat on the third hook, boots below, fingers in her hair twisting to undo a messy bun, and a soft, delicate, "It's me," once she steps over the threshold.

“Hey,” you say to her, tilting your head. "You look, bedraggled."

"Well," and Wonyoung brushes aside the handful of her damp hair not stuck to her neck. There are faint marks just at her temple, in a faded half-circle, not unlike what would happen if your pillow wasn't comfortable. Or, you know. Some boyfriend that she's not supposed to have getting a hand tangled into all that long hair and pulling tight, like she tells him not to do. "That's probably true."

"Is it raining?"

"It was earlier." She eyes the spoonful of yogurt you're about to lick off, leaning back against the counter and tapping at the ceramic bowl. Frowns. "Is that one of the last blueberry ones. I take those for my lunch."

"I can always get more."

"Uh-huh." She drops her phone, keys, and spare change from her pockets into the large wicker bowl that lives near the end of the hall, by the closet and coat hooks. She has a sort of despondent energy about her when she comes into the kitchen. Less a look, more of a stance. A rub at her shoulder, this back and forth in her neck like she's working out a kink.

And because she looks tired and her hair is damp and she isn't busy kissing you right away, that's when you reach out. Let a finger slide across her skin, under her collar, pull aside the cotton.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Mind if I join you? You could use a hand." You end up holding hers in your own for a moment. Just, looking. "If you want."

There's something unidentifiable in her stare. She might have gone on believing nothing was different if not for the length of that pause - you, and the warmth from your body and the warmth of your hands on her shoulders, sliding into her neck, then-

She rises up on her toes and presses a light, almost shy kiss into your chin. And, well, if she had the strength to reach anywhere more than that, she'd let her fingertips find and curl around the smooth curve of your ear and say, very softly - barely audible - "take your clothes off. I'm already soaking wet. If you don't help, I'll run out of hot water before the conditioner's worked its way through."

But it's not for tonight; she's tired, wants it simple, maybe. Maybe wants to leave it for a better day.

"I just want to get cleaned up. It's been a long day."

"Fine by me." You point your spoon at her. "That's what it's for."

“Such a fucking gentleman," she murmurs, patting a palm at the front of your chest.

You smile first, playful - just this side of annoying - the exact thing she's kicking herself months later for having fallen for. And with another spoonful of yogurt, "you know me."

In your defense, Wonyoung has always had the cutest reaction to it. The quirk that she tries to keep from forming in the corner of her mouth, small and contained, like if you asked her about her day, she'd play it off. Let a sentence out with no punctuation. Which she often does: she's been fine, and that's the full length of her response.

But later, when she climbs into bed - when her face is in your hands and her lips are brushing past your cheek - when her hair smells like peach shampoo, and your chin is tucked into the nape of her neck, just the beginning of all the ways you plan to spoil her, you have to tease. Always, "I thought we weren't fucking until tomorrow, or was that a lie?"

A little bit of distance to keep your mind on track, and not thinking about her spread out under you, wide-eyes, and saying: yes.

You’re propped up against the headboard. You were reading, or watching tv. It doesn’t matter which when Wonyoung straddles your legs and drags her hand up your chest. Up and under her nightgown, the silky, thin, light blue material, until she has the collar cupped in her fist and her knees straddling your thigh. "Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"No. Not allowed." Your breath catches. Because she is gorgeous, especially like this: tired, and pretty, and sweet, and thinking, deeply and meticulously and with great consideration, of climbing into your lap and asking if you'd help. If she'd be distracting enough - if she had the words to entice you into staying very close, without actually promising anything, because this, what she's wearing, how it's so tight to her form and how it is easily torn or bunched aside when she reaches down with both hands and starts to fiddle with the fabric at her waist, near her navel - is all entirely purposeful.

Wonyoung raises her eyebrow in question - silently: an exception, maybe, for me?

The way you're talking her up with both hands at the very smallest dip between her ribs and the bones jutting out above her hips, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive places along her thighs - pressing, a steady rhythm.

"Do you want it bad, princess?"

"Stop." Wonyoung wrinkles her nose at that and glares. But she knows better than anyone else. She lives in that contradiction, visible as it plays across her face when her back arcs and arches. When her breathing does this slow and deep in and out and you've leaned in with just enough pressure to make it feel good, in your kiss, a soft tug, a bite. A slow laving tongue leaving lazy patterns across her skin.

"Just want to make sure," you insist. Then, the question is being murmured against her chest. Then it's being whispered into the crook of her neck - which earns the single most content of sounds:

"A little, yeah, you ass."

"My mouth? My fingers? Or are you looking for something more... involved?"

"Maybe I'm looking," she says, pulling a curtain of glossy black hair back over her ear, "for you to figure that out."

"Aren’t you coy." You grab at her hair again - the second time today, for the second-worst of reasons. To tilt her head and gaze up at her like you're willing to live in the space beneath her. "We'd start slow?" you ask, and with a press of your open mouth against her collarbone, she brings her arms around you.

"Very slowly," Wonyoung says. She has one hand curling through bedsheets to feel if you're anywhere near as hard as she is wet. Her touch is fleeting, barely a whisper. "We don't have to rush it. Maybe we could do that thing."

You laugh out loud, and the vibration of it alone, coursing through your chest, your waist, up between her legs, has Wonyoung wanting. "That could mean anything at this point."

Wonyoung just looks down at you, fingernails grazing over your stomach, your chest, as she peels your shirt up over your head and tosses it aside the bed. And then, the idea, "get your phone."

"Hm. I'm going to say something that might come off as a little... something, but I mean it in the most respectful way." It's not a far reach, to where yours is charging on the nightstand. You're tapping in the passcode to your lockscreen when you spell it out for the girl in your lap: "you're low-key kind of a freak."

Wonyoung closes her eyes. Smiles. Her hair is spilling over one shoulder, some strewn across her chest, where she cups the underside of her breasts and sits her elbows into your shoulders and wriggles her ass a little lower in your lap. Until the tips of her hair are brushing the space below her belly-button, teasing-soft at the warm, pliant flesh.

"Pot." She bites into her lip, just slightly. "Meet kettle."

It doesn't take long to find what she's looking for; twitter's full of it. A video of her that'd gone viral. Or not quite viral, but circulated - bounced from account to account, thousands and thousands of hits - the shot by shot of the choreo that sees her bending over at the waist, touching her fingertips to the hem of a plaid-checked skirt, with this perfect posture, straight up through the hips to arch the back and lift and turn her shoulders at the right angle, so there's no mistake she's looking straight at the camera.

“You look good here,” you remark, scrolling a little further. She's grown so used to it that she doesn't even look.

Instead, it's her fingers that do the talking: moving a little faster. Touching a little deeper and harder over the gray cloth of her underwear. She runs a circle over the spot that has her rubbing her hips forward, breath shaky, back in your ear. "I always look good, don't I?"

"Obviously."

Her jaw falls into the crook of your neck. There's no escaping it: this heat, and she sighs. Mumbled and warm. This is the worst thing, she mutters - like you can't feel how incredibly hard it's getting to see her touch herself and act all shy, so the words are half-concentrating on her own breath, the other half focused, hazy. In her face. In her chest.

So, again. Wonyoung swallows a sigh. Breathes and runs her touch along the edges. That spot and where the wet has started to soak through the fabric, her thighs rubbing and sliding and finding new pressure.

“Here’s a particularly nasty one," you tell her.

Wonyoung turns her mouth into your neck, lips leaving these kisses while she presses down her fingers and rides. Hard, heavy strokes where her hand moves quicker with a sharp huff to her inhale. You click open another thread - another snapshot of that tight little ass of hers, the smooth skin over the dip of her hips, and the long curve of her back-

"Read it."

And with the music all distorted and choppy through tinny phone speakers, you say: "some guy can't decide if he'd like to spank you or pull your hair."

"Uh-huh." You feel her chin dig in where it's placed itself, over the flat of your shoulder.

"Then there's an awful lot here about how much the commenter wants to rail you. They get pretty vulgar." You look up from the screen and raise an eyebrow, the words coming into place, "Wonyoung has grown up so well," and the next part is so easy, "this little cocktease has been begging me to drain my balls for her for too long. I have to fucking oblige."

"God." She slips a finger into her panties to rub at her pussy - you know because the contact is audible, wet - and she drags a palm up and down, pressing in hard. Her lips part over a shaky punched out breath - this hot, wet puff of air - when she drags her mouth over the smooth skin of your collarbone. Where she feels at liberty to bite a hickey into the taut line of your neck, and draw her mouth, open and hot, up into your jaw. "Cocktease, huh?"

"Always the impression you leave." And with one, long, indulgent swipe, and a pinch on the wet material that's plastered itself, sheer and transparent and a beautiful outline to your cock, you glance to see Wonyoung smiling. That one that's all cheekbones. All teeth. All sort of sly.

"Can you," and there's not even an attempt, not even a sliver of an ounce of thought toward trying to hide the ache in her voice.

(You're there before she has to ask.)

“The concept of ‘Baddie’ does suit her, I think,” you start to read, “no one would believe it, but Wonyoung is the perfect little slut. Grade A baddie. Capital 'b'. She keeps teasing us with that tight, toned body and her slutty expressions. Someone’s ruining her on the regular. Not a doubt in my mind. A piece of ass that fine doesn’t go a week without it.”

"I do like when they talk about you," Wonyoung purrs out, and her hand slips down your chest. A touch, always warm and heavy and searching and all your fault lands right at your waist. On the bone that juts out at her thumb and forefinger. Which is exactly where she'd start palming you over your underwear, but with something close and confident in her eye, this mischievous idea taking shape in her gaze. You can't deny it: she has something dangerous in store.

"About how they think I am."

And when you place your hand back at her hairline, trailing her neck, her shoulder, Wonyoung sighs. From the top of her chest.

