#the first one… even when the world is grey there’s still pretty things to look at like flowers..
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hyunpic · 7 months ago
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240512 hyunpic
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rqnarok · 2 months ago
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summary: make up sex with old man!logan.
cws/tags: smut, mdni! oldman!logan. insecure!logan. petnames. logan calls reader ‘kid’. jealous!logan. daddy kink. oral (f receiving). not proofread. 
Logan can’t be ‘mad’ at you for more than a day. He just fucking can’t, alright?
He tried to keep his hands to his own as a protest of yesterday's quarrel. Logan still doesn’t know if it’s meant to be a punishment for you or himself. 
The older man does know that when he’s jealous, he’s doing it in a self-destructive way.
How he isolates himself and avoids you instead - because he knows that he doesn’t deserve you. A fucking hundred-year-old something who’s angry all the time, who’s aloof to the world, and who’s pining over someone as pretty and young as you. 
It fucking wound him too when he pretends nothing ever hurt him, that the way you laugh too loud at the guy’s jokes at the pub did not have any effect on him. That he had to pretend as if he’s not an insecure old man who just wants you all to himself by making things worse. 
“C’mon.” It’s all that Logan could force out as he skims through whatever he’s pretending to read, ignoring the way his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth in ferocity, “What’re you on, huh? Y’ve got no reason to throw a tantrum like this, kid.” 
He sees the moments when your gaze changes, hurt bleeding into the orb, “You’re mean, Logan.” It wounds him - but this kind of confrontation is all he’s ever known. 
Hell, he doesn’t even know why you decided to stay with him. He thought you’d leave in the middle of the night of the first month after figuring out how much of a failure of a man he is. 
So when he goes back from his tiring work and still sees your figure cooking dinner for him in the kitchen, he fucking loses it. His breath gets stuck in his lungs as he watches you stroll around with one of his henley shirts, humming softly the tunes of your favourite song. 
Maybe he’d use a different type of confrontation now—maybe he’d talk about his feelings more often. He’d do everything not to lose this sole sight: His pretty girl being so domestic that he can’t help but get so shamelessly hard.
The way he tried to gain composure and not to lose his coolness but fails miserably at the sight of his your shirt riding up to give him a good view of your perky ass as you reach something from the top cabinet. 
Logan takes you by surprise when he wraps his arms around you, nipping and kissing the soft skin below your ear—his way to say sorry - it’s all my fault.
“Will ya’ forgive your old man, sweet girl?”
He hates how he sounded so unconfident - so different from his younger self.
But when you lean your back onto his chest and shyly nod, his worries are buried. Logan hauls you up with a smile, the bone-cracking sound reminds him of his old age. He rumbles in laughter when you squeal in surprise before spreading your thighs apart on the kitchen counter, pulling your legs around his head so he can eat his dinner. 
His big nose drapes around your clothed pussy before groaning at the smell of you. Cursing himself from avoiding you yesterday when he could have had this. “Y’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby. ‘S mine, huh? My pussy.” He says as he takes off your panties.
The statement itself and the scratchy feel of his ragged beard made you arch your back from the rough surface, “A-ah, ‘s yours, Daddy.”
“Tha’s right.” Logan licks a stripe of your dampening pussy, deeply humming in delight when you let out a high-pitched whine and subconsciously locking your legs tighter to pull him closer. You trail your hands down and tug at his greying hair while he laps you up and fucks you with his tongue. Making you come undone in just a span of a short time.
Logan wipes his mouth and beard as he stands before you in quick breaths, looking at you all apologetically: I’msorry I’msorry I’msorry-
You’re teary-eyed, blinking up at him - whining for him to fuck you hard now - to make up his stupid faults. 
Stupid old man who thinks he’s not worthy of you.
 Logan groans as he tosses away his belt, holding the base of his cock as he teasingly drags the head on your wet folds, “Ssh. Let Daddy make it up t’ya, alright? Daddy’s gon’ give it to you now, baby.” 
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thinkinonsense · 3 months ago
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forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”
poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(
old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni
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logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.
"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.
"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.
the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.
every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.
"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.
"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.
"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."
"has anyone ever told you that you're-"
"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."
logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.
"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"
"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."
logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.
"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.
it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.
"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.
logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.
then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.
the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.
"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.
"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.
"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."
it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.
"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"
"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.
logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.
"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.
logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.
"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.
he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.
"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"
the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.
"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"
you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.
"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.
"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.
"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."
"it gets dirtier than that."
"hmm... don't know if that's possible."
"i could show you if you like."
the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.
"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.
"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.
"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.
once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.
"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."
you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.
"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."
logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.
"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."
"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."
without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.
"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."
"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.
once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.
"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.
"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.
logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.
"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"
you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.
"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.
"inside, please."
that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.
"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.
"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.
"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."
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leahwllmsn · 3 months ago
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somebody to you
alexia putellas x reader
word count: 9.6k
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You’re not a footballer and knowing that your girlfriend is one of the best footballers in the world… you definitely think Alexia deserves better than you. Maybe someone like her ex—World Cup winner, Jenni Hermoso.
; angst, fluff
When you first met your girlfriend, Alexia, you had no idea who she was.
Football was the last thing you could ever be interested in. How were you supposed to know that the blonde in front of you was one of the best footballers in the world?
Whenever you recall back to that moment, you could still remember every single detail—her hair up in a messy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her faded grey sweatshirt paired with light blue jorts. (Who the hell wore jorts?) Not to mention the permanent scowl etched on her face. She made smiling seem like a chore.
When it was her turn to order and all she did was point to the menu to show you what she wanted, you frowned because, a) that was so rude—how hard was it to say that she wanted a hot chocolate? but b) she looked so damn hot and you were a sucker for pretty, bratty girls. 
She was perfect.
When you decided to shoot your shot and wrote your number on her cup (and a note that went: you should smile more often, I haven’t seen it, but I’d bet that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world x), you didn’t think she’d do anything about it. 
Imagine your surprise when you received a text from an unknown number later that night.
hola
I just wanted to tell you to do better with your pick-up line
That was a few months ago and now you could confidently say that Alexia’s smile was indeed the most beautiful smile in the world. 
It was tough to break down her walls at first, Alexia always exuded a nonchalant vibe, only smiled when she had to, and didn't look like she enjoyed whatever it was you two were doing. 
You were never a quitter though. So you kept on texting her, asking if she wanted to go for another date. 
She kept on saying yes and that was when you knew that underneath her indifferent mood, she enjoyed your little dates.
Her tough exterior was merely a front and your suspicions were confirmed when one night, she started laughing so hard mid-sentence, causing you to stop whatever it was you were doing because wow, you could listen to her laughter on repeat for the rest of your life.
“Y/N,” she grabbed your face in her hands, gently rubbing your cheeks, her laughter fading into a gentle, warm smile on her face. “You’ve been so patient with my grumpiness. That is a talent.”
“Ale, I really like you,” you chuckled. “That includes your grumpiness.”
“I’m not always like this,” she confessed. You only looked at her in confusion before she told you everything. Who she was, what Alexia Putellas meant to the world, and most importantly, her ACL—the injury that caused her to lose sight of the world for a bit.
“I was just so angry with the world, even now that I’ve healed, I still hated that it happened to me because I missed out for months, I missed out on so many moments. So the bitterness likes to reappear every now and then… That, and I don’t really trust people so easily; people usually want something from me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”
“Ale… I had no idea who you were,” you gave her a sheepish smile. “Which might be stupid of me, now that I think about it. I mean, I should know you, shouldn’t I? You’ve won that balloon football award or whatever and it’s ridiculous that I have no idea who—”
You were cut off by a pair of lips crashing into your own. Alexia silencing all your worries with the softest kiss, her strawberry chapstick was all you could taste. She pulled away to rest her forehead against yours, eyes staring at you intently, your favourite smile on display. “I don’t care that you don’t know who I am, Y/N. In fact, I love it. You treat me so normally. Eres mi favorita.”
You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Am I? You wanna be my girlfriend then, Putellas?”
When all she did was flash you her signature smirk, her eyebrows raised, and an “ask me in a more romantic way, por favor” thrown your way—that was when you realized that you’d broken down her walls completely, and oh you were insufferable. Because the way she looked at you? The way her eyes lit up, her lips slowly curling into a stupidly perfect grin? People would go to war to have someone look at them like that.
You were so head over heels in love with Alexia.
Being Alexia’s girlfriend—or wag, as you learned of the term on the internet—was more than you could ever dream of.
You still worked part time at the café where you two met while juggling your studies to finish your master degree. On weekends, you would support Alexia on her games. Cheering her on, not caring about anything else except when Alexia had the ball on her feet.
You were happy in the bubble you and Alexia created.
That was until one Saturday night, you were seated at your usual seat at the stadium among friends and families of the players, when someone plopped down on the seat next to you.
You still weren’t that familiar with football, having only been to ten games in total. You knew the rules, you knew a couple of Alexia’s teammates after stalking them online (you two were still keeping your relationship a secret from everyone else), but that was mostly it. 
So you didn’t know who the person next to you was until she offered a small smile, outstretching her hand for you to shake.
Jenni.
The name was a bit familiar, so was her face. You couldn’t quite place where you’ve seen her before though.
“Who do you know on the team?” her voice brought you out of your daydream, wracking your brain on why she looked familiar.
“Uhm,” you stuttered. Right. This was the friends and family section, you couldn’t sit here if you didn’t know anyone. “Alexia.”
Jenni was surprised, you could tell with the way her eyes widened for a split second, not expecting your answer. “Friend of Ale’s, huh?”
You didn’t like how she said your girlfriend’s name. With that hint of… fondness. You suddenly felt a possessive feeling growing in your chest and you just wanted to tell everyone that Alexia is yours.
Jenni stared at the field, her eyes fixating on Alexia. You could see an affectionate smile on her face and that was when it clicked. You’ve seen her on Alexia's Instagram before. Jenni used to be her teammate at Barcelona before she moved to Mexico.
You knew this because in the picture, Jenni was smiling at Alexia the same way. And even though your Spanish wasn’t spectacular, you remembered reading the paragraph Alexia wrote for Jenni and getting the hint at how close they were with how Alexia seemed to think so highly of Jenni.
“You’re her teammate, yeah?”
Jenni turned back to look at you, nodding. “I don’t play for Barça anymore, but we still play on the national team together.”
“Cool.” 
Jenni gave a small laugh. “You don’t know much about football, do you?”
You grimaced, “Is it that obvious?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she patted your arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it made you feel even more stupid and out of place in this whole stadium, where everyone knew what they were getting into when they bought tickets to the game. “It’s just that—not trying to sound arrogant or anything—but usually people know who I am because I used to play for this team. So you not recognizing me straight away gave me the clue that you’re probably not a Culer.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Culer?”
“Fans of the club.”
“Ah.” You were definitely not a Barcelona fan. You were a fan of your girlfriend though, and if that meant you had to be a Culer or whatever it was, then you would be.
So when you laid down in Alexia’s bed that night, you mentioned to her that starting from today, you were a Culer. She burst out laughing and you can feel her grip you tighter, having your face completely smashed against her neck—not that you minded, you had always felt so content being pressed up against Alexia.