"What else does it say?" She breathes out a desperate exhale. This low-slung sort of groan. She looks hungry, and so unafraid to be. Eyes all smoldering. Hips all wriggling. Pushing a rhythm with those desperate grinds over your leg. The mess, in the softest sense, of her mouth, panting against the smooth line of your jaw. And voice, hoarse, murmuring something about: "how are they planning to ruin me?"

"Princess, you-"

Wonyoung angles her hips just that inch. A moan, just at the barest amount of friction, barely a grind, her soaked pussy rubbing against the flesh of your upper thigh, that feels like an earthquake hitting your throat. That makes your eyes flutter closed for just one second and groan, your whole chest singing for her.

You swallow hard. "How can anyone go on calling this innocent-"

Wonyoung’s fingers slip past the elastic, your cock springing free against her thigh and bobbing gently. "Play along," she tells you, this hint of command, and maybe a tease - playful and familiar. "I don't want to be the only one ruining their underwear." She smiles like she has plans, and it's downright infuriating in the best way.

“In the song, she even calls herself a ‘pretty little risky baddie’ and means that whatever happens, happens. She’s announcing that she’s not on birth control and that she knows all she’s good for is getting fucked and used and bred like a toy.”

“And?” she asks, the fingers between her legs fluttering out tiny circles of respite - moving fast, faster -

It takes more than a couple seconds, because your breath halts in your throat the moment your fist finds the blood pulsing through your cock, joining her in slow, full-length, smooth motions, watching, always. Seeing her, all the way: with every slow and steady roll of her hips that moves her slick-covered-panties along your skin. The expression in the hooded eyes, this flash of her pink tongue and the way it curls over the seam of her plush-soft lip. That subtle shift in the arch of her back and the clenching muscle up her arm and leg-

Watching is where you find yourself at: all the way, everywhere. The tremble in the flex of her spine to the sound she makes from her throat at the same time. When Wonyoung moves closer. How you breathe, ragged, but eager. You're both all nerves, the damp heat building up the soft and quiet parts of the both of you and neither of you are bothered about the sweat sticking the shirt to her skin - this wet heat, a daze, a smell in the air that has Wonyoung rocking and rotating on your lap.

"I would start," you continue reading, paraphrasing slightly the unhinged words of someone typing one-handed, and your voice comes out odd, thick. "-start with my cock forced into that little throat, she'd look so perfect with her eyes watering while she gags on my cum, the filthy sounds she would be making. She'd beg for more like the slutty princess she is-"

Wonyoung shifts her weight, and lets out this moan.

"-I'm not convinced Wonyoung would even be satiated by being railed in her pretty little pussy until she's crying. Wouldn't be enough if she only choked on it while cum dripped down her chin, leaving those little dollops along the edges, slipping and glazing on her tongue. Probably wants the messiest, hottest load. No condom. Lying flat. Clenching. Could you imagine, bare? Wanting to be used for real, want us filling her so badly she'd barely even be able to move, or think, or process anything except how much of an overstimulated slut she would be: helpless. Soaking."

And you look at her as you stroke - the same tempo. Pre-cum leaking from the flushed head. Making a show of it. Watching her lips drop into something slack-jawed. This isn't even the filthiest thought she's ever heard - the roughest fantasy brought to life she's ever imagined - and yet.

"They go on for a long time about breeding you."

Wonyoung manages this incoherent half-word - a word of want, more of the kind of fucking she'd be receiving with her knees and palms to a mattress, her throat dry and face sticky with cum and tears and sweat. You know her body and what she likes, and this:

"-I would fuck her while she screams, her fingers tearing at the bedsheets and her vision so blurry and brain all fogged over, only able to respond in pained moans and deep-seated need-"

Her throat bobs.

You don't need to turn the phone over to find the end. Wonyoung lets it fall faceup onto the bedspread as she pulls your wrist toward the heat between her legs, all messy and slick. "Touch me," she's murmuring, guiding your hand lower until you have the thin strip of fabric tenting just off her lips and you press a digit inside, another - until Wonyoung clenches all around you - until she brings her wet fingers to your own ache, the hot length of your cock, pumping up and down, a stroke. Until she licks them, and places her forehead into the center of your collarbone, mumbling this broken, "Just... put-your-fucking-hands-" and her next breath, like a sharp and sudden wind.

When she’s this worked up, it doesn't take long: Wonyoung arches, slow and sinful, her shoulders curving down to present her chest, to make her small breasts and pert, hardened nipples visible even through the cotton of her shirt, her lips falling open - you slip two fingers to the base, then three. Plunging them in quick and ruthless, Wonyoung bucking into the heel of your hand, fucking her pussy on you so her thighs are slick, squelch after squelch-

“Fuck,” she whispers, this long note of exasperation, right into your cheek, and the intensity and urgency has her fucking her hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers, working her cunt like it's made for pleasure alone, and your cock-

The base of your throat burns. “Yeah,” you tell her, “just like that. Jerk that cock just like that, Wonyoung.”

Both of you are there, cumming into each other's hands, in the dimmed lights of your bedroom, heaving short, wet, sinful breaths into each other's mouths, because it's become one: her eyes and yours, blown wide. Her thighs shaking, your hips stuttering.

You roll and curl and spread your digits, holding Wonyoung's ass into her strokes. Tug the strap aside to hook a thumb in and press into her hot skin and warm muscle, driving further, deeper. Harder and firmer - pressing down, fast and vicious until she's making a series of sounds, whine-like and so soft.

"With me," she chokes out, swallowing down on the noise that falls out of her chest as fingers continue to slide around you like a vice. Her palm on you with so much pressure. "Fuck. I want you to cum."

It hits you - at first, not even particularly surprising, the rush of blood through your head.

"I wanna see it," she demands in a small, not particularly loud voice, so shy and small as the backs of her feet scramble for a hold on the mattress and she comes so hard - again, a sigh. "-feel your cum all over my knuckles, baby, cum on my-"

As to whether you or Wonyoung release first, tension coiled like a spring - well, it's anyone's guess.

"Wony-" Your mouth is open, eyes clenched tight, when Wonyoung bites a kiss down on your lip. All-consuming is the only way to describe the kind of desperation in her noises. It's everything, the sound and feeling, her wanting, her needing. All that wet heat - your stomach tightening, then slack, muscles stiffened up and falling loose as your grip becomes too tight, too heavy around the girl whose fist you're fucking and jerking and riding through this white-hot-blinding-orgasm, her wrist buckling to let you use her.

It's all that cum, lathering Wonyoung's palm, the space between her fingers, wrist and your shaft, slipping, easy. A whole puddle.

It's a few, careful strokes of her thumb and she's holding you up through that oversensitive high, forcing all that cum onto her belly, the hem of her nightshirt, all sorts of slick and messy. "Fuck, shit-" your hand still over her hot cunt, while hers just lays her weight over you, her lithe, slender body landing like it had lost any preference for form, for structure.

"Ugh," Wonyoung finally manages to get out.

"God." You collapse, leaning into the headboard behind you. With Wonyoung wrapped over your chest. Into your arm. Around your waist and mouth buried somewhere into the sweep of your neck: exhausted, entirely.

When she comes around, she does, however, make it an effort to use her tongue. Teasing along your jaw. A slip. And that makes you wonder.

"Messy," she says, wiping the back of her hand on your thigh, because where else should the proof end up.

"Ah."

She bites in, then tugs - lips on yours, until you lean up and wrap around the middle of her back, down into her hair and her hips. Because this part of her has never had a preference: to be treated either with the kind of affection and reverence afforded to an object of worship, or manhandled like someone, someone, no doubt has their fingers on her the instant she turns her ass this way or that.

"I could," she says, eyes unfocused and foggy - licking over the swell of her lip, "use a hand cleaning this up."

"Shower?"

“Mhmm.” Wonyoung slides her long legs off you, and in a look that's all too intentional, turns to move away and slip her nightshirt up, and-

Oh.

Right over her head. Then she tosses it aside like it's nothing. Wears the same sort of look that someone who hadn't had your fingers buried between their legs might. "Or, a bath sounds nice, if I’m allowed to change my mind."

"Say less, princess."

#wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader #kpop smut #capslocked kinkvember

2K notes · View notes

chlix · 4 months ago

Text

juno

bf! minho x fem! reader: you have baby fever. your boyfriend wants to be with you forever. turns out you can kill 2 birds with 1 stone

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive (MDNI, explicit dialogue)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, jokes about a breeding kink, marriage proposal, y/n is a little spoiled i gotta admit, this one is all over the place ya'll

a/n: minho's fic in my album series! this one is based on "juno". y/n is a LOT in this one but i found it way more fun and fitting to the song to write her that way rather than actually being down to earth and reasonable lol

You’re out at a mall with your friend Jia, having a lazy day shopping and eating overpriced food from the shops in the central plaza. It's been a while since you had time to bum around with her, and your boyfriend, Minho, had said he'd drive you there and take care of his own errands while he waited. He'd even handed you his second credit card and told you to get whatever you wanted, much to Jia's amusement. You wish you were more put off by him flaunting his money, but unfortunately you passed that point long ago. It's also due to the fact that his money is much appreciated at this point in your life. Currently, you’re a bit of a NEET; after you had to quit your last job, you’ve been doing little except sitting at home, attempting TikTok recipes, doing housework and fantasizing about having things like hobbies and life goals aside from marrying your boyfriend.

“That’s nothing new for you, though,” your friend Jia says. “You inherited the suburban princess aesthetic from your mother.”

“You say that as if we weren't raised on the same street” you say, words thick around the spoon of froyo in your mouth. “We’re both suburban princesses.”

Your eyes roam around the mall, people watching as you often do. Next to the frozen yogurt place you had just visited, there is a mother with her small toddler at the counter. The mother is stylishly dressed, in cute jeans and a red sweater, and her daughter matches perfectly in a tiny little red turtleneck and a corduroy pinafore press. She’s wearing little charms in her hair and has a backpack with a bunch of dangly charms that jingle as she fidgets. She is eyeing the froyo on the counter with big eyes as she waits for her mother to pay for it, ever so patient and polite. The cashier waves at her and the toddler waves back.

“Stopppp, look at them. Isn’t that girl so cute?”

Jia follows your eyeline to the mother and daughter at the froyo counter.

“She is. I love how her and mom are matching.”

“I can’t wait to have a little mini-me that I can wear matching outfits with.”

“You and I wear matching outfits all the time.”

“Yes, but I want to do it with someone cute.”

Jia’s eyes roll so hard that you know it must’ve hurt.

“Since when do you want kids, y/n?”

“Since always. Or I don’t know. Maybe I just was worried that it would be difficult? Or that I’d never find the right guy? But I think Minho would be a good father, so it’s kind of made me think about it again.”

“He seems like he’d be good with kids.”

“When we babysit my nephew, he’s really good with him. And he’s always been so attentive to me in everything, so I just know he would double down during pregnancy. He’d take bullets for me. He’d protect me, he’d bring me all my favorite foods he’d take care of me-”

“He really should be doing that all the time, not just when you’re pregnant. Like, what kind of cavewoman logic is this? Are you in heat or something?”

You take another bite of your froyo and savor it.

You’ve known Jia forever, and at this point her comments to you about your love life just go in one ear and out the other. She’s the one who introduced you to Minho, actually, so you’d thought maybe she’d spare you the lectures, but she seems to think your impulsivity would overrule Minho’s common sense. This isn’t you being impulsive, though. You’ve actually thought about it an embarrassing amount- the concept of Minho fathering your children. It’s not just some passing fancy.

When you’re thoroughly done enjoying your vanilla-passion fruit swirl, you deign to answer her.

“First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, no I’m not in heat. Is it so wrong to dream of motherhood? To yearn for something to care for?”

“You have three cats and seven potted plants.”

“I mean something that can love me back.”

“I’m telling Dori you said that.”

You ignore her, already lost in your little domestic fantasy. You could already imagine it. You could have a little girl who looked exactly like you. Or maybe just like you with Minho’s pretty eyes. You’ll develop all the “mom skills”, like sewing and kissing boo-boos and making baking soda volcanoes. And Minho would be there, giving her piggyback rides and pushing her on swing sets. He’d call both of you his “princesses” and you could take cute family photos for Christmas and mail them all your relatives. A perfect domestic life.

“Hello? Earth to y/n?”

You blink. Jia is looking at you with an exasperated expression.

“I’d ask you what you’re thinking about, but I already know.”

“Oh, really.”

“You only get that stupid expression on your face when you think about Minho.” Jia crumples up her trash and reaches behind her to throw it in a trash can. “Does he know you are having delusions of domesticity?”

“It’s not delusional. We’ve been together for like two years. We’ve talked about the future.”

“So he wants kids?”

“He wants whatever I want,” you say, and you can hear the lovesickness in your voice even before Jia lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Go ask him to get you pregnant right now then. He seems like the type to think that’s really hot.”

“Everything I do is hot. I’m a catch. I’d look extra hot pregnant. Working so hard even when I’m just sitting around all day.”

“Your favorite activity.”

You wink cheekily. “Of course. You should give it a try sometime.”

“Give what a try?”

A familiar voice from behind you makes you perk up. You whip around to see your boyfriend in the flesh, coming up behind you. He’s finally arrived. His presence improves your mood by approximately one thousand percent. You can sit up straighter and breathe deeper. The sun shines brighter on your face. His pace is so leisurely that it’s driving you mad. You want to stand up and drag him closer to you, so that as much of you is touching you as possible. The meter between you feels like a nautical mile.

Christ, maybe you are in heat. You think it’s possible you’ve been permanently ovulating since you met Minho. Just seeing him coming has you contemplating breaking several civil laws.

Jia rats you out immediately. “We’re talking about pregnancy.”

“Oh.” Minho stops where he is, as if blocked by an invisible wall. “Is someone you know expecting?”

“Not yet,” Jia says.

“Jia,” you hiss.

Jia ignores you, revenge for forcing her to listen to you for the past half hour.

“Y/n thinks that pregnancy suits her lifestyle. She thinks she’d look hot pregnant. What’s your opinion on the topic?”

“Don’t answer that,” you tell him. “Jia, come on.”

Jia shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that crazy of a question. Your boyfriend should think you look hot all the time.”

“And I do,” Minho interjects, smiling slyly. “Especially right now, as you’re staring daggers at me.”

Jia leans up and stage whispers to Minho, eyes still trained on you. “She specifically said ‘extra hot’, just so you know.”

“I struggle to think she could get any hotter,” Minho says in answering stage whisper. “She’d look equally pretty frozen solid, or zombified.”

“You know the saying is ‘until death do us part?’ You don’t have to keep loving her as a zombie.”

You try to be annoyed but you’re too busy cheesing for it to have any effect. “Okay haha fun’s over. Take me home now.”

Jia boos you as Minho grabs your hand to help you off the bench.

“As you wish,” he says, and kisses your hand with a flourish.

“I’ve gotta get going too. See you later, y/n.” She stands up and grabs her bag, then pauses and turns back. “If you’re pregnant the next time I see you, I will kill you.”

“You seriously give me no credit.”

Jia gives you an absolutely withering look and walks off.

“I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” you say mournfully. “She’s gonna start keeping tabs on me.”

“We’ll lock our doors and windows,” Minho says, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Home?”

Later that night, you’re lying on the couch searching up pictures of baby clothes. You have an entire Pinterest board for your future baby, and today’s scene at the park has inspired you to add to the collection. You scroll through little images of kids in duck outfits and Hello Kitty themed socks, of cute little barrettes to put in their wispy bangs. Your kids are going to be so well-dressed. They’ll make the other toddlers at the daycare jealous, and maybe even the moms too.

That’s good, though. It’s important to learn how to deal with adversity from a young age.

Your daughter is gonna be so well socialized and assertive and thick-skinned, just like her parents. She’ll get such good grades and be very polite. And you’ll get to show up to parent teacher conferences as the hottest mom in the entire class, which will be good for your ego, and then you can pass that confidence down to your child. It’ll be perfect. Your life will be perfect. You can see it in such clear and vivid detail.

Minho passes by you on the way back from the bathroom and glances down at your phone.

“Baby clothes?”

You blink up at him. You’re not embarrassed at being caught, but you are a little annoyed that he’s interrupted your daydreaming with one of his gateway questions.

“Yes. Our future child has to be up on fashion trends.”

“The fashion trends will have changed by the time you have a baby to dress up.”

To your own surprise, your heart actually stutters with the reminder that you are currently not, in fact, with child.

“Don’t remind me,” you whine, rolling over to hide your face in the cushions. “Jia already lectured me today.”

“Lectured?”

You partially roll back over to look up at him. “She says that I’m being delusional for wanting a baby so badly.”

“How is wanting to be a mother delusional?”

“Right? And I told her like what are you talking about, we’ve already talked about the future, and we’re gonna have kids, and she just gave me this look.”

“Jia’s just looking out for you. She doesn’t want you to rush into things.”

“Jia is a cynic and a skeptic. She thinks we’re too young to have a baby.”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Your visions of being a MILF dance through your head. “I think having kids young would be cute.”

Now Minho looks skeptical. “Really? Since when.”

“Since I had a paradigm shift. I always knew I wanted them, in a vague sense. But now I know that I want to have them with you, specifically, so it’s been on my mind a lot more.”

“You want to have my kids?”

You bristle. “Well they’d be my kids, too, y’know.”

“I know that-”

“And who else’s kids would they be? Do you envision us breaking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Minho says. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Right. So then eventually I’ll be having your kids. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Minho sits down next to you on the couch. “That’s really what you want?”

“Yes?” A single pang of doubt flashes across your chest. “Do you not want that?”

“No, I do, baby. I’d love to have a family with you. I just want to be sure we’re on the same page, and we’ve thought it through.”

“Well, like you said, we’re still young.” Jia’s admonishment of not being married flashes through your mind. “But sometimes I see little kids in public, or on TV, and I think, God, I want a baby so bad. Y’know? I want to be pregnant. I want to glow like that, and everything.”

Something complicated passes over his face. A lightbulb goes off in your head. It’s the same expression that he had when Jia had mentioned to him the topic of your conversation.

“Oh my god. You actually do think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Didn’t I say that at the mall?”

“No, you were teasing me. But now you’re being for real. You want to knock me up.”

Minho says nothing, but the tips of his ears redden. You shoot upright, delighted at the turn of events.

“Oh my god, you actually want to knock me up!”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No! Of course not. I want to be the only girl you want, and I want you to want me in every way.”

“Well you are, and I do,” he says flatly. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations is right,” you say. You’re giddy with energy. “Have you thought about it a bunch? Is that why you wanted me on the pill? So you could cum in me and indulge your breeding kink?”

“I don’t have a breeding kink.I just love you. There’s a difference.”

“You’ve said at least five times today you think I’d be hot while I’m pregnant,” you remind him. “Seems kind of breeding kink-ish to me.”

“You have spent the entire day fantasizing about having my kids. That’s the definition of a breeding kink.” Minho leans further into your space, and though his words are teasing, his tone is decidedly not. You feel heat start to run through you, and not from embarrassment. You scoot closer to him, pulled by magnetic forces beyond your comprehension.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just life planning. I’m making vision boards.” The lie is so flimsy your lips trip as you try to say it.

“Uh-huh. Right. Because you normally start breathing heavy when you make vision boards.”

“This is unfair. Of course I’ll get turned on when you start talking like this.”

“Like what?” he says, leaning even closer. You can feel his breath on your face, and a shiver goes down your spine.

“Like you’re going to fucking breed me.”

His smile is absolutely feline. “That can be arranged.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Baby, I want whatever you want.”

You grab onto his shoulders, tight. “Then take me to bed, hot stuff.”

His eyes darken. A hand comes up to your face, and he kisses you gently. He grabs you by the hand…

and of course, he gives you what you want.

Your period is a week late.