“Mi amor,” she cooed, looking down to face you, her hand finding its way to its favourite resting place on your cheek. “When did you learn that?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, starting to feel a bit insecure at this whole thing. “Well, we’ve been dating for three months now—next week it would be four—and I still don’t know shit about football, but, Ale… I’d be a Culer for you.”
Alexia giggled and pecked your lips, smiling your favourite smile of hers (the one that made her eyes sparkle and the small dimples on her cheek to come out).
“You’re perfect, did you know? I love you whether you’re a Culer or not.”
“Hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought. “Then what if I become a Real Madrid fan?”
Alexia gave you an unimpressed look. “Don’t push it.”
“I’m going to Madrid next week with a couple of my friends and maybe I could catch a game—”
And Alexia did what had become her favourite thing to do: interrupting your ramble with a kiss. You had a love-hate relationship with the gesture, because while you do love having her soft lips on yours, it was so annoying to be cut off mid-sentence.
You never complained though. You’d happily get interrupted if it meant having Alexia kiss you like you were the last person on earth.
That night, you buried your uneasiness as a result of your encounter with Jenni deep, deep inside.
(You didn’t know just how important Jenni was to Alexia.)
Jenni was in town for a couple of days, you’d later learn.
You would usually go to Alexia’s after you were done for the day, mostly spending the night at hers. That was why Alexia ended up giving you a spare key—so you would be able to come as you please.
It wasn’t unusual for you to have to use your spare key. What was unusual was the sight of Jenni sitting on your girlfriend’s couch, looking surprised at you barging into your girlfriend’s home.
“Hi…” you gave an awkward small wave at her, closing the door behind you as you slowly stepped inside the apartment.
“Oh! Y/N, right?” Jenni stood up to face you and you could tell that this was very much awkward for her as it was for you. “Nice to meet you again.”
You gave her your best smile, trying your hardest not to be rude as you scan the place for any sight of your favourite blonde. “Is… Alexia here?”
“I have no idea where she is honestly,” at that you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows rose to the top of your head. “I’m in Barcelona for a couple of days. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning for breakfast but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. So I figured I’d meet her tonight instead. I have an extra key so…”
You didn’t like what you were hearing at all, but you kept your cool. That was the jealousy inside of you, you knew this. Jenni’s a friend. You really should tone down your green-eyed monster.
“What are you doing here?” It was Jenni’s turn to ask you. 
“I, too, have a spare key,” you intended to joke about the situation, but your tone felt off and Jenni can sense it too. 
Jenni had a lot of questions, you could tell. It was easy to read the emotions on her face. 
You had to remind yourself that she didn’t know you were dating Alexia. She didn’t know that you basically spent more nights here than at your own place. It was natural to be curious as to why there was a random girl showing up at your best friend’s house at 10 pm, with her own sets of keys nonetheless.
Wanting to get out of the awkward situation, you excused yourself, saying you’d meet Alexia some other time, bidding Jenni goodbye.
You texted Alexia a simple good night once you settled in your bed. 
When Alexia responded back with a short text back, sweet dreams, mi amor, and not a phone call asking why you weren’t in her bed, you let that feeling of uneasiness return to the surface.
You didn’t get to overthink for too long because when you wake up, it was because you felt your bed dip and the familiar scent of your girlfriend engulfing you as she settled behind you.
“Bon dia,” Alexia whispered, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you to her. “I missed you last night.”
You turned around to burrow your face into her collarbones, letting out a content sigh. “Missed you too.”
“Jenni told me you visited my place but left immediately.”
At the mention of her name, you froze. What a way to ruin the moment. “Yeah,” was all you replied, which was weird to Alexia considering how talkative you were in the mornings.
“Why didn’t you wait for me, bebita? You always wait for me even when I’m not home.”
You shrugged, “Jenni was there already.”
Alexia went still for a moment, which you thought was odd.
You wanted so badly to keep quiet, but the 
nagging feelings that you couldn’t shake grew stronger. “She has a spare key too. Do you just go around giving keys to your apartment to everyone? I thought I was special,” you chuckled, meaning it to be a joke, waiting for Alexia to respond with her usual snarky retort.
When Alexia didn’t say anything, you pulled back from her, looking up to stare at her face. She was looking anywhere but you.
“Ale? I’m only kidding. I know she’s your friend.”
Alexia cleared her throat, “You see…” 
You sat up, something about her tone brought up that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“Jenni’s my ex.”
Ah. That definitely burst the bubble you’d carefully created.
You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So your ex still has a key to your place,” you stated. You were about to swallow your sentence when you suddenly felt anger rising in your chest with how blindsided you were. “Did she spend the night?”
Alexia looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You felt sick.
“That’s a yes.”
“Amor…”
You shook of her touch and went to stand up. You looked at the blonde in your bed and you felt your heart crushed. You hated how Alexia looked like a kicked puppy, immediately scrambling to chase after you once she realized you were leaving the room.
“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”
“Your ex still has a key to your place and she stayed the night,” you were mostly repeating it to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact somehow.
“She slept on the couch!” Alexia interjected. “Nothing happened, amor, I swear.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Alexia. Besides, deep down you knew that Alexia wasn’t the type of person to be unfaithful.
“Okay,” you relented, opening your fridge with the aim of making breakfast, trying to busy yourself with something that wasn’t looking at your girlfriend.
Alexia didn’t seem convinced that you’d drop the subject just like that. “There's nothing going on between Jenni and I. She's a good friend.”
You grabbed an empty bowl. “Okay.” You scooped some yogurt out of its jar and placed a spoonful in your bowl. Jenni’s a good friend. Just a friend.
“Mi vida… I know it’s… weird? To still be friends with an ex, but…”
You poured some granola on top of your yogurt. Who the hell stayed friends with their ex? Alexia. Sweet, lovely Alexia. 
Looking down at your bowl and seeing a sad, miserable breakfast (just like how you were feeling), you pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a small headache coming through. You felt like crying but that seemed pathetic so you shoved the feeling away. Jenni was an ex, but she was a good friend. You had to live with that.
“I trust you, Ale,” you sighed. “If you say she’s a good friend, then I trust you.” 
She went up behind you and rested her chin on your shoulder, her arms encircling your waist. “I love you,” she whispered into your shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “I really do. Jenni and I broke up ages ago.”
They broke up ages ago. That was grand. You were fine. People stayed friends with their ex and nothing happened. Right?
When you didn’t say anything else, just continuing to stare at your breakfast, Alexia poked your side. “Hey,” she placed a peck on your back. “Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, love.” More like jealous. Or fucking devastated that your girlfriend’s ex was a sexy footballer just like herself. How could you ever compete with that?
“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Babygirl.”
At that you couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips. You turned around to face her, her arms stayed trapping you against the counter. “Please don't call me that ever again.”
“Why?” Alexia smirked, her face inching closer to yours. 
“I hate it, Ale, por favor,” you groaned. 
Alexia grinned at you, pecking your lips “Hm. I love when you speak Spanish.”
And when Alexia kissed you, any thoughts of your girlfriend’s ex escaped your brain completely. 
Alexia chose you. So what if she still hung out with her ex? Plenty of people do. Plus, you trust Alexia. You had nothing to worry about.
Apparently it wasn’t Alexia you had to worry about. It was yourself. You were your own worst enemy and all that.
You didn’t mean to let the thoughts run loose.
When Jenni left for Mexico, you were elated. No more running into your girlfriend’s ex and no more ex-girlfriend trying to steal your girlfriend’s time away from you.
You didn’t factor in the fact that Alexia and Jenni were national teammates. So when international break came and both Alexia and Jenni were called up to camp in Portugal… 
You felt like you were going crazy.
You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You didn't think that Alexia would cheat on you—that possibility never crossed your mind.
You just couldn’t help but feel incomparible to Jenni.
That was how you went into a rabbit hole of watching every Alexia and Jenni videos on the internet.
It was a mistake, really. A stupid, terrible mistake, because you could see how well they fit together.
Their chemistry on and off the field were something else, you kinda felt stupid to think that Jenni was the one ruining your relationship when it could very well be that you were the one preventing Alexia from being with someone who truly gets her.
Because you were sure that Jenni understood Alexia in ways that you may never do. They had been through thick and thin together—Alexia’s injury, the issue with the Spanish Federation—they won countless of football championships together, for god's sake.
And how exactly were you supposed to compete with that? Alexia lived and breathed football, you wouldn’t step foot inside a football match if your girlfriend wasn't on the team.
You didn’t get this world of hers and you knew that you never would. 
Unlike Jenni. This was her world already. 
They'd be perfect together—they were perfect together.
You hated how you were able to let your thoughts spiral as you stared at another video of Jenni looking at Alexia like she was the only person in the room.
You knew Alexia loved you, you had no doubt about that, and you loved her too. But maybe Jenni could love her better.
Jenni was perfect for Alexia in ways that you weren’t. With that thought replaying in your head, you turned off your phone and kept it locked inside your drawer.
You were never one to be obsessed with your phone, having gone days without it and being absolutely fine. So that was what you did. Mostly because you didn't want to talk to Alexia.
You couldn’t handle it if Alexia came to the same realization as you—that you were nothing compared to Jenni and she could very much just get back together with her ex.
Just imagining it crushed your heart into bits so you tried your best to push it away as you went through your day.
Alexia decided to leave camp a day earlier than she was supposed to. She said she had a family emergency to attend to, which was true, considering you had yet to respond to any of her calls or texts. She must’ve sounded so desperate to return back to Barcelona, causing them to reluctantly let her go.
She got on the first plane available and went straight home. Usually you would stay over at hers when she was out of town, claiming that you always missed her when she wasn’t around and having her scent engulf you was the next best thing.
However, when Alexia entered her apartment and there were no signs of you, she dropped her bag and hurriedly got into her car to drive to yours. She thanked god that your place was only five minutes away. 
Quickly putting her car into park, she tried to regulate her breathing and convinced herself that you were fine. 
You were fine. You had to be. You were fine when Alexia left for the airport just a week ago.
With the thought that you maybe broke your phone or lost it, Alexia inserted the spare key you gave her and unlocked the door.
You weren’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. So that left one more place. Knocking softly on your bedroom door, she called out your name. When she didn’t get a reply, she let herself in.
No one was there, or in the bathroom. Sighing to herself, she made her way back to the living room and laid down on the couch.
Alexia was never the one to cry easily but she really wanted to. She had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. Never had she felt so helpless before.
This was maybe her fault for wanting to keep you two a secret.
Now she couldn’t contact any of your friends because she didn’t know them.
She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on where you could be. The café you work at, perhaps? But it was a Sunday and you didn’t work on Sundays because Alexia didn’t have anything to do either and Sundays were your lounging-around-in-bed-until-lunch-time type of days.
Maybe you were at the library. You were going to have your exams next week. Alexia already had your schedule memorized. But it was nearing midnight and you never—
“Ale?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your tone. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at camp?”
Alexia jumped a foot in the air, mostly because she didn’t hear you come in and was scared shitless but also because oh my god, she could finally breathe now that you were okay. 
Alexia immediately wrapped her arms around you, she felt like she never wanted to let you go. Ever. “And you’re supposed to reply to my calls, amor.”
Well. 
“My phone’s broken.”
Alexia pulled back and looked at you, her face telling you that she didn’t quite believe you. 
“My phone’s lost…?” you tried again, giving her a sheepish smile. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring her.
Alexia only sighed in response, dropping on the couch and pulling you to sit on her lap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, mi vida. I was really worried.”
You felt even guiltier now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be.”
You were taken aback at the look of pure disbelief on Alexia’s face at your words. You really didn’t think she’d worry about you—with having to go to training everyday, hanging out with her national teammates, having Jenni around.
“That’s…” Alexia shook her head, trying to get her words out. “That’s ridiculous, amor. Why would I not be worried about you?”
You shrugged. “You’re busy, love. I’d understand.”
Alexia quickly shook her head, you were afraid she'd get whiplash with how frantic her movements were. “I am always busy during camp, sí, but never too busy enough for you? Did I do something to make you feel like I would not have time for you? I didn’t realize—”
Now it was your turn to silence her with a kiss, which was a rare occurrence—cool, calm Alexia never rambled.
You felt her sigh against your mouth, her whispers of a soft “te amo mucho” made you go completely limp in her arms.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her. “It’s just me, don’t worry about it.”
“I will always have time for you and I will always worry about you. Because I love you.”
You smiled at her, despite having the worst feeling in the pit of your stomach you still believe her whenever she said it to you. “I love you too, Ale. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
She was still looking at you with worry etched on her face. “Anything else on your pretty mind?” 
You felt that if you voiced your thoughts out loud, you’d sound like a crazy, jealous girlfriend and you didn’t want that. So you simply said nothing and laid your head on her chest.
This was fine. You were in Alexia’s arms. Jenni was far away in Mexico. (Well, Portugal right now, but she’d eventually return to Mexico).
You promised yourself you wouldn't let your insane, full of jealousy thoughts ruin what you had with Alexia.
People found out about you and Alexia a month later. And by people, that meant the whole damn earth.
Since you never mentioned Alexia to your friends—just casually mentioning that you were seeing someone, but not necessarily specifying who exactly you were dating—the moment your pictures with alexia blew up on the internet, so did your phone.
They were candid pictures of you and Alexia at the beach. Private candid pictures.
You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the countless texts from your friends.
how did you manage to bag THE alexia putellas???
idiota text me back wtf!!!
did you blackmail her oh my god you genius
Which were definitely rude. And didn’t help at all the voices at the back of your head screaming that you weren't good enough for Alexia.
It was a hellish morning.
The only thing saving it was the sound of keys at the front door, and a moment later your girlfriend was stepping inside your apartment, humming happily as she placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. She most likely hadn’t seen the pictures yet.
“Ale,” you called out, giving her a weak smile as she turned her head towards you.
“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia instantly furrowing her brows at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Whats wrong?”
You hated how she could read you so well. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
She flopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side. You left out the biggest sigh and just handed her your phone, where the pictures of the two of you were still open.
You felt Alexia stiffen up and you closed your eyes, willing that this wasn't the end for you two. You knew just how much Alexia valued her privacy. 
It was silent for a minute or so, alexia tapping away on your phone. 
“Lo siento,” Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I already restricted the comments on your Instagram, you shouldn’t be dealing with all that. People can be a bit… much sometimes.”
Oh. You hadn't even thought to check your Instagram page. You were glad though, you couldn't imagine what vile things people were saying about you. It must be bad enough that that was where Alexia immediately thought to go.
“Is it that bad?” you voiced out, pulling back so you could see Alexia’s face. She looked surprisingly calm. “Babe, how are you so calm about this?”
“The comments on your posts are a lot, but I didn’t read them,” Alexia said simply. “It can be overwhelming, that's why I wanted to shield you from all of that. When you're ready you can just turn it back on.”
You smiled at how thoughtful she was. You really loved her. “You don't have to shield me from anything, Ale. I can handle a few nasty comments. You also haven’t answered my question.”
Alexia looked questioningly at you, grabbing at your arms to pull you closer again.
You settled nicely in her arms, your back pressing against her front as she laid down on the couch. “What question?”
“How you’re so calm about all of this.”
“Ah,” you can feel Alexia's chuckle and you turn around. You were now facing her again (your favorite thing to do—who would ever be tired of staring at Alexia’s face). You placed both of your hands on her face and ran your fingers through her jaw. “I’m anything but calm, bebita. You should feel my heart.”
“I can feel it.”
“Then you know I’m not calm.”
“You are the epitome of calm right now, baby,” you laughed, the nerves still shimmering across your entire body, whereas Alexia looked like it was just a regular Saturday for her.
Alexia took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours. “I’m scared. That is the truth. I’m really, really scared. But I know we will get through this. Together. As long as I have you and you have me, I think everything will be alright.”
You smiled at her, truly feeling how she meant her words. You pecked her lips and went back to snuggle into her, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.
“I love you, Ale. You have me. Always.”
The next few weeks passed by in a blur. You finally got introduced to Alexia’s friends—Alexia brought you to Lucy and Ona’s housewarming party for their new place. Everyone loved you and you felt like you fit right in. It was great. You felt happy.
(You didn't let the thoughts of why it took a media outlet leaking your pictures for Alexia to bring you around to meet the people in her life, but you cast it aside.)
You met up with your friends and finally told them about Alexia. They were all wary, thinking it was too good to be true. A couple of snide remarks were thrown around about how Alexia could do better, even though your friends said it in a joking way, it still hurt.
But you managed by.
The next thing you knew you were being introduced to Eli and Alba.
It went fine, the most important people in your girlfriend's life seemed to like you, asking you questions about all sorts of things.
It wasn't until Alba casually mentioned how she was going to Mexico with some of her friends and how she would be staying with Jenni the whole week that you realized how closely intertwined Jenni was with Alexia’s life.
Your girlfriend's little sister lighting up as she mentioned all the places Jenni was planning on taking her to. You realized that Alba grew up with Jenni and she most likely saw Jenni as her big sister too; how devastated was she when Alexia and Jenni broke up and Jenni would never officially be a part of their family?
Going home that night, your mind was filled with how Alba and Eli were most likely comparing you to Jenni. Once again you were met with the question that seemed to always bother you: how were you supposed to compete with Jenni Hermoso?
The next thing you knew it was time for the World Cup. A very big deal for your girlfriend.
Especially since this was her first big tournament after suffering her injury.
You flew to support her, occasionally meeting with Alba and Eli for lunch (you knew you wouldn’t live up to Jenni, but you could try to make them like you better).
They hadn't given an indication that they disliked you, but just to be safe, you were willing to go the extra mile to make your girlfriend's family like you. You didn't have a decade-long history with them, but you could meet up with them to eat sushi even though you hated eating raw fish.
A small price to pay. Alba was really craving salmon sashimi.
At night, Alexia called you, telling you about her day. Mostly, you let her stay in the zone, you knew how important this was for her; you never called her first, letting her take the lead. You didn't want to be a distraction.
You two have talked about this before. You, scared that you'd be a distraction and Alexia looking at you as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alexia reassured you that you'd never be a distraction and nothing had to change.
You were nervous. You didn't know what being a wag entailed during a big tournament.
It went fine though and your best friends did told you that you were worrying for nothing.
(You still couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Alexia was spending basically every waking moment with Jenni. But it was fine. Jenni was her teammate. They support each other in different ways.)
Alexia called you every night, some nights Alexia fell asleep with the call still connected and you were left to longingly stare at her, longing to be there next to your girlfriend.
Despite her reassurance that she wanted you to bother her, you didn’t want to seem like a needy girlfriend.
So you toned down your texts, looking at updates of your girlfriend through Instagram (it was a bit pathetic). When you tapped on the next Instagram story and it was a video of Alexia giggling with Jenni, you almost lost it. Almost.
They were friends. Best friends. Exes, yes, but their relationship went beyond that. You knew this. You’ve spent hours down the rabbit hole of reading their history on some blog. 
And once again you were left to wonder why Alexia chose you when she can be with her soulmate.
It was an endless cycle and you knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to talk to your girlfriend about your insecurities and just hope that she wasn’t going to think you were silly. 
For now though, you were ready to cheer her on as she took the biggest stage in her career.
All the best teams in the world were great, but Spain was better. Alexia was a superstar, like always.
So of course Spain won the World Cup, you had no doubt about it.
What you didn't expect was Alexia exchanging jerseys with Jenni out of all people. You bit your tongue, the cheers all around you didn't do much to drown the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.
You loved your girlfriend, you were so proud of her. 
But as your sweet girlfriend celebrated on the pitch with her ex’s name on her chest, you never knew pain like this.
They were World Champions together. How could you even compete with that? It wasn't your name that Alexia was proudly showing off to the world. 
You and Alexia’s family were then escorted backstage. You waited, and waited, swallowing the bitter feeling in your chest. You were happy for Alexia, you really were. But was it necessary to trade jerseys with Jenni? 
Before you knew it, Alexia came barrelling towards you. J. HERMOSO visible across her chest.
You hugged her, whispered how proud of her you were, and when Alexia was whisked off for media duties, you prayed that she wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you.
Alexia and Jenni had years of memories, years of going through the ups and downs of football together. Them winning the World Cup together just added another notable piece to their already intricate history.
Jenni Hermoso was a million times better than you, her winning the World Cup just sealed it even more.
You let Alexia celebrate with her teammates, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you waited for her in your hotel room.
She insisted you come along, but you declined, not wanting to rain on her parade.
When Alexia stumbled into your hotel room later into the night, you traded sweet nothings into each other’s ears as you let Alexia do whatever she wanted to you.
You felt loved, but you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest that Alexia could love Jenni better.
Being back in Barcelona felt nice.
You were a million miles away from Jenni but still the feeling of insecurity lingered. You knew you had to talk to Alexia soon before it ate you alive.
You just didn't think that it’d blow up to an argument.
You went out with your friends for lunch, promising Alexia that you’d be back in time for your weekly movie nights.
When you entered your shared home you were met with Alexia lying horizontally on your couch.
She was laughing at the TV, too engrossed in whatever she was watching that she hadn’t noticed you coming in.
You went straight to the kitchen, rummaging around your fridge to look for something to do. You weren’t hungry after the lunch you had, but you just wanted to do something. Your hands were full of nerves, mostly due to the annoyance radiating off you.
You were annoyed at your friends and how they kept on making comments about you and Alexia. They didn’t mean any harm, but it got too much.
Before your thoughts wandered further, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.
“I didn’t hear you get in.”
You hummed, looking at the ingredients in front of you. Guess you were making some banana bread.
You could feel Alexia’s gaze on you as you basically ignored her. Alexia always knew when something was up with you.
“Is everything okay? Why are you baking?”
You shrugged, getting the necessary equipment from the cupboard.
“Y/N?”
“I just feel like baking,” you didn’t mean to sound curt. Alexia immediately loosened her grip on you, leaning against the counter as she searched for your eyes. 
“Okay… Well, do you want me to help?”
“Not really.” You knew you weren’t being fair—Alexia didn’t do anything wrong—but you had your reasons.
Your reasons were the comments your friends made that reinforced the thoughts you had been carrying around for months. You were insecure, disgruntled, and dejected all at once. 
You paused for a second before blurting out, “Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?”
Alexia froze. The conversation thrown around during lunch earlier kept echoing in your head.