It’s actually Minho who notices and points it out, which causes you to freak out and call Jia, who freaks out worse than you and demands that you go to the store immediately and buy a test. You get three different brands, and also an entire chocolate cake which will either be for congratulations or for emotional support.

Minho waits outside the bathroom door, an encouraging presence as you try to calm yourself down enough to read the labels.

“Whatever happens, I’m here,” he tells you. You can’t tell whether he wants it to be positive or negative. You aren’t even sure what you want. Yes, you want a baby, yes, babymaking sex is hot and you want to keep having it whether it gets you knocked up or not, but you’re both still young, and he has a career, and your apartment doesn’t have a third bedroom so there’d be nowhere for the nursery that you’ve already meticulously planned out in your mind-

The timer goes off. You open your eyes and look down.

“Negative,” you say, loud enough for Minho to hear outside the door. “All of them.”

Minho doesn’t say anything. You let out a deep breath, tension falling out of you, and open the door. Minho is on the other side, expression cautious.

“Is it bad that I’m a little disappointed?” he says, and his tone is joking but the words stick in your chest because you agree. The relief you expected to feel is nowhere to be found.

“I hope not, because that makes two of us.”

He draws you into a hug, and you sink into him, processing all the events of the last hour.

“And I was all ready to start building a crib.”

You snort. “Picking up carpentry as a hobby?”

“A real father should work with their hands. I need thick, callused hands to hold my baby with, so they feel smaller and daintier by comparison.”

“Wild thing to say, honestly.”

“It works on you.”

You break free and shove him playfully. “You’re ridiculous. You’d be a good father even with your soft city boy hands.”

“You think so?” he says, his tone heavier than before. You don’t even hesitate.

“Yes. Any child would be lucky to have you as a father.” You sigh dramatically. “Unfortunately it seems my uterus didn’t pull through this time.”

Minho is silent for a moment. “Well. We could…try again.”

You stare at him. “Sorry?”

“I mean, you said I’d be a good father. You said you wished the test was positive. I want that too. Just because it didn’t work this time doesn’t mean that-”

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Are you serious?” You’re gob smacked. You can’t believe that your usually cautious boyfriend is proposing you have a baby right now.

“I’m serious,” he confirms. “You’d be such a good mom. And I know how much you want this.”

“And you think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Obviously,” he says, without a hint of jest.

“But I’m- we’re so young, and I’m unemployed, and-”

“Sorry, were you planning on getting a job any time soon?”

Your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut up.”

“No, it’s perfect. You can be a loving stay-at-home mom. I’ll be the breadwinner.”

“Stop it. Stop talking this way. You’re- do you know how pissed my friends would be? What would I tell Jia? She almost bit my head off over the phone earlier, did you hear her? She was so pissed that I was thinking of motherhood instead of marriage-”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Don’t start.”

“Y/n, I’m not joking.”

You actually think you’re going to faint. Your heart is racing and you’re breaking out in a sweat. Is it hot in here? Did you forget to pay the AC bill this month?”

“Are you proposing to me right now?” You’re trying to joke but you’re breathless. “You’re proposing to me as a gimmick to get me to bear your children?”

Minho cringes. “Saying it like that makes me sound manipulative.”

“It’s kinda manipulative.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to be married before having kids. And I want to do both of those things with you eventually, so why not now?”

Your vision is blurring. For a moment you worry you actually are fainting, but then you realize that you’re crying instead.

“Stop playing with me, Minho, I’m so serious.”

“I’m not playing with you. I actually already bought a ring, but I didn’t know if the timing was right. Like you said, we’re young, and I didn’t know how you felt about getting married so soon. So I thought I’d ask eventually but-”

You lunge forward and kiss him. If you’d felt stressed earlier while taking the test, that’s nothing compared to the depth of emotion you’re feeling now as you hold each other. It’s like joy is filling you up so much that you don’t know where your body behind and ends.

When you finally separate, Minho asks,

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re not proposing to me in our living room,” you tell him. “You have to ask me again. Later. Don’t even show me the ring. Wait, what color is it? You know I only wear gold.”

“You think I’d forget something like that? I’m going to be your husband. I know what jewelry you wear.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you think you’d actually collapse to the ground from the way you absolutely swoon.

“Propose to me again and I’ll say yes. Right now, I need you to put a baby in me.”

“You want to walk down the aisle pregnant? Your dream wedding dress has a corset.”

“Oh my god, we’ll do it before I start showing, just fuck me, please!”

Minho doesn’t make you ask a third time.

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz imagines #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #another one under posts that are only funny to me lmfaoooo but this was SO fun to write #short n sweet album series

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sweets3rial · 7 months ago

Text

i wanted it to be you. (II)

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: when Leon thinks things are too late, he gets a friendly reminder that things are never too late.

tags: angst/comfort, happy endings, fluff, wedding ceremony, marriage, vows, talks about future, small mention of overbearing in-laws, reader having many second thoughts, drunk letters/vows, Chris and Claire Redfield mentioned, runaway bride, panic/anxiety attacks, Leon loves you, time skips, teasing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya' tap it)

warnings: panic and anxiety attacks

word count: 10.3K (yikes srry ya'll)

“my dream house?”

“yeah, tell me.” he urged, bumping your hip with his. you looked up into the sky, pondering his question. it was a good question. you’d never thought of something like that before. you were so used to your two-bedroom and one-half-bathroom apartment.

“well, i want lots of greenery. like plants in every corner and in every room.” you began, using your spoon as a little wand as you spoke. “i also want a lot of warm lights, to give the house a nice welcoming vibe to it,”

he hummed, nodding as you finished each sentence. “i like earthy tones or nude tones, nice soft couches, and a stone fireplace. a big living room and a large dining room- y’know how in those movies where the rich sad family gathers for dinner and it’s very awkward and quiet?”

his eyebrows furrowed, “you want something like that?”

you chuckled, “no, but i want my dining room to look like that just less … sad.”

“i see, it’s like those where the father is at the end and the mother at the other end,”

“exactly,” you smiled wider. you picked a cherry floating atop your frozen yogurt, taking it by the stem and bringing it to his lips. he opened his mouth with an audible sound, wrapping his cold lips around the fruit and plucking it off the stem.

you flicked the stem out of your fingers and onto the street where it’ll be swept away in the wind and trampled on by those who walked by.

“i want a large backyard, with either a poo or just a large field of grass.” you smiled at the thought of walking out onto your porch as an old feeble woman to enjoy a cup of coffee as you stared out into your backyard to watch the sun set or rise. or even watch your future kids play with the family dog.

you never wanted to have kids. just the thought of splitting yourself in half while pushing out new life sent chills up your spine. but sometimes, the idea of holding a child to your chest and watching it grow. the idea of listening to them laugh and play, watching as they discovered new interests and learned new things, and being alive to discover the person they will become, doesn’t sound too bad.

“i want a balcony, one that stretches from one side of the house to the other. that way i can sit outside and i don’t know enjoy a nice cigarette.”

a laugh erupted from his chest at the thought of you only wanting a balcony to smoke a cigarette. but then that image warped into him watching you from the door smoking that cigarette. the wind blowing in your hair, the sun kissing your skin, your clothes flapping against your skin.

he imagined you’d be wearing a baggy shirt, maybe one of his shirts. the wind blowing up from the balcony would cause your shirt to cling to you. to your curves and the dips of your body, the purchase of your hips, and the slim of your waist.

you’d turn to him with your elbows leaned up against the railing behind you, cigarette between the plump skin of your lips as you beckoned him over to join you.

“i had a friend,” you started, interrupting his small daydream.

“her parents had this master bedroom. when you walked in, to your left was a sliding door that led to the balcony overlooking her backyard, and then to the right was a couple’s bathroom,” you sighed at the memory, you envied her.

one, because her parents were happily married and slept in the same bed. two, because she had a big house with a large backyard. and three, because she was happy. she lived luxuriously in her big house, she was spoiled, and her parents doted on her. her life was perfect.

yours, not so much.

“her mom occupied one sink with her makeup and her jewelry, and her dad occupied the other with cologne and little figures,” you gulped down a lump in your throat, looking up at him to see him already looking at you. you could see the sad look on his face. the look of pity and sadness, it left a stab in your heart knowing that you probably ruined his night for him.

“i want that.” your words left your throat with a small croak. you weren’t just talking about a couples bathroom with a jacuzzi bathtub but also to be happy. to live in a large house, to be happy with your future husband and kids, to enjoy luxurious jewelry and clothes.

his heart hurt at the look in your eyes, the yearning and the hope. he could see the pain as you spoke about your friend, even if you were smiling as if it was a good memory. he wanted to say, i can give you that.

he wanted to give you that. not only for you but also for himself, that way when you beckon him over as you smoke your cigarette he can join your side. his daydream began to play again; as he joined your side, you’d put your cigarette out and wrap your arms around his torso with a sigh.

he could smell the shampoo in your damp hair and the lotion you lathered onto your skin — along with a hint of his cologne from the baggy t-shirt that belonged to him. the wind was nice and fresh, a cooling breeze along with the warm morning sun. he’d shut his eyes and hold you to his chest, slowly swaying you back and forth as he enjoyed the warmth from the sun along with the warmth from your body.

“that sounds nice,” he looked down at you, “peaceful,”

you smiled up at him, licking your sticky lips, “yeah, it does,”

your smile slowly faded as you began to doze off, he was very … pretty. the way his dirty blonde hair framed his face so perfectly. golden strands that are soft like silk and fluffy like cotton. his eyes, how they gazed into yours, pulling you in deep like the tide of the ocean and drowning you into his being.

they say the eyes are the window to the soul. when someone furrows a brow, you can tell their soul is confused or troubled. when a tear swells you know their soul is sad. when their pupil dilates you know their soul is in love.

there is a ring around his pupils, a ring of blue — the color of his irises. his plump lips are agape, sucking in breaths and letting them go. his lashes flutter with every blink, his eyes trailing every inch of your face, taking every detail of you into memory.

you did the same. scanning over his dimpled cheeks, his high cheekbones, his strong brow bones, his long lashes, the tips of his cold ears, and the window to his soul. all of it.