“Was keeping it a secret Alexia’s idea?”
“Why though? Is she ashamed of you or something?”
“Is it true that she used to date Jenni Hermoso?”
“If I used to date Jenni Hermoso then I would never—well, I wouldn’t say downgrade, but…”
“Hey, that’s just mean! Alexia didn’t downgrade with Y/N!”
“You’re seriously picking Y/N over Jenni Hermoso? Y/N, you know I love you, but let’s be serious for a second.”
“Ale, are you embarrassed of me?”
“What?” Alexia was taken aback at your question, a bewildered look settling on her face. “I am not embarrassed of you. Where is this coming from?”
You scoffed. “Then why didn’t you want people to know about us? About me?”
Alexia was speechless for a second, not expecting that this was where the conversation was going. “Because my world can be harsh and I just want to protect you from it. I told you this, amor. We’ve had this conversation before.”
While that used to sound sweet, now it just irritated you.
“Yeah, but I can handle it.”
Alexia gave you a look that said she didn't believe you. You felt offended. Sure, you were an overly emotional person, but you were sure you could handle it. You were handling it. There were people who spewed out nasty comments about you on the internet everyday but you brushed them off—none of their opinions matter to you. 
Your girlfriend’s opinions matter to you.
“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you sarcastically said, angrily slamming the bananas on the counter. This conversation was really getting on your nerves. You almost wished you didn't bring it up in the first place.
Alexia let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t have any faith in you. I just want to protect you. The last time I was in a relationship, it was with someone in the football field,” you hoped she didn’t notice how you immediately stiffen. “I didn’t have to worry so much because she knew how it was—”
You suddenly were so irritated at the reminder of Jenni that you snapped. “I know I’m not Jenni!”
Alexia was surprised at your sudden outburst.
“Qué? I know you are not her—”
“But you wish I was.” 
Alexia looked so taken aback at your accusation that you immediately felt guilty for ever saying it.
“…What?”
But it seems that despite the guilt you felt, the pent up anger inside you was overflowing, desperate to let itself out.
“Jenni is perfect, Jenni plays football, Jenni can handle the media, Jenni knows all your friends and family. Everyone likes Jenni better than me!”
“Amor, no! That’s— Where is this coming from?”
You almost wished you didn’t mention any of this in the first place with the way Alexia was looking at you like a blindsided, kicked puppy. 
You wanted to try to explain your side of things to her. You felt like your feelings about this whole thing were valid, albeit you could definitely handle it differently. Like, not bottling things up until they eventually blew up.
“You’re still good friends with your ex, Ale,” was all you could come up with.
“…Yes? We went through a lot together; she was a big part of my life.” At that you rolled your eyes. Obviously she was a big part of Alexia’s life. Weren’t all exes a big part of our lives at some point?
When you didn't say anything else and continued to prepare for your banana bread, Alexia continued, “It wasn't a bad breakup... We just decided that we were better off as friends.”
Honestly, you’ve had enough of hearing about Jenni.
“That’s exactly it, isn't it? You two went through a lot together, Ale. You won the freaking World Cup together and you went around parading her name on your chest while I was at the stands cheering you on despite having to see you with your ex’s name on all the fucking pictures of you and the trophy. And yeah she lives all the way in Mexico but you have international camps together while I'm at home, watching Instagram stories of you two, wondering why you're still giving me the time of the day when you could be with someone like her? For god’s sake Ale, she's hot! I get it! I do! And she’s 5’9 and I’m not—”
“Amor, stop,” Alexia interrupted your rambling, stepping closer to you but you didn't let her, shaking your head and taking a step away. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt that way—”
“It’s stupid. Forget it.” Embarrassment filled your cheeks.
“No, no, it’s not. It’s not stupid if you feel that way, my love. I’m so, so sorry that I didn't realize how this was making you feel.”
You sighed. It wasn’t Alexia’s fault, you knew that. You should've told her. It wasn't her fault because she didn't know.
You were now even more embarrassed that you let it turn into such a big deal.
So you took one last look at your girlfriend and ran out the door.
An hour into your aimless walk, you realized that you didn’t bring your phone with you, which meant you couldn’t Uber your way back home.
You realized that this meant you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up.
To make it worse, the sky started to rumble, signaling that the possibility of a heavy rain was coming sooner than you think.
Everything felt like a disaster.
You slumped down on a nearby bench. You knew where you were, you had no trouble getting home without Google maps. But it was an hour walk here, which meant it would be another hour walk home.
You groaned, thinking of the best way out of this predicament you put yourself in.
It was nearing midnight, but Barcelona had always been a lively place, so there were still plenty of passersby. You could ask to borrow someone’s phone, call Alexia, and wait until she picked you up.
But that would mean a random stranger would have Alexia’s number on their phone. You didn’t know if people would recognize you and put two and two together on who you were calling. You didn’t want to take that risk.
You could call one of your friends, but you didn’t remember any of their numbers.
The only number you knew by heart was Alexia’s. 
Placing your hands over your face, you took a deep breath and pushed back the stinging feeling behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry. You really wanted to because of how pathetic you were, but you couldn’t. You’d just feel even worse.
With every minute that passed by, you started to feel even more guilty at the thought of how worried Alexia must be.
Standing up, you decided you could just borrow someone’s Uber app, or even hail a taxi from somewhere. You decided that you had to go home right now. Alexia must be driving herself crazy when she realized you weren’t one call away.
Just when you were about to step into the direction of two friendly-looking strangers, the first droplet fell on top of your head.
“Fuck.”
Soon enough, the rain went down heavily. Everyone started running in all directions, trying to shield themselves from the pouring rain and you were left standing there, feeling sorry for yourself because great now you were stranded and drenched.
You sat back down and let the rain wash over you, finally letting out the sobs you were withholding.
You had a lot of thoughts in your head, but mostly, you just wanted Alexia. You wanted her right now. If you weren’t such a jealous girlfriend, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be questioning her decade-long friendship with one of her best friends.
You wouldn’t—
“Amor!”
You whipped your head up and despite the water blocking your eyesight, you could always tell that it was your girlfriend’s figure running towards you.
You were a sobbing mess, sitting all alone in the rain in the middle of Barcelona, but still Alexia managed to find you. Alexia was drenched all over too, no umbrella in sight, as she kneeled down on the pavement and brought your crying face into her neck. 
Alexia pulled back and you could tell that she had been crying too. Great. You felt a million times worse now.
“What the hell are you doing?! You didn’t have your phone with you, I didn’t know where you were!” 
“I’m sorry,” you cried out, your voice barely audible due to the heavy patter of the rain. “I walked for a long time and I ended up here and it was an hour away and I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t get back home without walking another hour and my feet are killing me and I feel so bad because you must be so worried and it’s all my fault! And now you’re here, I don’t know how you managed to find me but I’m so glad you’re here and oh my god—we’re both probably gonna be sick. I’m sorry! I love you, Ale, I’m so sorry!”
“Hey, hey,” Alexia cooed, placing her forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. I love you too, please stop crying, mi amorcita. It’s okay.”
You took a deep breath, which didn’t end up helping because having water fall over your head made breathing a bit harder. 
Alexia placed a kiss on your forehead, standing up and pulling you against her.
You felt yourself sag against her, Alexia holding you upright. “Can we go home? I’m really cold.”
“Of course, mi vida. Let’s go home.”
Once you got into Alexia’s car, you started to cry again.
Mostly because it was warm and you were so relieved, but also because you felt bad that you were flooding her car with your wet clothes.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?”
Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away your tears.
“I’m ruining your leather seats. Your car is ruined.”
Alexia let out a laugh. You looked at her like she was crazy. “Stop laughing at me,” you cried out. “Ale.”
“Oh, bebé,” Alexia tugged you across the console, wanting to pull you close once more. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”
“Then?”
“You’re too cute, you know? This will all dry up, amor. Besides, you’re not the only one whose clothes are wet. Look at me.”
You knew Alexia was trying to cheer you up, but at the reminder that the reason Alexia was soaked in the first place was because of you, you felt your bottom lip start to wobble.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Now we’re both gonna freeze to death.”
Alexia simply placed a kiss on your cheek, putting the car in gear. “I won’t let you freeze to death.”
Looking out the window and seeing the familiar route home, you felt at peace even though you were still trembling from your wet clothing.
You didn’t know what state you would be in had Alexia not found you. 
“Ale.” 
She looked at you for a split second before redirecting her gaze on the road. “Hm?”
“How did you even find me?”
You saw the smirk before she could answer. “It’s called telepathy, amor.”
“Ale. I’m serious.”
“I’m serious too,” Alexia shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s our connection, Y/N.”
You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Whatever. Idiota.”
Alexia laughed, her hand blindly searching for yours. You let her take your hand, the touch causing warmth to settle deep in your chest.
You didn’t let go of her hand all the way home.
After taking a warm shower, you laid on your side of the bed, waiting for Alexia to finish with hers.
(Alexia decided to shower in the guest bathroom, not wanting to invade your privacy in case you were still mad at her.)
(You quickly rebutted her statement and said that you weren’t ‘mad’ at her, just ‘annoyed’.)
Just when you were about to call out her name because Alexia was taking too long when she could shower in under five minutes, your girlfriend appeared, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom, a sheepish smile on her face.
“Can I still sleep with you or should I stay in the guest bedroom?”
You gestured for her to join you on the bed, relief falling on Alexia’s face as she approached you. 
Once you were both under the covers, Alexia immediately resumed her position as the big spoon. You placed your hand over hers that was draped across your stomach, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.
“Can we talk about it?” Alexia whispered.
You didn’t want to. You were embarrassed. But you knew you had to. So you took a deep breath and let out everything you had been feeling for months—how you knew Alexia loved you, but oftentimes your thoughts took over and convinced you that Alexia couldn’t love you fully, not really. Especially knowing that she could have someone as perfect as Jenni.
“Y/N, I don’t want Jenni. I’m not in love with her anymore. You have to believe me.”
“But she’s… she’s perfect for you.”
“You’re perfect for me. It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I love, Y/N.”
You turned around at the way Alexia’s voice was shaking, which was usually the tell-tale signs that she was about to cry.
And sure enough, Alexia had tears welling up in her eyes and that broke you. Your girlfriend was never one to cry often so the sight made you crumble and realize just how much she was telling the truth.
You reached out and wiped away her tears that managed to escape, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Please don’t cry, Ale. I’m sorry—“
“Don’t apologize,” Alexia interjected. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just sad because you can’t see how amazing you are. It pains me that you don’t see yourself the way I see you.”
“I guess I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you can have someone like Jenni, yet you’re choosing to be with someone like me.”
“Hey, don't be mean to my girlfriend,” Alexia turned serious, staring right into your eyes as she speak. “She’s perfect to me. She’s the only one I’ll ever want. Ever.”
You stayed quiet, taking in her words. You still didn't know what Alexia saw in you, but with the fierce stare full of determination she was wearing, you were starting to believe her. Believe that there were amazing qualities about you that made Alexia fall head over heels in love with you.
“You promise that you’ll love me even though I’m nowhere near as good as Jenni at football and I’m not as famous as her—Ale, I don’t have a World Cup trophy…”
“Y/N, my love, of course I do. I promise. I love you. I do, with all my heart.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m still going to have my insecurities. They’re not going away just like that.”