“you’re so beautiful,” his words came out almost in a drunken whisper. his brain wasn’t able to process any word that left his mouth until it did.

the blood that pumped into your veins instantly ran to your face. your cheeks heating up as your eyes widened, you looked back down at your melted froyo — hoping that taking a bite would hide away your hot cheeks. “thank you,” you mumbled trying to fight back the smile creeping up onto your sticky lips.

“of course uh- back to your dream house-“

“oh right! um-“

------

a living room with comfortable couches and a coffee table in the middle sitting, in front of a large stone fireplace. a kitchen with off-white cabinets, black tile floors, and an island with black marble counters and a deep sink. a dining room with a large table with seven chairs and a runner underneath.

plants, everywhere. in the front, in the large backyard, hanging from the roof, in every room, and in every corner.

large windows that faced the sunset and sunrise, casting down their warmth and triumph into the house to illuminate every corner without a single flip of a light switch. warm lights, in the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the hallways, everywhere.

a patio out front and out back, a balcony that stretched across the back of the house. five rooms, a guest room, three kids’ rooms, and a master bedroom. a master bedroom where when you walked in, to the left were the sliding doors to the balcony, and to the right a couples bathroom and a walk-in closet.

though, it wasn’t a home. there were drapes over the furniture to keep them from collecting dust. there were no plants just empty corners. the windows were shut and no one lived there.

the rooms were empty, with nothing but carpet and walls. it wasn’t a home. it had no life, no family, no giggles and happiness. it was simply just a house.

“sir, i just need you to sign here and then we’ll lease the house.”

he straightened his posture and blinked away the dryness in his eyes. he looked over at the man, he was about his height. he wore a fancy suit, his mustache was nice and jelled up, his hair slicked back and he smelt of expensive cologne.

he took one last look around the house, his heart aching. if he closed his eyes, he could hear you in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and listening to your music or your podcasts. he could hear your voice calling him from your bedroom. he could hear a dog maybe the giggles of children. but that was just a figment of his imagination.

he was standing in the middle of a house. your dream house. the one you told him about so many years ago. back then, he would’ve said ‘i can give you that’, but he hesitated. would that have made you stay? if he said he was putting all his money into building this house for you.

buying the furniture and the tiling and marble necessary to make it happen. hiring construction workers to add on a balcony and a back porch. would all his effort … would it have made you stay?

“who’s getting married?” the realtor asked, pointing at his boutonniere with his pen. he blinked, once again brought out of his daze.

“uh my … ex-girlfriend,” he grumbled awkwardly. the realtor jumped back a little, a small strand of his slicked-back hair falling out.

“oh,” was all he could say as he too joined him in looking around the house. the real estate agent could tell that this man wasn’t looking to live here by himself, there were so many rooms, rooms for a family. a couples bathroom and a shared walk-in closet.

the realtor sighed, looking up at the man. his eyes were bloodshot red, most likely from crying or being up all night. the bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. he was holding a flask of whiskey and his posture remained slouched.

“Mr. Kennedy,” the realtor clicked his pen and hooked it back onto his suit pocket. he stuffed the paperwork under his arm and puffed out his chest. he was losing business by doing this but he’d rather see a man happy to sell his house rather than sad to sell his house.

“i was young once,” he began, standing next to Leon as he dozed off. “i too had a girlfriend, she was the girl of my dreams,” the man chuckled at the memory.

“we were young and very, very stupid,”

Leon’s head slowly turned towards the man beside him, he found that the realtor was looking out the window with a smile on his face which caused his mustache to turn upwards.

“i was poor and she was wild, i wanted to give her a proper life. so i worked and i worked to the point that i’d tire myself and i barely had time for her.”

Leon let his eyes fall to the ground, this story was sounding a bit too familiar to him. not having time for each other led to miscommunication and arguments all the time. it was not a story that he wished to retell.

“so she left me, one day i came home and she was gone.” the man sniffled a bit, watching a bird fly out of one of the trees that sat on the front lawn. the bird reminded him of her, his songbird, always singing and so loud. though, he loved it when she sang and tweeted like a bird.

her voice was always like music to his ears anyway.

“i crashed her wedding like a fool and she told me that she would’ve been happy getting married without a big ring and a big house. that she would’ve been happy with how things were,” the man let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“so, my word to you is…don’t let it be too late. if you love her and hopefully she still loves you then … make it work.” the man placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. a sign of support for the young man since he too has been in Leon’s position once.

“it is never too late to be what you wanted to be,”

'i wanted it to be you.'

your voice replayed in his head. he could still hear the tears clogged in your throat and he could still see the look in your eye. he could still smell your perfume and feel your lips on his skin. it isn’t too late. he wasn’t too late.

Leon slowly began to nod his head, building up the courage to do something anything. he knew it was time to let you go, that it was over and done.

'do you still love me?'

'goodbye, Leon.'

those were the last words you said to him. he replays the sound in his voice every night and it keeps him awake at night. he tosses and turns, missing the warmth of your body and the feeling of your skin. he feels selfish, yearning for someone who wants nothing to do with him. someone who is getting married in a few hours.

but you aren’t just anyone. dare say, you are the love of his life.

“thank you, Mr. Gudzynski.” Leon smiled at the man, taking one last chug of the whiskey in his flask before making his way out the door. Chris stood there waiting for him, leaning up against his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared down at his phone.

upon hearing Leon’s foot crush the rocks beneath him, he looked up. he stomped out his cigarette as he blew out the last puff of smoke.

“how’d it go?” Chris asked, rolling his shoulders to let the sleeves of his suit adjust.

“did you just put out your cigarette on fresh cement?”

“i guess you sold it then,” Chris chuckled dryly.

Leon took a moment to reply, looking at the porch behind him. it was empty, just plain wooden slabs. he knew how much you wanted a patio, this was your house after all.

completely inspired by you. every corner and every detail of this house you had spoken to Leon years ago. he made your dream a reality, though you'll never know that.

“i couldn’t,”

Chris turned to Leon, his frame tensing up, “uh you what?”

“i couldn’t sell it, i just…” Leon ended his sentence with a shrug and much to his dismay, Chris nodded understandably.

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to,” Chris sighed, opening the door to his car.

“what?” Leon said with a lift of his brow.

“just get in,”

the whole drive to the church, Leon could feel his body growing heavier and heavier. he was nervous. unsure of what he should do or say? will he have the time? he was constantly wiping his hands onto his pants, trying to wipe the nerves and sweat away.

he was staring out the window blankly, bouncing his leg and biting on the inside of his cheeks.

’stop that,’

‘stop what?’

your fingers reached up to tap his cheek, ‘stop biting your cheeks, you’re making me anxious’

he stopped instantly, licking over the skin that he was just biting at. you sighed, standing in front of him as you fixed his tie. you worked with straightening the silk fabric and tightening it around his neck — not too much.

he looked down at you and his nerves instantly eased. your face was relaxed, your breathing slows, your lashes fluttered with every single blink, and god you were glowing. he couldn’t help but smile, he knew he had no reason to be nervous if you were right by his side.

and here you were; fixing his tie and smoothing out his suit.

‘you got this, it’s just a simple speech, we rehearsed it many times,’ you leaned up onto your tippy toes to place a kiss on his chin. ‘and i’ll be right in the audience supporting you,’

his lips curled into a small smile at the memory, he would’ve for sure embarrassed himself if it wasn’t for you being by his side. he remembers it clear as day, standing up on that podium as he received his award, his hands were shaking and his vision was blurry.

he was trying to read off of his speech but he couldn’t. that was until he found you in the room and then suddenly, you two were in the living room of your shared apartment. you were sitting on the couch with takeout in your lap. as he practiced his speech, you’d slurp your noodles or take a bite of your fried rice as you pretended to be a high government official.

once his eyes found yours in the large crowd, you smiled up at him mouthing the words; ‘you got this,’

“we’re here,” Chris sighed aloud. Leon looked up to see many familiar faces walking up the steps into the church, hand in hand and with smiles on their faces. all dressed in black suits and dresses, a simple and traditional color.

you were never a religious woman, you weren’t the type to go to church every Sunday or pray before every meal. but here you were getting married in a church, under the eye of god as if you hadn’t slept with another man just a few months ago.

your eyes were stuck on the cross hanging above you. the hairstylist you hired was busy touching up your hair, your makeup artist was powdering your nose and adding more highlight to your cheekbones consistently saying the same words, ‘make sure you smile that way you can really pop.’

you’d give her a small silent nod, whatever made her happy.

you haven’t smiled once. it was your wedding day. after months of trying on dresses, trying cake flavors, sending out invitations, and picking out bridesmaids. the day was here and you couldn’t smile. you’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, getting your hair and makeup done.

your bridesmaids would come in screaming excitedly while waving around bottles of champagne. you put on a fake smile with fake laughs and giggles but your mind was elsewhere.

you were thinking of a lot. your future after today, losing your last name, kids, and in-laws. but mostly you were thinking about him. it was hard, writing his name down on an envelope and sending it to him through the mail.

your fiancee, soon-husband, didn’t know about you and Leon. he believes you two are coworkers and nothing more. acquaintances or even strangers. he didn’t know the deep love you held for that man.

he was excited to see that you were inviting the other agents. he felt special. as if him being married to a D.S.O agent would make him a better tech or get him a promotion.

it was so hard sending him that invitation. most of the other invitations were given in person unless the guests lived far away. you wondered if he would come, part of you hoped he did and the other part of you hoped he didn’t.

“it’s almost time,” you looked to your side to see your uncle standing in the doorway. you chose him to walk you down the aisle, he’s been here for you more than your father. he was there for your daddy-daughter dances, for your graduation. elementary, middle school, and high school.

you stood up from your chair, smoothing out your dress. your dress was itchy and heavy, the pins in your hair stabbed your scalp with every movement, your makeup felt heavy and cakey, and your heels hurt. everything felt wrong.

“are you ready?” you looked at your uncle, a smile on his face as he looked at you. that was when tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head, suddenly you were a little girl again, crying to him when you didn’t get a toy you wanted.

your uncle’s face contorted with worry as he rushed to your side.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

you sobbed, throwing your head down so your tears wouldn’t ruin your makeup. you grabbed the back of your chair, trying to find your words and your breath but it was hard with the corset constricting your every movement.

“i can’t do it, i can’t go out there-“

“of course you can,” he reached over for a few napkins as his hand rubbed up and down your back, “i know it’s stressing, this is your big day, and your life is going to change after this.”

you shook your head again, pursing your lips together to keep another sob from leaving your lips.

“but this is the day you’ve been waiting for, you’ve stressed yourself out enough. after this, you get to enjoy your honeymoon and your house.”

you looked up at him, blinking away another tear. he smiled at you, taking the napkin to blot away the tears. you couldn’t help but think, only if he knew.

only if he knew where your heart truly lies. who your soul calls to. what you did, more specifically who you did. you couldn’t tell him. it was too late to tell anyone. what were you supposed to say? i slept with another man. quite frankly, the only man i’ve ever loved.

you’d be burned at the stake, by everyone in the church. especially, your mother-in-law.

so you sucked in a deep breath and stood up straight.

“okay,” you croaked, and you held the napkin to your tears. you hoped he wasn’t here, you really did. you knew if you made eye contact with him somewhere in the crowd, you would break.

so you linked arms with your uncle, standing up straight and putting a smile on your face. your uncle smiled back at you, giving your arm a small squeeze. your feet were already beginning to hurt and the minute the piano started your limbs began to shake.

your nerves were on edge, your palms were sweaty and you could barely control your breathing. you walked out of the small room you used to get ready and into the main hall. there were photographers, gasping at the sight of you.

gorgeous dress that made you look like a princess, the fabric along with your veil trailed behind you, leaving a path of your essence. instantly, camera shutters were beginning to go off. you gave the photographers a nervous smile and wave as you stood in front of the two large doors.

you looked up at the roof, naked baby angels danced above you, they were holding harps and chasing each other with smiles on their faces. clouds surrounded them along with doves. hints of gold were seen in the paint.

it was beautiful. architectural and just pure with grace. even if the paint was fading and cracking, it was the most beautiful thing you've seen today.

your uncle knocked at the doors, signaling whoever was inside that you were ready. when the doors opened you were met with gasps and the sound of people rising from their seats. you made eye contact with a few people both from your family and his.

you watched as a few covered their mouths in shock, their facial expressions softening in awe. you smiled at a few, keeping your head forward most of the time. your fiancee stood at the end with a wide smile on his face. his friends were giving him firm pats on the shoulder, demonstrating their support.

you smiled at him, pursing your lips as you let your eyes wander. to your left, in the second row, seated in the very first seat…there he was. he came. your face dropped upon seeing him, your knees suddenly felt weak, and a large pain erupted in your chest.

he stood with his hands folded in front of him. his lips were agape, his jaw hanging loose. his eyebrows were upturned in awe. your steps slowed a bit as you got closer to him. you wanted to see him one last time before it was too late.

in his mind, he was standing there at that altar instead of that bearded man. he was watching you walk down the aisle and you were smiling at him. you looked beautiful. god, that color always suited you. your makeup and hair were done beautifully, he’s never seen you this way — all dolled up.

it put his heart to a complete stop. he couldn’t focus on anything but you. your eyes were stuck on him as you passed by. he watched your smile fade as you both made eye contact and he felt a stab in his chest. for a second, he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t blink. he was just frozen in time.

as you walked past him, your head fell to look at the ground. Leon too looked away, continuing to bite on the inside of his cheeks, this time he could taste blood. he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t watch this happen. he couldn’t. he couldn’t.

but he wanted to, today was special to you but it was the complete opposite to him.

he watched as you stood before your husband, a smile rising to your mouth as you gave him a small ‘hi’. Leon let his head drop to his lap, his leg was bouncing uncontrollably. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t be here.

he was about to look up at Chris to tell him he had to go but he was interrupted when Chris put his hand on Leon's knee. when he looked at Chris, he was looking ahead. a toothpick between his lips and his eyes stuck ahead on you and your future husband.

he knew Chris was trying to convey something, probably 'calm the fuck down,' but also some type of support.

Chris knew today was hard for Leon. with each passing day that the wedding got closer, Leon has been sulking and slacking off during training. his flask was his best friend and so was his bed.

Chris was the only one who knew how deep Leon’s love ran for you. Chris was there during the nights Leon would stumble around drunk and depressed. he gave Leon a hand when he was at his lowest. he helped Leon get rid of his addiction. he got Leon a therapist.

he did a lot for Leon when you two split, same for you. Chris was like the older brother you never had, he was supportive and kind. he was always understanding. you were able to confide in him comfortably. you could sob on his shoulder and use him as a punching bag instead of Leon.

Chris saw both of you at your lowest points and he brought both of you back.

he did so much to bring you two back together but here he is; watching one get married while the other watches with tears in his eyes. Leon kept his head down, unable to face you and watch the scenery before him. the priest prompted you two to begin your vows and he was first.

there was a nervous smile on his face as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. he unfolded the paper, his eyes flickering between you and the speech before him. he cleared his throat, facing the crowd.

“first and foremost, i want to thank everyone for being here; friends and family.” he cleared his throat once again, looking towards you. it made Leon’s stomach twist with jealousy as you smiled at him so lovingly. he also couldn’t stop admiring how beautiful you were. pure innocence and grace, well he knew you were far from innocent.

“and most of all my gorgeous wife-to-be,” your smile dropped into a simple lift of your lips. but slowly, you began to look around the crowd. your eyes landing on your family, your in-laws, and then Leon. from there, you stayed fixated on him.

you haven’t seen him so polished in so long. his suit was nicely tailored, sleek back with a white brooch. though his tie was crooked and he was chewing on the inside of his cheeks. his frantic leg bouncing stopped once he made eye contact with you. his body froze in a way, his breath caught in his throat.

he smiled at you, gently. the look in his eyes spoke for him, ‘you look beautiful,’ he said.

he tried to keep calm, for you. even though he was on the verge of a heart attack. even if he was terribly heart broken, he needed to be happy for you. today is your day.

you smiled back at him even wider, shying away from him with visible heat in your cheeks, ‘thank you,’ you said back, smoothing out the skirt of your dress. your fiancee’s speech fell on deaf ears, you were paying attention to everything else but him at the moment.

Leon sat right in your field of view. at the other side of the aisle, in the second row, towards the very end of the bench.

you sucked in a deep breath, your lips falling agape as you kept eye contact with him longer. suddenly, the feelings you wished to bury. the ones you’ve been trying to bury for years were coming back. it was like slowly drowning. you can see the surface still but as you sink deeper and deeper, it becomes blurry and you are forever trapped in the ocean beneath you.

his kisses, his touch, his love, his passion, his laugh, his smile, his hair, his teeth, his nose, the hair on his arms and legs, the scar on his shoulder, the mole on his neck — it was all coming back. he was coming back.

the happiness you felt when he would wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. the joy you felt walking into the kitchen to see him there making coffee, he hated coffee. he hated the feeling it left on your tongue. the bitter taste and the smell of your breath after taking a sip. he hated coffee but he still made it.

it made him feel like a normal person living in an apartment with his normal girlfriend.

the comfort you’d get when he’d hug you. the excitement you felt when he’d come home. the small things he did that aroused you to the point of insanity. the arguments…you even missed the petty arguments. arguments never lasted long. Leon hated arguing with you.

it would usually end up with him sleeping on the couch that night. then he’d wake up with a heavy weight on top of him. of course, it was you. or it would end up with him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you both in your shared bedroom together.

even if you two argued, you refused to be away from each other.

you were woken from your daydream by the wave of chuckles around the room. you joined in subconsciously, blinking your dry eyes and averting your attention away from Leon. meanwhile, he was gripping the pants of his suit with butterflies in his stomach. he couldn’t shake off this feeling.

the feeling of loss. the feeling that maybe it was too late.

your fiancee had finished his vows, folding up the paper and storing it back in his pocket. you looked up at you, a blush on his cheeks and sweat brimming at his forehead. you could see he was nervous, he was shaking — constantly rocking back and forth and itching at his beard.

you reached into your bra, pulling out your vows. you were so unprepared. you wrote your vows probably a few nights ago, drunk one too many drinks and elbow-deep in a bag of your favorite chips.

the minute you unfolded the paper, you knew you should’ve read it over.

‘To my beloved, Leon…’

you swallowed a lump in your throat, nervously looking between the paper, your fiancee, and Leon sitting in the crowd. you were drunk and wrote vows to the wrong man. no, it was to the right man. Leon was the right man. he always has been.

“um, to my beloved, future husband,” you began, your voice trembling and your throat aching. you read over the first line and you instantly felt tears swell up in your eyes, “i miss you, um,” your eyes flashed over to Leon.

“i miss you even if you’re right next to me. no words can summarize how much i love you, how much i burn and yearn for you every passing minute … every passing day.”

Leon felt his heart break into a million pieces right then and there. your eyes remained on him, only looking away to glance back down at your vows. were you … reading these to him? Leon swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyebrows upturning as he tried to hold himself together.

you were making up things as you went, your words completely different from what was really written down:

“i am glad to have you by my side,” i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

“i am blessed to wake up to you every morning and suck in a deep breath of your essence and your being,” i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

“i was broken when you found me but you pieced me back together, slowly and patiently,” you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

a tear slipped down your cheek, you were beginning to choke up the more and more you read. it was getting hard to make things up and say those instead of reading what you wrote down. a full page confessing your every feeling and thought to the right man … to Leon.

tears continued to fall.