“I understand, amor,” Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently, you could feel her love for you seeping from her fingers. “I’ll tell you everyday that you're all I’ll ever need until you believe me.”
You didn't have to be a footballer and you didn't have to go and win a World Cup, Alexia would still love you for who you were.
The opening game of the season fell on your birthday. You were seated at your usual seat with Alba and Eli. Eli had organized a small party after the game, she had baked you a birthday cake and wanted you to blow out the candles before your birthday dinner with Alexia.
When your girlfriend went out to the pitch, your jaw dropped. Instead of wearing her usual 11, she was wearing your birthdate on her back.
She easily spotted you in the stands, pointing at her back then pointing at you. This is for you, you could hear her message loud and clear.
You could cry right there and then. (You did cry).
Later Alexia uploaded her usual post-match Instagram post. The pictures of her wearing the jersey with your number made it extra special, especially the video she included of herself running over to you, lifting you up in her arms, and spinning you around—the happiness radiating from the two of you clearly visible.
The cherry on top was the caption underneath:
special numbers today in honour of my girl’s birthday. te amo mucho, amor @y/n 🥰❤️
All those fears of being not good enough, all those fears of Jenni replacing you, you now thought it was all so silly.
Because you knew without a doubt how much Alexia loved you.
“What are you daydreaming about?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, a cheeky smile on your face. “Just thinking about how dumb you look with that birthday hat on.”
“Hey! This is all for you, amor!”
You laughed at her pout, the pointy birthday hat still sitting on top of her head. 
You were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Barcelona. Everyone was wearing a fancy dress—you were wearing one too, Alexia on the other hand was wearing a dapper three-piece suit.
You had a birthday hat in your clutch from Alba earlier and once you both had ordered, you took it out and gave it to your girlfriend. You jokingly asked her to wear it, not expecting her to do so.
But when she took it with a roll of her eyes, “anything to make you smile” falling off her lips and she ended up wearing the thing throughout your dinner, you had no more doubt that it was you Alexia wanted.
You didn't have any football silks, you weren’t a World Champion, you weren’t Jenni Hermoso.
But with every waking moment you spent with Alexia, you could feel how much she loved you despite it all.
Especially when Alexia got down on one knee and especially when you had a mini-you running around. You knew that there was nothing in this world that could change what you had with her.
(Not even Jenni Hermoso, who is now someone you call a best friend and the godmother to your daughter).
thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts!!🫶🏼
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slaytheusurper · 9 months ago
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⭑ Undercover ⭑
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Well I've officially written my first one-shot, a smutty one nonetheless and I hope you like it. I noticed that there are like 0 fics/one shots of daddy Tim Bradford so I took it upon myself to write one.
summary: I used some of episode 7 season 4 where Tim goes undercover and uhm things happen between you.
Warnings: +18, MDNI, vaginal, creampie, handjob, making out, tim having a sir kink, tim being hot as fuck.
Words: 3.7K
tim bradford x fem!reader
It was the early morning of yet another exciting Monday on the job. Only this time you’re annoying yet hot training officer Tim Bradford wasn’t your training officer anymore. Finally you had freedom, even though it felt strange and almost sad even to not ride with him anymore it also felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. You were deep in thought making your to go-cup of iced coffee when a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Well good morning, you’re awake early.” Jackson grinned in the hall leading to his room. He had been your roommate for about 2 years now and after the academy, joining the LAPD out in the real world, called for a friend who knew what you went through. “Yes of course! It’s our first day of freedom. I’m planning on making it the best day ever so I’m going to be on time and prepared. I don’t want my first day to be a failure, I need to prove to Tim that I don’t need him anymore.” You responded to Jackson while pouring the hot coffee over to the to-go cup. 
“You know you don’t need to prove yourself to Tim, he knows how good of a cop you’ve become. I mean I get it but still, today will be great. I just know it.” Jackson said as he walked up to you and gave an encouraging pat on your shoulder. “So no coffee for me?” He asked, pretending to look sad as he watched you add the ice. “Sorry, sorry I’ll make some for you too.” You laughed. When you finished up Jacksons coffee as well you two walked out to your car and headed to the station. 
After changing into your uniform you headed into roll call while also pretending not to look for your ex-training officer. You took your seat, now in the second row, and talked excitedly to John about the next phase in your career. Some time passed and everyone had taken their seat, Tim as well, but you pretended not to notice his grumbley voice in the early morning. Something you came to appreciate over the years working with him. However you quickly shut up when sergeant Grey walked in. “Good morning everyone, let’s begin today with congratulations to our rookies who are now P2’s. Good job officer Nolan, West and (Y/L/N) it’s not every year that all the rookies pull through. However this new found freedom without your T.O’s does not mean that you’re off the hook, you’ll still be monitored only you now call your own shots. That would be all for this morning, good luck out there.” Grey finished and you smiled at Jackson and John who were both seated on either side of you. 
When you walked out of roll call you caught a glimpse of Tim walking behind you and joining you at your side. “Just because you’re not my boot anymore doesn’t mean that you can slack off now, understood?” Tim lectured as he looked at you sternly. “Of course sir, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded with a slight smile, you couldn’t help but think he needed to lecture you one last time before you went out on your own but just as you were about to point that out to him Jackson joined your “conversation”. “(Y/n) we should ride together today, already got it approved by Grey.” Jackson smiled. “That sounds great Jackson, let’s grab our gear.” Jackson agreed and you wished Tim good luck today as you headed to grab your gear. You and Jackson then set up the shop and left to go out on patrol. After a couple of calls that were fairly timid you drove yourself and Jackson to the food trucks nearby where your fellow officers were already enjoying a well deserved lunch. The day went on pretty swiftly with nothing major other than a robbery in a convenience store. When the suspect was processed you got called over by Lopez wanting to talk to you about a woman allegedly adding tiger blood in her skin care line and asking if you could join Tim in interrogating her as you were always good at getting a confession out of suspects and Tim could use a hand. 
You accepted the challenge and headed over to the interrogation room where Tim and the woman would be. The door creaked as you opened it, Tim’s eyes on you as you entered the room and stood beside him. “I’m officer (Y/L/N), I will be asking you some questions, Mrs Carter is it?” You asked the older woman sitting opposite of Tim. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Officer Bradford is already questioning me.” Mrs Carter almost sneered, clearly she wasn’t happy with the situation. “Well Mrs Carter I am here to uh... learn, I haven’t been on the job long and need some experience, so I hope you won’t mind.” You quickly answered, glancing at Tim who was standing next to you, looking a bit annoyed. “I understand that you recently started your own skin care line?” You asked her while skimming through her file. “Yes we’re a small operation but we’re growing.” She smiled proudly. “We’re hoping to get a write up in Goop.” She continued. “I-I don’t know what that is.” Tim looked at you confused. “I’ll explain later.” You told him, putting the file down. “A friend of yours gave us your night cream, she claimed that it contains tigers blood, like, literally blood from an endangered animal.” You stated. “Firms the skin right up.” She smiled, as if this was completely normal. You almost gasped at her quick confession and looked surprised at Tim before you pointed out, “Participating in the endangered animal trade could land you in jail for up to five years.” 
“You don’t understand the wellness game. It’s cutthroat. I need to stand out. How else am I gonna compete with Sloan and her vitamin business? I mean everybody knows that her B-12 rejuvenation pills are just benzos in fancy bottles.” She mused while crossing her arms. Tim gave you an astonished look, which you returned. “Um, she’s selling psychiatric drugs?” You asked the woman. “Oh, the whole ‘westside buffet.” Mrs Carter shrugged. “What’s Sloan’s last name?” Tim exhaled, knowing that this was going to be a dragging one. After some time you and Tim found the woman Mrs Carter had talked about and she was brought in the interrogation room where you two waited for her. 
“Take off your sunglasses, ma’am.” Tim sighed at the woman with the big round sunglasses while she was crossing her arms. “Do I have to? These fluorescent lights give me vertigo.” She asked, annoyed. “Okay well that could be the least of your worries. We’ve been informed that you’re selling psychiatric drugs as a vitamin.” Tim continued. “Who said that?” The woman scoffed, now taking off her sunglasses. “Doesn’t matter.” Tim cut her off. “I’m helping people. What’s the problem?” She expressed. Tim rolled his eyes. “You can’t prescribe a controlled substance without a medical license.” You told her. “My husband is a doctor, it's the family prescription pad.” The woman said as if it was obvious. “Yeah that’s not a thing.” You objected, you could feel that Tim was over it. “Look I don’t think you’re hearing me, this makes you a drug dealer.” Tim explained, now getting more irritated. “And given the circumstances a pretty high level one. You could be looking at twenty years in prison.” He continued. “What?! No, no, no, no, no. This whole thing has gotten terribly out of hand. Who ratted me out anyway?” She stuttered. “It was Aston wasn’t it? She’s been trying to break me down ever since I stole her portrait painter. Like she needs to be hung on a wall. You want a real crime to chase? Aston’s trying to hire a hitman.” She claimed almost proudly. “Wh- What do you mean?” You asked her confused. “Her husband's worth more dead than alive, so she’s been on the dark web trying to hire someone to kill him.” She smiled. You and Tim both sighed and looked at each other, this was bigger than you thought. The both of you knew what you had to do, so with permission from Grey, Tim would go undercover as a hitman to try and get the woman to say word for word she wanted her husband dead. 
After you got the equipment sorted in the van you waited for Tim to arrive in the parking lot with the Mercedes as the setup vehicle, while the van you were in was parked next to him. You heard a car arrive and opened the door of the van to greet Tim who was now parking the car. “Okay, oh... that’s your disguise?” You asked him smiling, he looked like a completely normal man, not at all like a criminal. “This is what real hitmen look like.” He scoffed as he now stood in front of you. “That is not the point. Come on, get in.” You said ushering him inside the back of the van. He sighs while stepping in the van, sitting down as you climbed in as well, closing the sliding door behind you before you took a seat close to him. “What I’m wearing is fine.” He claimed. “Okay, third rule of undercover work. Know your audience. You are not trying to fool another criminal. You’re trying to fool a woman who gets her ideas about crime from Lifetime movies. Put it on” You explained as you hold the black blazer out to him. “Fine.” He said as he almost ripped the blazer out of your hands. “Thank you.” He removed his open zip up hoodie and instead put the blazer on. “Oh my god.” He scoffed, knowing he looked ridiculous. “Yeah, that’s much better.” You smiled. “I look like an idiot. I’d pull me over in a heartbeat.” Tim sighed. “Exactly, because you look the part.” You said while handing him the earpiece. “Alright mic me up, let’s get this over with.” Tim said as he raised his shirt, revealing his toned abs. You tried to play cool but couldn’t help taking a peek as you peeled the back of the sticker part of the mic off and reached over to stick it on Tim’s chest. “It's a little too high.” Tim said as you stuck the mic on him. “I know what I’m doing.” You said slightly annoyed. You checked the mic and waited for the woman as she should be at your location soon, so Tim moved over to the Mercedes, while you moved so you could listen in and record their conversation. 
After some time the woman pulled into the parking lot and Tim stepped out of the car. She pulled up next to him, turned off the engine and rolled down her window. “You made sure you weren't followed?” Tim asked her as he leaned down near her window. “Yes. I drove around in circles for like half an hour.” She said with a smile on her lips. Tim then entered the car as you watched closely, the thought of his toned abs still in your mind. “So, how does this work?” The woman asked curiously. “Well, that's up to you. Your ad indicated you have a problem with your husband?” Tim started. “Yes. I need him to not be alive anymore.” She told him. “Hm, that’s not gonna be enough. We need her to spell it out.” You told Tim in his ear piece. “Do you want it to look like natural causes? A suicide? Homicide?” Tim continued. “Must be a lonely kind of life being a hitman.” She flirted. “It can be.” Tim tried to answer her neutrally. “So you’re not seeing anyone?” She asked. “Oh my god. She’s hitting on you.” You laughed in Tim’s earpiece. “No, not at the moment.” Tim confessed. “You see the thing is the fee varies depending on the method, so I need you to tell me what you want.” Tim tried to press on, only the woman seemed interested in something else. "Ooh. What I want changed a little when you got in the car.” She flirted while putting her hand on Tim’s that rested on his knee. “Wait, is she touching you? She’s touching you, isn’t she?” You laughed again through his ear piece, enjoying this a little too much while Tim is a bit stumped but stays in character. “Look I am down to do whatever you want.” Tim said. “Yeah you are.” You chuckled softly in the ear piece. “I just want the business out of the way first.” Tim continued. “So it’s 20.000 for a straight murder, 25 if you want it to look like suicide.” “Sexy, I’d pay you twice that to kill the bastard.” She said while leaning in a bit. “And the bastard is?” Tim smiled. “My husband obviously.” The woman smirked. “Yes, got her.” You said in Tim’s earpiece. “You know once he’s dead, I’ll be a very wealthy woman.” She smiled. “You’re under arrest.” Tim said while holding up his badge. Finally you got her, so you called for backup on the scene so the woman could be taken to the station in a police car. Tim walked back over to you, you still being in the back of the van. “Well great job we got her.” You smiled as you took off your headset and let Tim in the van. “She really was thirsty, my god.” He said while closing the sliding door behind him and getting in to remove the blazer. You sat across from him secretly watching, hoping to get another glance at his toned chest. Tim lifted his shirt to remove the mic and handed it to you. 
“What is it?” He asked you, shit he caught you. “What- Nothing I- I just waited for you to hand me the mic!” You stammered out, a deep blush creeping on your skin and on the tips of your ears. “Really? You didn’t want a show?” Tim grinned, clearly amused by your embarrassment. “No I did not! What are you even talking about!” You scoffed now looking away from him, but still close enough for him to see your blushing features. “I saw you looking earlier, I don’t blame you.” He said looking you up and down. You were in your own clothes as you weren’t on patrol and you were wearing a white sundress with pretty blue flowers all over it. You looked down at your lap shyly. Then you felt Tim coming closer and he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “(Y/n) are you attracted to me?” He spoke softly, with his sultry voice. “What- no I wasn’t even- no I don’t- I don’t know... maybe?” You stuttered now your face was really burning, not only from the embarrassment that you were attracted to your superior officer but also from the touch of his fingers on your chin. “So you are.” Tim smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. You however still looked away from his piercing blue eyes, knowing that once you gave in, you couldn’t look away. “(Y/n) look at me.” Tim instructed, grasping your chin a bit harsher but not as to hurt you. You gave in and looked at him, at his handsome features, his stubble, his pretty eyes and his perfect hair. He was almost too much, and the smell of his delicious cologne wasn’t helping either. 
He looked directly in your eyes as well and leaned in closer, the tips of your nose touching, lips a breath apart. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and your breathing became heavier. After a moment he closed the gap between you and claimed your lips with his. His lips were even better than you could’ve ever imagined, soft and pillowy but slightly chapped as well, which for some reason made them even better. As you kissed him back you felt like your entire body was on fire, you moved your hands from his knees to his neck, holding on for dear life, feeling if you let go, you would lose him forever. He moved his right hand to your cheek while the other pulled you in his lap by your waist, now moving his right hand on your hips as well. The kiss got more heated and his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, you let his tongue in and met his with yours. At that moment you couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper between kisses. He softly groaned against your lips and his grip on your waist got tighter, he moved you to be right on his groin and gave your hips a squeeze as if asking you to start moving. And you did, you couldn’t not move, the moment was almost overwhelming as you started moving right on his hard on. Your underwear grew wet and you started moving feverishly against him, and then you moved right over his tip causing him to moan in your mouth. His hands moved from your hips to your ass and he started to move you harder against him, the movements alone could make you finish. The fabric of his jeans and the hardness of his erection hitting your clothed clit perfectly. But much to your disappointment he stopped you. 
“Sweetheart if you want me to finish already you should continue.” He smiled against your lips. “Let me make you feel even better first.” He whispered as you feel his hands moving from your ass to the inside of your thigh, slowly creeping towards your covered clit and moving his thumb over your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud gasp as he touched you, holding onto his biceps when he moved his fingers inside of your underwear. “Fuck you’re so wet for me. All because of me huh?” He murmured in your ear. He moved his fingers right over your clit, pressing a bit harder to see how you would react. You moaned at his touch. “Tim... please just- touch me, please.” You begged, already high off of his movements. “Maybe I won’t, maybe I like it when you beg for me.” He sighed against your ear, ever so slightly moving his middle finger over your clit. “Please just please touch me.” You continued to beg, needing any kind of release. “Please what sweetheart?” At his words you knew immediately what he wanted to hear, something that you realized he might have loved to hear you say for a long time. “Please touch me... sir.” You almost moaned in his ear. He groaned at this and started moving two fingers right over your wet clit. “Good girl, always knows how to address her superiors.” He breathed in your ear, you could feel him hardening under you even more. He then moved his two fingers inside you, your wet cunt almost sucking them in out of need. 
As he fingered you the sound of your wet pussy, your moans and pleas and his heavy breathing could be heard vividly in the otherwise quiet van. “Yes, yes, please sir, please I’m so close.” You moaned in his ear, begging for release. At your words he sped up his fingers, curling them up and hitting that perfect spot inside of you, finally giving you mercy and letting you cum. “Good girl, that’s it. You gonna come for me sweetheart? You gonna cum on my fingers?” He ranted in your ear as the walls inside you contracted while you came, trying to not scream for the whole world to hear. “Oh my god, please I need you inside me Tim.” You begged him, wanting nothing more than to be filled by his big cock. “I’m on birthcontrol so just please fuck me already.” You pleaded, moving your hand to pull down the zipper of his pants and reaching inside his boxers, giving his cock relief. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He groaned against you. You removed his dick out of his pants and moved your hips right above him, sliding your soaked underwear to the side so you could slowly sink down on his aching cock. You both moaned at the feeling and you almost immediately started moving after you grew accustomed to his big size. Holding on to his neck you began moving up and down the noise of his snapping hips on yours and your moans filling the van. He then moved the top of your dress down causing your braless breasts to spill out, which Tim decided to knead. After a few moments he moved that same hand to your ass, under your dress and smacked it hard.
“Oh fuck... oh fuck, you feel so good sweetheart, keep moving just like that.” He grunted, completely enthralled by the feeling of your tight pussy around his dick. “You feel so good sir, just- so- fucking- good.” You moaned as you started moving faster, feeling another orgasm approaching. Tim wanted to fuck you even harder and moved you to your seat so he could put your legs on his shoulders and fuck you deeper which had you screaming in seconds. “Fuck! Tim! Yes! Please, faster, harder please!” You screamed, holding your thighs against you chest so Tim could fuck you deeper. He did as you asked and moved faster and rougher against you, seeking his own high. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum for me?” Tim moaned, moving his thumb to your clit and rubbing it in sync with his movements which made you snap, an overwhelming orgasm overtook you as you moaned his name, walls contracting tightly around his cock. The tight feeling of your wet pussy around him caused him to cum as well, filling you completely with his seed as he moaned your name. After some seconds of calming down he moved to sit down next to you as you felt his cum dripping out of you
“Jesus Christ, we need to work together again huh.” Tim chuckled.
“Definitely” You sighed contently.
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Well christ that took longer than I thought but I hope you liked it, let me know what I should write next!
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cherrygirlfriend · 2 months ago
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bsf!rafe and reader miss each other
warnings: angst aka the one where rafe is in the doghouse. i wanted to try and write a bit of a dual-pov situation of the time after reader ended things, it's a bit experimental for me but i hope it's still enjoyable! this might be a bit melancholic but eh (also i baked two whole pies today let's go baker era i live alone idek what to do with em)
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when you were hooking up rafe, every moment without him felt empty. like he completed you. that was partially what made you continue on with him for so long; you were worried that if he wasn't in your life, you'd constantly walk around with this hole in your chest, like a part of you was missing.
but you found that after you ended things, he wasn't the only thing on your mind all the time. sure, you missed him, but what you missed wasn't the sex, or even the almost-romantic part of your relationship, but his friendship. you missed the boy you told all your secrets to, the one who'd been your shoulder to cry on for as long as you could remember. but a part of you wasn't completely sure if that boy even existed anymore.
you knew that the boy who'd passed notes with you all throughout your middle school and high school years wouldn't do what he did to you. or the boy who let you stay at his house whenever your parents argued, and stay up with you trying to comfort you.
when you had been involved with him, you never told anyone; when your friends asked you where you always disappeared off to, you said you were just 'meeting up with a guy' and none of them really cared enough to pry, and only after did it end did you realize how shallow most of your friendships felt. none of them even noticed when you'd shut yourself away, or the fact that you started to distance yourself from everyone.
except for one.
one friday evening, the doorbell rang and you forced yourself to go open the door, only for it to reveal vivian, someone who you'd pretty much known since kindergarten, holding up two bottles of wine. "i'm not gonna leave before you tell me what's wrong with you." she said, and even though you knew she'd probably judge you for everything that went down, you also knew you couldn't hold onto it all.
and so the two of you ended up laying on your bed, drinking straight out of the bottle, with you recounting the whole story to her, without vivian interrupting you even once. and even though it was only one person, it made all the difference in the world.
"jesus, what a dick!" was the only thing he said when you were done, the two of you bursting into laughter.
but as time went by, you slowly started to miss him less and less, and as the marks he had littered all around your body started to fade, so did your longing for him.
sometimes you'd see him when you were out; it was mostly at the country club, or whenever one of your friends had convinced you to come to a party, and to let loose. but whenever you saw him, you never said a word to each other, you never even smiled. but for a brief moment, as you stared at one another across the room, it was as if it was just the two of you, lying on the floor of his living room, surrounded by beer bottles and used plastic cups, remnants of yet another party.
but as soon as one of you looked away, the moment faded away, like you two had never known each other. it was like he was never your first love.
and before you knew it, summer had come to an end, it had been three months since the night you ended things with him, the sky above you turning grey as you sat on the dock in front of your house with your feet in the cold water, when your phone started ringing, and for the first time in three months...
incoming call... rafe
and as you wondered what to do, a raindrop fell over the green circle displayed on your phone, as if telling you what to do, and so you took your phone into your hand, chewing on your bottom lip as you were thinking of whether to accept or decline.