‘i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i saw you, the emotions running through me i couldn’t comprehend. i wanted to run, i wanted to turn away because i knew if i approached you it would be bad. but my body made its way towards you anyway.

i love you. i always have and i always will. i wish i could hold you again. i wish i could go back. they say to never open the closed doors of your past. fuck not opening closed doors, your door never closed.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.’

‘do you still love me?’

his words rang in your head like an alarm. you were looking down at your paper, vision blurry with tears. you could feel the weight of your tears falling onto the sheet as you sat there in silence. a small sob left your lips as audible whispers rang throughout the room.

you folded the paper in half, shaking your head as you looked up at your fiancee.

“i’m sorry,” was all you said as you took a step back. your body moved before you could process anything. you ran down the steps, lifting the skirt of your dress with one hand while the other held your love letter with a vice grip.

you ran down the aisle, towards the large doors. your throat was on fire and as you burst through the wooden doors, you finally let out a singular sob.

everyone in the church stood and watched you run out, looking between you and your fiancee abandoned at the altar. the whispers became louder, and gasped erupted through the room. your fiancee stood at the altar looking at his feet, completely still.

his mother ran up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she threw a million questions towards him. he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the ground below him. he couldn't believe it and neither could anyone else.

Leon looked back from you running out the door towards Chris standing behind him. his face was painted with worry, his eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched together. Chris nodding his head towards the door, signaling Leon to go after you.

“go, she needs you,” Claire said from behind Chris. Leon nodded silently, a heavy breath leaving his lips as he ran after you.

he was second to burst through those doors after you. he looked right and left, panicking. what happened? what was wrong? he knew he shouldn’t have come. this was his fault. if he didn’t come, you would be running out of this church with your husband on your arm. not like this.

those vows. they weren’t for your husband. he knew that for sure. your eyes were stuck on his, he watched with agony as tears slipped past your pretty eyes and down your cheeks. god, he hated seeing you cry more than anything. he just wished he could scoop you up in his arms and coax them out of you gently.

a sign against the wall that read ‘garden’ caught his attention. the sign pointed to the left and Leon was quick to take after you.

he knew you well. he knew you loved gardens and flowers, always plucking them from the ground or from their bush and sticking them into Leon’s hair. you once mentioned to him how when you’re troubled you tend to turn to nature or your bed. you’d take walks, sit outside in the sun in silence. you’d brush your fingers against the soft petals and leaves.

your bed was nowhere in sight so he ran in the direction of the garden.

he made way down the steps into the garden, loosening the tie around his neck. he shut his mouth, listening to your voice over his beating heart and his heaving breaths. he could faintly hear sobs coming from his right. his head snapped in the direction of your cries, his heart breaking as he spotted your heels on the ground.

they most likely slipped off as you ran away. he sucked in one last deep breath, trudging through the grass of the church garden to pick up your heels. the garden was beautiful, tall bushes acting as walls to a makehsift maze.

white roses were planted everywhere. the grass was healthy and warm, tickling at his ankles. bees buzzed around the bushes, hopping from flower to flower. birds chirped in the trees, singing melancholic tunes on this beautiful afternoon. or pretty drastic afternoon.

as he walked further into the maze, he caught eye of you. your back was turned to him, you had sat down on a bench in the middle of the maze and in front of a marble statue. he stopped in his tracks, gulping down the lump in his throat which somehow made his presence clear to you.

you turned around surprised, eyes wide and a small gasp leaving your lips.

when you caught eye of him standing there, holding your heels with one hand and the other tucked in his pocket. you felt tears welling up again, though you hid it away with a dry laugh.

“how cliche huh? runaway bride.”

he didn’t answer, making his way closer and closer to you. he rounded around the bench, getting down on one knee in front of you. he took your right ankle into his hands, rubbing at your soft skin.

Leon tried to ignore the damp paper in your hands — your vows. he was curious, what did they really say?

he slipped on your heel, continuing to draw circles onto your skin.

you watched him, inhaling deep, trembling breaths and gripping the edge of the bench with all your might. the tension was thick, so thick to the point neither of you could breathe.

“say something,” you sighed out.

“i don’t know what to say,” he croaked out, his voice stuffy and hoarse. he took a hold of your other ankle, slipping on the last heel.

“say that i don’t know, i’m stupid. i’m an idiot. i embarassed myself, i-“ you cut yourself off with a heavy sigh, dropping your head into your lap. there was a moment of silence, leaving you two stuck in an oasis of tweeting birds, rustling trees, and buzzing bees.

“look at me-“

“no,”

“please, baby look at me,” he practically begged. butterflies arose in your stomach and you shut your eyes, hoping you could shut him out. hoping the noise in your head would stop, just hoping everything will quiet. “i need you to look at me.”

that was all it took. you slowly looked up from your lap and at him. once you met his gaze, you felt like you were that young girl again. that young girl walking down the street after a dinner date, eating froyo in freezing weather and talking about your dream house.

“you’re not an idiot, you’re not stupid, you’re perfect. you’re so perfect,” he sighed out. “why’d you run?”

you shook your head, “i couldn’t do it, Leon, i-“ you stopped yourself to suck in a deep breath, but it felt so constricted. your head was pounding, everything felt heavy and you were so dizzy. every thing was falling down. you felt like you couldn’t breathe or think, your head was spinning and your knuckles white.

you gripped at your chest, nervously playing with the pendant of your necklace but at the same time trying to tug it off. you felt like you were choking, your vision began to cloud with tears but at the same time you felt like you were losing consciousness.

“hey, hey,” he came to sit next to you, instantly wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest but still giving you room to breathe.

his fingers began to loosen the ribbons to your corset. his movements were stable and calm. “breathe with me ‘kay?" he soothed, "in and out, just how we always did,”

you nodded, gripping onto his suit, “in”

you shut your eyes and took a deep breath in. “good, what’s one thing you can taste?”

“um my lipstick,” you said, as you both exhaled.

“in,” he rubbed your back with one hand while the other held you firmly against him, “what are two things you can smell?”

his voice was getting deeper and quieter. slowly, your body began to relax. you could breathe again. you focused on your surroundings, naming off the first things you could. “the grass and…” you paused to let a deep breath out, “you.”

he wasn’t going to lie, your reply made his heart jump a little bit. he tightened his hold onto you, burying his nose into your hair. “in.”

as he took a deep breath in, he was bombarded with the smell of your shampoo and hairspray, “what are three things you can hear?”

“birds, wind and your heart beat,” you whispered to him as you let out another deep breath.

“in,” another deep breath in, “almost there, what are four things you can touch?” he could feel your body loosen up as you began to feel around him. your eyes were shut and your body began to go slack against him.

“your suit, the bench, and a button,” another deep breath out.

“good, almost there, in.” you were prepared for this one, pulling back from the hug just a bit so you could look around your surroundings. “what are five things you can see?”

you looked up at him, your breath hitching in your throat and your knees going weak. even if you were sitting down, you felt like jelly — as if you would melt right through this bench. you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out but a weak croak.

he whispered out your name, concerned. his eyebrows curling upwards and his eyes searching yours. the longer you stayed like this, looking into his eyes and breathing with him, the quieter it got. there was no more pounding and noise in your head. your dress didn’t feel itchy. the pins in your hair no longer stabbed at your scalp. the soles of your feet didn’t hurt.

it was all so peaceful. everything.

“i do,” you managed to croak out.

“what?”

“to answer your question,”

‘do you still love me?’

“i do, Leon, i do. more than you’ll ever know,”

you couldn’t read the look on his face, all you saw was a flurry of emotions. he searched your face for any hesitation or lie, anything to keep him from taking you away from here for good. something to stop him from being selfish and keeping you all to himself.

“i love you, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

To my beloved, Leon,

i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.

you’re my everything and you’ll continue to be for the rest of my life. i cannot breathe without you, i cannot think, i cannot function. my head is foggy. but when i see you it all becomes so clear. when i go to sleep at night and the thought of you crosses my mind i can’t help but smile.

i wish i still had that picture of you by my bed because it’s never enough to see you smiling in my head as i lay in the dark. the sheets are cold, this house is cold, my heart is cold. i need you Leon.

it’s too late to go back now. i can’t keep doing this to you. i’m sorry. i love you.

a heavy hand was draped over your waist, strong firm muscle pooling you into a brick wall of a chest. you smiled, placing your hand over the one on your stomach. light kisses were pressed to your neck and down to your shoulder. rough stubble tickling your smooth skin only prompting you to smile wider.

“good morning,” a hoarse voice spoke in your ear. you looked up at the clock on your nightstand, it read 12:16. you grumbled, turning over and burying your face into chest and muscle, draping your arms around his frame and intertwining your legs with his.

“it’s so early,” you whined, hiding away from the sun peeking through your balcony doors.

“baby, it’s noon.” more kisses were pressed to your face, slowly waking you up with each one. gentle and wet kisses, you smiled at the feeling, nuzzling your nose between his pectorals with a low groan.

“it’s time to get up,”

the sound of you faking a snore earned you a small chuckle, the chest you lay on bouncing up and down — shaking you awake a bit more. the hand on your back traveled further south, rubbing over the bare skin of your ass.

“i tire you out last night, huh?” he taunted, kissing over the love bites forming on your neck and shoulders. you nodded shamelessly, every single one of your limbs was sore and you could barely move an inch without wincing in pain.

“that’s unfair, you folded me like origami and you expect me not to be tired, let me sleep,”

“i'm sorry baby, but i’m not done,”

a smirk grew on your lips and all of a sudden the pain in your body was gone. you were flipped over onto your back, making you squeal out in surprise. you were met with a pair of blue eyes and a messy head of brown hair.

warm lips met yours in a heated frenzy of a kiss — full of flame and passion. you tangled your fingers into the head of messy brown hair, moaning deeply into the kiss. you lifted your legs and brought them up and around his waist.

you could feel his hard cock press against your inner thigh, a small groan left his lips at the contact and a needy moan left yours. his hand reached between your nude bodies, two fingers slotting in between your folds and a slow and languid pace.

the tips of his fingers found your clit, rubbing small and slow circles around the sore nub. your walls fluttered around nothing, craving his cock that throbbed against your thigh.

you failed to kiss him back as a small whine left your lips.