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to say that he wasn't good when it came to emotions and feelings would be an understatement when talking about rafe. most of the time the only thing he allowed himself to feel was anger, and so, when you walked out of the bathroom, the only thing he could do was stare at that locket, and even though he wanted to be angry, to start punching the bathroom sink until his hand broke, he couldn't. all he could do was stare at that damn locket, feeling like someone had punched all the air out of his lungs, like there just wasn't any anger left in him.
the day after you ended things with rafe, he broke up with sofia. for the next week the only thing he did was drink just to get the thoughts of you out of his head. for the week after that, all he did was think about you.
you needed your space, but he knew that every sunday you spent the afternoons playing tennis with one of your friends; so every sunday he'd drag his friends there on the premise of playing golf, just to get a glimpse of you; and unlike him, you looked fine, like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. he'd go out to any party he got wind of, just in case you showed up.
and whenever you noticed rafe's presence, when you looked straight at him, it was like the emptiness that had been in his chest since that night was slowly going away, like it was that night when you slept in his arms when he whispered "i love you." into your ear, hoping to god that you wouldn't hear, and now, the only thing he wished was for you to hear it even though he couldn't say it. but whenever you looked away from him, that emptiness came back.
rafe rarely drew anymore, not since he started working with his father, but now he found himself sketching images he had carved into his memory, ones of you sleeping in his bed, his sheets pulled up to cover your chest while your hair covered a good part of your face, ones with that look on your face when your face was flushed from alcohol when you were trying your hardest to find the words you were looking for when you were chattering about something you were passionate about.
and the next three months went in a cycle of drinking or throwing himself into the family business to forget about you, or finally giving in and thinking about you with that locket held in his large hand, and whenever he saw you, the more alright you seemed, and he kept wondering if that'd ever happen to him.
he was sitting in the office that formerly belonged to his father, his jaw clenched as he stared at your contact image, a picture of you petting a stray cat that lived around the island, obsessing over your contact something he'd been doing a lot lately, as if daring himself to call you. but before he could, he'd dropped his phone down onto the desk, rubbing his palms over his face with a deep sigh, telling himself to just focus on his work.
but rafe was drawn out of his thoughts of a familiar ringing, of one telling you that you were calling someone. and when he pulled his hands away from his eyes, they landed on his phone calling a familiar number.
and before he could hang up and pretend it never happened, the call was connected, and a soft voice on the other side simply said,
"rafe?"
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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago
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𝐀 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you love your boyfriend really you do, but you also love cats…and a little kitten managed to steal your attention away from you very clingy lando..
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: no warnings just fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: this was self indulgent, i just wanted fluff and idk i feel so shitty and nasty about myself and i needed fluffy lando goodness
Off season was in full swing which meant you and Lando were back in London together for a few weeks before you took off on your travel adventures. It was nice to have some quality time with your favourite boy in the world, and the first thing on your list was groceries.
Lando as usual let you do the shopping as he dotted on you, his hand in yours, on your waist or wrapped around you as you reached for your favourite cereal
“Lan you really aren’t being much help..”
“Mhm I am.”
“So you wrapping yourself around me like a koala is helping?”
He smiled into your neck, leaving a few kisses to your collarbone
“Exactly”
“Can you at least put your arms to use and grab our cereal before you continue to squeeze me into pieces?”
You shook your head, your voice teasing as he unwrapped himself from you, reaching up and grabbing two boxes before dropping them in the kart. Letting you continue your way down the aisle, Lando of course attached back to you as you checked off your list and made your way up to check out.
Once everything was payed for and bagged you made your way to the car, putting everything in trunk of Lando’s range rover, not without a few kisses to your cheek and of course a very Lando like squeeze to your butt.
“There, now we can stop ordering take out”
“I like our takeout nights..”
Turning to see the pout on your boyfriends face you smiled, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned up to kiss him
“I know but now we have fresh and healthy things so I can get back to cooking…we can still have takeout on Friday’s how about that?”
Lando thought about it before nodding
“Deal, I love you”
“I love y-kitten!!”
Your arms quickly dropped making the british driver frown, moving to walk slowly towards the little grey kitten just perched next to the car beside you. It’s little eyes watching you carefully as you kneeled down
“Oh hi my love…come here it’s okay..”
The kitten moved towards you at the sound of your voice, of course keeping it soft as to not scare it away
“Hi little one”
Lando watched with a frown as you scooped up the little cat, clearly feeling a little pouty that you ditched him for the cat
“Lan look at it! It’s so small and cute!!”
“No way.”
You looked at him, your puppy dog eyes coming into effect
“Absolutely not angel, no WAY”
“But-but Lan look at him, we can’t just leave him here he’s so little!”
Lando was close to breaking, even you could see it.
“Baby we are always away, we don’t have time for a cat…”
He was right to some degree, but you were often home more than him, and worst case you could find a sitter for the cat. Your brain had begun to find a solution for every possible problem Lando could come to with.
“Please…oh lan please we-I can’t leave him here..I promise i’ll make sure I take the best care of him…”
Lando would admit the grey fluff ball was cute, and that look you had on your face was pretty sweet too, how could he say no to you, especially when you looked so happy
“Alright fine”
“Thank you thank you thank you baby!!!”
Cradling the kitten in your arms you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, his arms wrapping around you as he held onto you tightly
“Next thing you know I’ll be the crazy cat dad like Max”
“Max has two cats love..”
“He’s still crazy..”
Shaking your head at Lando’s dramatics you kissed him once more before walking towards your car, your new little family member happy in your arms, sound asleep. A kitten distraction is what Lando would call it, but if you’re happy, he’s happy, even if he’s starting to realize he needs to share your attention.
And he’s just not sure he’s ready to do that…
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ace-turned-confused · 6 months ago
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planted in your garden | joel miller x f!reader
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joel masterlist | read on ao3
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summary: joel has always shown his love for you through flowers, and now it's your turn to do the same word count: 1k warnings: 18+ only, reader has tattoos & is shorter than joel, joel being soft & lovey-dovey & just the best in general, bit of spiciness at the end a/n: written for @morallyinept's Fauna & Flora Challenge ❤️ not beta’d or any of that jazz, please enjoy :)
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If there’s one thing you know about Joel Miller, it’s that he will always find a reason to buy you flowers, no need for a special occasion. It’s been a long hard week and I wanted to get you something, saw these pretty flowers and thought of my pretty girl, got them just because I love you. Whether it’s an entire bouquet or just a few wild stems tied together by a ribbon, you’re sure he’s given you more flowers than you’ve received in your entire life.
It started on your birthday — you told him you hadn’t planned anything because you didn’t want a big fuss and it wasn’t a number worth celebrating, and he insisted on bringing you dinner so you wouldn’t have to spend the evening on your own. Every number is worth celebrating, it means you’ve been around another whole year. You were floored when he showed up on your doorstep, pizza boxes in one hand and a bunch of red and pink tulips in the other.
“Saw the ink on your arm there and just assumed they were your favourite. None of the stores ever have anything fresh or pretty enough, so I just cut these from my back garden.”
Joel Miller. Cut red and pink tulips for you. From his own garden.
You’d only known each other a few weeks at that stage, and he’d been more observant in that short time than any other man you’d met. At first, you didn’t read into it too much, he’s just doing something nice for you. You told yourself it didn’t matter that this ‘something nice’ was the single nicest thing anyone ever did for you.
You ate your takeout pizzas and talked for hours that night, record player on in the background, sharing stories of years gone by and remembering the person you each used to be. A few stray tears even slipped down your cheek at one point — Joel moved to sit close next to and almost on instinct you rested your head on his shoulder. It was oddly comforting knowing just how vulnerable you could be around him. He was a kind soul, a rather rare find in today’s world, and you found it surprisingly easy to open up to him.
You asked him for a hug that night and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head and it was the safest you felt in years. Of course, and next time you don’t have to ask. You smiled into him, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He eventually pulled back to check on you and planted a hand on your waist; he bid you goodnight with a wink, called you sweetheart and went home, leaving you standing like an idiot, mouth hanging open in a daze and still feeling the heat that had radiated off his palm and the grip of his fingers through your shirt on your skin.
‘Sweetheart’ played in your mind over and over for hours, days, weeks after that — soon enough you acknowledged that you weren’t immune to his charms and you’ve never looked back.
The flowers aren’t only for you to enjoy — you noticed early on that Joel takes great pride in his garden. The lawn always mowed, flower beds always with manicured edges, bees and butterflies in abundance. You’ve spent many hours lounging in the sun just admiring him, your book long abandoned — temples and greying curls damp with sweat, t-shirt clinging to his arms and back, gym shorts showing him off deliciously, all while he potters around tending to his garden, refilling a bird bath, touching up the fence and spewing out endless plant facts.
He even expanded the bed of tulips, planting bulbs of different varieties and an array of colours — ones with frilly edges, ones with pointed petals, and even blooms that look almost hand-painted in their beauty. He told you he’d been planning this for months, long before he met you, but you knew that part of him was doing this for you, too.
Late one night he finally told you the red and pink of your birthday flowers represented eternal love and affection, and sheepishly admitted he only remembered that once he’d already knocked on your door. He had hoped you wouldn’t ask him the meanings that night and figured there must’ve been someone looking out for him when you simply accepted them with a dazzling smile and that twinkle in your eyes. He wonders how things might have played out differently if you had asked him that night.
Now it’s Joel’s birthday and you want to do something special for him — so here you are, lying underneath him in a matching set, simple and white and covered in daisies. Propped up by his elbows, he traces over a flower right in the centre of your bra.
“You gonna tell me anything about them?”
“Daisies supposedly represent innocence and purity…” His voice fades off as he trails his fingers featherlight across you, goosebumps rising in his wake. With a faint smile pulling at his lips, he lifts his gaze to look you in the eye. “But something tells me you already knew that.”
He leans to kiss you, tongue licking into your mouth and you feel him pressed against your core, thick and heavy. You spread your legs wider to accommodate him and he grinds his hips into you, your fingers raking through his hair and tugging ever so slightly. He pulls back and starts snaking a hand down between you, now taken by the same applique daisies on your panties.
“Not sure those words apply right now, though,” he whispers to you, knuckles grazing the fabric.
“What, ‘innocence and purity’? You don’t think that’s true about daisies?”
“I ain’t talkin’ bout the daisies, sweetheart.” He smirks at you and you simply grin at him and huff a laugh in response as he shuffles down your body to pull your panties down your legs.
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comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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mirrology · 7 months ago
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I wanted to request Platonic Boothill and child reader!
After finding out about what happened to Boothill’s daughter wanted to request him finding child reading and taking them in as his own kid and caring for them, taking them to little events or fairs 😭
FEEL SO BAD FOR BOOTHILL ☹️ HE LOST HIS HOME, HIS DAUGHTER AND HIS BODY 😭 IM BALLING MY EYES OUT
— Wunderkind .ᐟ ʚɞ
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୨୧ Wunderkind: (noun) a wonder child or child prodigy
Ft. Boothill, gender-neutral reader, platonic. wc: 972
Content: child reader, reader is a sort of 'prize' for an unknown person, the first scene is inspired by mizisua meeting but its platonic, got a little lazy so the rest is headcanons, reader gets surprise adopted, boothill is the best dad ever, he spoils the reader, they both go to fairs and parks often. / a strange man took you in when you were at your lowest. You never knew that you would be at your highest when with him. slight angst but then fluff
Notes: thank you for the request!! i tried my best to incorporate everything that you mentioned. boothill's backstory is so sad and it truly made by tear up, also the IPC sucks.