“so wet already,” he kissed your chin, “were you dreaming about me, baby?”

you couldn’t help but give him a large smile, “maybe,”

you watched a smile grow on his lips as he placed another deep kiss to yours. his fingers left your aching cunt, leaving you pleading for more. his hand glided up your thigh, making sure your legs were securely wrapped around him.

he pulled away from the kiss, kissing your nose and then the corner of your mouth.

“i love you,” he breathed out.

“i love you too…ah,” your voice faded away into a moan as he slowly thrust into you. a weak moan left your lips and your nails dug into the skin of his back. you were never used to the sheer size of him, even if he was given to you just a few hours ago here you are, gasping for air as you clench around him.

“so beautiful, taking me so good,” he praised with a small groan. his tip nudged against your cervix, practically knocking the air left in your lungs straight out. he kept a hand on your leg, keeping you as close to him as possible.

with each deep thrust, he watched your every facial expression, watching as your mouth dropped open into a moan and as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched your lips try and form words, the only words you could moan out was his name:

“Leon,” you whined, dragging your nails down his back. he winced at the pain but he reveled in it, the way you’d claw at his back as he’d pound into you was better than any pain ever conflicted upon him. or when your teeth would sink into his shoulder, muffling your whines and moans.

the image only saturated his need.

you could feel his cock twitch inside of you and his hips began to roll against yours. still plagued by sleep, you buried your head into his shoulder, whimpering with each thrust. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, locking your ankles around his waist to bring him closer.

you loved feeling his weight on top of you, keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, that way you had nowhere to run. not like you’d ever want to, the pleasure he gives you when he’s on top of you like this is inexplicable.

his arms underneath you, pulling you to his chest as he brought you up with him. both of your jaws dropped open, this new position allowing the tip of his cock to press further into you. you cupped his cheek, breathing in his heavy gasps as you slowly began to roll your hips down into him.

your breasts were pushed up against his, sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex filled the room. soft and gentle moans slipped past your lips, your hands grabbing at anything in reach; his shoulders, his face, his arms, just him.

“you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to look down at him. your lips met him in a frenzy, your cunt squelching the base of his cock as you rocked your hips against his faster — desperately chasing that high.

your stomach was burning with need, and every part of your body from your toes to your neck was on fire. you’ve never burned for someone like you do for him. his hips jolted up to meet yours and you gasped into his mouth which allowed him to slide his tongue against yours.

he was meeting you halfway with his thrusts, a gasp of pleasure leaving your mouth with every single one.

“fuck, it’s too much,” you whined as his lips traveled down your neck, biting down on your shoulder and your collarbones — he wanted to leave a mark.

“you can take it,” he heaved, “can’t you, baby?” he urged, as his teeth scraped against the plump of your breast. a shiver rolled up your spine at both the pain and pleasure, either way you nodded ecstatically.

“yes! i can take it,”

he smirked wider, his hips thrusting up faster. he watched as your tits bounced against his chest, your head rolling back which let your frizzy hair fall over your shoulders. his eyes were glued to the love bites decorating your body. the bruises and the redness growing on his skin.

the image of your body was now forever painted in his mind. your thighs wrapped around him as your hips ground down into his thrusts. your puffy cunt taking him so well, his cock sheathing inside of you and out again. your juices soaking the tuft of hair surrounding the base of his cock. your breasts bouncing and your ribs poking out.

“oh Leon, i’m so close-“ you whined, wrapping your arms around him. one of your hands running up the back of his neck and into his brown hair, the other wrapped around his shoulders with nails digging into his skin.

“let go for me, baby.” he egged you on, teetering close to his high as well. he screwed his eyes shut, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass, helping you meet his thrusts.

you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, muffling your loud moans into his skin. the sound of wet slapping skin only got louder, along with the sound of needy moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

the fog in your mind only got heavier and stars danced in your vision. your legs clamped around his waist as you came undone around his cock. stars danced behind your vision as you called out his name in a chant.

he wasn’t too far behind, biting down on your shoulder as he shot his seed deep inside of you. hot and thick, coating your gummy walls and painting you as his.

he continued pulling your hips down into his, slowly and carefully to help you ride out both of your highs. you slumped against him, completely worn out. all the soreness came back in a flash and your eyes felt heavy. but you smiled, draping your arms around his shoulders and allowing his softening cock to stay inside of you.

you turned your right, met with the bright light of the sun and the most beautiful view ever. the sun high in the sky shining down on a field of green grass. birds flew around in the distance, gliding in the wind and twirling in the air. you watched as they flew up and up until they were out of sight.

you pulled back from leaning on his shoulder, cupping his cheek and guiding him to look at you. his eyes peeled open slowly, his pupils contracting against the bright light he was exposed to before dilating again as he caught sight of you hovering above him.

he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling up at you.

“hi,”

you chuckled, “hi,”

he placed a deep kiss on your lips, sealing in the steamy morning you both shared. as he pulled away, he let his eyes stay shut for a moment, he wanted to mesmerize the feeling of your lips alone. he wanted to remember the feeling of your sticky body pressed to his. he wanted to remember the sound of your voice. he wanted to remember this moment. that way if he died tomorrow, he would be able to lay back and remember you.

“my body hurts,” you groaned, leaning back and taking him with you. as you both hit the mattress with a loud ‘puff’, he couldn’t help but smile.

“let me guess, you’re going to spend the whole time in bed,” he chuckled.

“what? i can’t enjoy my honeymoon? and my new house,” you smiled widely up at him. he cupped your cheek, smiling happily as he brushed your cheek. your smile faded as you nuzzled yourself into his palm, with a small sigh.

“you know, the moment i got home after that date with the froyo,” he began, licking over his dry lips. “i went home and began mapping out how your dream house would look,”

"really?" you smiled as you turned towards him, bunching the duvet up to your chin. he nodded and you gave him a small playful scoff, "and here i thought it was just a question,"

"well, it wasn't,"

your heart ached at the image of a young and blonde Leon sitting at his crowded desk, sketching out a house with the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his lip. you smiled at his confession, letting him plop down beside you as his arm wrapped around your waist to bring you against him.

“i was determined to make it happen,” he chuckled to himself, “i bought the property, hired construction workers, and interior designers. now that i think about it, i was so mean to them.”

you laughed at that, his story playing out in your head like a movie. you wondered how long it took and how much it all cost. though, he refused to tell you. he refused to tell you anything about the making of this house. you didn’t know about it until just a few weeks ago.

when he carried you out of the car bridal style with a blindfold around your eyes. he placed you onto the ground for a moment and you could hear the jingling of keys and the squeak of a door. when you stepped into the house it smelt stale, like wood and dust.

but when he took that blindfold off you were faced with something much better. you were face to face with your future — your dream. he mapped it out perfectly, just to your desires and nothing could ever be better. it was better than your dreams. so much better.

“the day of your uh other wedding,” he paused stifling a small nervous laugh as you giggled, “i was about to sell it. i was about to throw your dream away,” you frowned, both feeling guilty and saddened at the thought. he reached down under the covers, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“our dream…i was going to throw our dream away,” he laid his head down against the pillow, looking down at your hands as he ran his thumb over your delicate knuckles. “it wasn’t your fault, i just couldn’t stomach the thought of living or owning a house that was meant for you,”

“oh Leon,” you sighed.

“you didn’t know about the house, i never got to tell you and well it was too late to.”

you brought your joined hands to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles as you scooched closer to him. you didn’t go back to him because of the house, even if you did know about the house, you knew that you would have gone back to him for the sole purpose of being with him.

you could still be in that dainty old apartment and you’d be happy. you could be living in a studio apartment with him and you’d be happy. you could be living in a cardboard box with him and you’d be happy. as long as you were with him. home was where he was. Leon was home.

“the realtor convinced me not to, he told me a story similar to ours,” his other hand reached up, cupping your cheek and stroking the puffiness underneath your eyes.

“his story didn’t have a happy ending like ours but he told me, ‘it is never too late to be what you wanted to be.’” Leon sighed heavily, looking deep into your eyes. you looked at him attentively, eyes wide and eyelashes fluttering up at him. he smiled at you, finding the look on your face adorable, like a kid listening to a bedtime story.

“and well i wanted to be with you,”

your heart swelled with love and your features softened. you gave him a look of pure adoration, and every waking moment and every waking day you found yourself falling more and more deeply in love with him. from the moment you woke, to the moment you slept and into the dreams you inhabit, you loved him dearly.

your heart called for him in your strongest and weakest moments. your soul was tied to him and your every thought revolved around him.

Leon. Leon. Leon. he was all you knew and all you wanted. he was your dream, your prince charming, your fairytale. he was your everything. he held you in the palm of his hands and he didn’t even know it. from the moment you met and to this very moment now, laying in bed with limbs entangled — stealing kisses and whispering sweet nothing, you were his.

you wanted it to be him.

you wanted him to be your partner in crime. you wanted him to be your husband, your partner in life and death, the father to your children, the man you introduced to your parents, the man to give you his last name, the person you woke up to in the morning and fell asleep next to in the night, the sole owner of your heart and soul.

and now he is that. he is your partner in life and death, your husband, to father of your future children, the man you woke up to and fell asleep next to. he is that man.

“i’m glad it was you.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @child-chomper1 @porcelain-sea-shore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl @altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine @its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud @beafart (loved ur lil note btw! it made me laugh) @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie @bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

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author notes: MY GOD! pt. 2 is done and this shit is LONG! literally i did not need to write this much but i hope you guys enjoyed this one and tysm for filling out the taglist i was so surprised to see so many people wanted to be tagged in my work i thank each and every one of you ToT!!

also, summer is officially here for me so expect me to be active much more :D! - V!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #death island leon #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 6 #chris redfield #claire redfield

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