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Fate hadn't been kind to you, you don't remember how you ended up being a so-called prize for a person you barely knew. You don't remember your parent's face nor remember if you even had any. They dressed you up in the fanciest clothes, ones laced with ruffles and the softest cloth, made sure your hair was always neat and tidy. Yet they never actually cared for you, they only wished to show you off as a trophy as they called you.
When out of all the eyes that watched you, they treated you roughly. Grabbing your head and pushing you down to the ground when you didn't meet their expectations, gripping every inch of your arms and leaving blooming bruises in their wake. All while showing you off to everyone in their premise.
You stared blankly at the street, watching people walk by and cars pass. You sat down in an alley way, leaning against the wall of a shop, just, waiting. You had escaped from that manor, from that wretched place. Although you had no hope that you would be free, sooner or later they would find you and bring you back all to restart that agonizing cycle. Just the thought made you squeamish, it made you disgusted.
Your eyes drooped as you looked at people living normal lives, you oh so desperately wished from someone to take you away from this world. As you were lost in your thoughts a pair of boots stopped in front of you, you snapped out of your daydreaming and slowly tilted your head up. Your eyes met with grey ones, you stared blankly at the man in front of you. He had white and black hair, the two colors clashing like yin and yang, it was pretty. He... looked concerned? The man crouched down on one knee to be at your level, you watched him as he did, not once did you take your eyes off of him.
"Hey, uh, ya' okay, kid?" he questioned, his tone was soft and barely above a whisper as if you would run away at the slightest noise. You blinked in surprise, you hadn't expected to be asked such a thing. Your eyes darted somewhere else that wasn't his face, did he want to help you? You considered saying that you didn't want help, but what would that mean for you?
You would be stuck living a life full of emptiness, unfulfilled by your wrongful choice. You looked back at him. He was still there, patiently awaiting your response. "I'm..." You momentarily stopped, your throat felt dry, you swallowed. "I'm lost and... alone, " you squeaked out. Although this wasn't the entire truth, yet it wasn't a complete lie either.
"Hm.." He hummed as his eyebrows furrowed, a conflicted expression on his face. He then perked up or rather tensed. He noticed a bruise, one which is black and dark purple at the moment, looks like a darker spot beneath your sleeve. He slowly reached out towards your arm, and he looked back at you. "May i?" He asked, his robotic fingertips gracing the edge of your long sleeve. Your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded. You suppose that this man really does want to help you.
He gently grasped your smaller hand in his, it was cold and stiff. Yet it didn't feel like theirs, this one was careful, considerate. The cool material felt nice against your sweaty palms.
The bruise spread from halfway up your arm down to almost your wrist, a deep purple-black bruise that stood out from the lighter colors of your clothes. It looks like it was recently made and very painful. The man looked stunned, as if this wasn't a normal occurrence. Well, you guess it wasn't for anyone else other than you. "Yer gonna need medical care, bud." He swiftly picked you up in his arms, holding you softly as if you would break in an instant.
You jumped slightly; you weren't used to being picked up nor touched in a way that wasn't aggressive for that matter. He led your arms to wrap around his neck, "Hold on, bud." He grinned at you, showing off his shark-like teeth. You stared in awe at your savior, being helped felt... nice. No one had ever been at your Beck and call, only ever "helped" when they wanted.
Tears sprung up into your eyes. You closed them tightly, not wanting to be seen in such a vulnerable state. "Thank you..." You whispered as you burried you head into the junction of his neck. He smiled and stroked the back of your head.
"Uhm.." You hummed out "What's your name mister?" Your head turned to look at him as your cheek was pressed against his shoulder blade. "Boothill, don't forget it." He chuckled and started walking to the nearest hospital.
You nodded, taking his words into account.
You wouldn't forget your savior.
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Boothill is the best dad confirmed, he gets you whatever you want, whether it be food, toys, clothes or accessories. He gets it for you.
He's always patting your head or ruffling your hair; you don't mind thought. It's actually very comforting.
CONSTANTLY tells dad jokes and it makes it funnier when he tries cursing but it gets covered up by his synthesia beacon.
The both of you go out often to parks to play. He definitely pushes you on the swings, and helping you go as high as you can. And when he sees your big smile as you reach the bar, he knows he did a good job.
He brought you penacony once (when he was actually let in) and you had the time of your life.
It was very bright but new and exciting.
You got to eat new things that you've never seen before, such as cotton candy
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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months ago
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✨Birthday Blues✨
Jackson! Joel Miller x bartender fem! reader
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A/N: This is a little one-shot I did for @justagalwhowrites Joel Miller’s birthday celebration writing challenge! I had so much fun with this one and love it so much. I hope you enjoy! This one is all in Joel’s POV 🩵
Summary: Joel spends his birthday sulking on the porch, regretting the mistakes of his past. Just when he thinks he’ll spend his birthday alone, you come around and turn his cloudy skies into sunshine.
Rating: 18+ only
Word Count: 3.6k
Tags: Lots of angst, Joel’s POV, Jackson! Joel, losing Ellie, regrets, no use y/n, fluff, yearning, angst/comfort, lots of feelings, Joel’s birthday, age gap (Joel is 54, reader is 30)
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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  The wooden rocking chair creaks like a rundown, abandoned building, making the old floorboards of the porch groan beneath him with every shaky breath he takes. The acoustic guitar feels like a heavy anchor in his arms as he thinks about those long afternoons when he’d teach Ellie how to play songs of his past. Now, it feels like sawdust under his calloused fingertips. Brittle and old. Just like he is.
   September twenty-sixth. The day he can’t fucking stand anymore. The day he was brought into this unapologetic world, not realizing he’d lose himself along the way.
   Birthdays were supposed to be spent with loved ones. A celebration of life. But what does he have to celebrate anymore? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He doesn’t have anyone anymore. He’s just… alone. 
   Sarah is gone, dead. And Ellie… she wasn’t coming back. Not to his house, his doorstep. No. She’d just stay away like the plague. 
   Fifty-four-years-old. Just one step closer to being six feet underground. He wishes he was already dead because that’s how he feels. Hollow, broken, lonely. 
   God, he’s so fucking lonely. Ever since Ellie found out about the fireflies. About what he did…
   She hates his guts, hates the way he lied straight to her face for months, hates the reason he did it. She thinks he’s selfish and feels like she was used. But really, he only looks at it one way. 
   He saved her… And he’d do it a thousand times over if he had the choice. To lose another daughter. Well… he just couldn’t. So, he did the selfish thing and got her out of that hospital. Because if he lost her, he’d surely lose himself.
   But he already lost her. Lost himself, too. So why does any of this even matter? It’s useless. He’s useless. 
   He strums along to the melancholy tune, the frail strings sliding along calloused skin, echoing the quiet melody back into the cool autumn breeze of Jackson. Maybe Ellie would hear it, come running back with tears staining her hazel eyes, apologize for moving out and screaming at him to stay away. But she was the one that stayed away. He never wanted to…
   He just strums along and keeps playing. The song that he had written just for her. A song she probably hears in her nightmares now. Maybe it’d bring her back…
   He gets lost in the music, greying curls tousled by the wind, his green flannel clinging to his flexed biceps, broken military watch glistening in the dying orange sky. Just when he starts to get drowned out by the screaming voices in his head, a soft, lilty voice pulls him from the darkness.
   “Hey.”
   His head snaps up and his calloused fingers still from the sudden intrusion. When he sees who it is, he freezes in place. His jaw locked, eyes wide, teeth clenched together. It’s you. The pretty bartender who caught his eye the moment he stepped into Tipsy Bison that first he arrived in Jackson.
   There you are. Hair blowing gently in the brisk breeze, doe eyes locked on his, a half-smile curled against your glossy red lips. Jesus. You’re even more beautiful with the orange sun shining down on you, casting halos over the crown of your head. 
   You’re absolutely breathtaking.
   “Haven’t seen you around Tipsy Bison lately. Was wondering where you’ve been.” You look at him intently, questions spiraling in those pretty shades of moonlit eyes. 
   “Been a little busy, I guess,” he mumbles, keeping his fingers locked tight around the neck of the guitar. 
   “Got your whiskey waiting for you behind the bar. Been saving it just for you,” you smile sweetly, nearly making him drop to his knees at the sight.
   “Thanks, darlin’. You don’t gotta do that, though. Might as well jus’ give it to someone else,” he sighs, eyes dropping to his denim-clad lap. It’s been a while since he went and drowned his sorrows at the bar. He’d rather just do it in the comfort of his own home. A home that was empty now except for him.
   “You okay?” you ask, voice leery as your eyebrows thread together in worry. 
   “’m fine,” he states lowly, eyes hollow and weathered from the pain he wears like weights under his eyes day after day. He’s not fine. He’s far from fine. 
   When’s the last time someone asked if he was fine? He can’t even remember.
   “You don’t sound fine. You look… sad.” Your voice is quiet, subdued, and your eyes look like clouded skies with hurricanes and thunderstorms brewing ominously. You look just as sad as he feels. 
   You’re so empathetic and tuned into other people’s feelings. He wishes you’d stop that. Stop looking at him like he deserves to not feel like that. But again, It’s hard to look away when a beautiful girl who’s kind, caring, and all around good is standing right in front of him, asking him if he’s alright.
   “Reckon I am sad,” he finally mutters, eyes cast down to the fading paint of the wooden boards on the porch. But then he looks up again, and there you are. Beautiful eyes swallowing him whole.
   “You want to talk about it?” You lean against the stairwell on the porch, eyes boring into his, arms crossed over your soft blue jacket.
   He shakes his head and sighs. “Darlin’, I really don’t think you wanna sit here and listen to an old man talk ‘bout how he’s feelin’.”
   You shift your weight and flex your jaw, like he just punched you right in the gut. Fuck. He’s already ruining everything, but what you say next surprises him. “I’ve got time.”
   He stares at you a moment, feeling like he just got struck by lightning. You want to stay and listen? You’ve got time?
   “Why don’t you take a seat then? I don’t wanna bore you with my problems. And God forbid I waste more of your time,” he murmurs.
   You shuffle your way up the steps and sit slowly into the wooden rocking chair next to him. The one he crafted by hand. “Like I said, I’ve got time. I’m listening.” You smile softly at him, and he can’t help but to memorize the outline of your pretty face. Your deep dimples that appear whenever you’re grinning, your light freckles scattered across your nose. The ones you get from sitting out in the sun for too long. You always did love the sunlight. That’s something he picked up on quickly.
   He’s watched you for so long from a distance. Only really saying hi if he was stopping by the Tipsy Bison for a drink, maybe waving at you when you walked past him on the street, the casual back and forth glances the two of you would exchange every once in a while. 
   He’s shy, reserved, an introverted man that likes his space. But he’d have no problem sharing his space with you. Especially when you wear that flowery lavender scent that magnetizes him to you.
   After a moment of comfortable silence, he huffs out a heavy breath and begins. “Look, I’m not the best at talkin’. Especially ‘bout how I’m feelin’. But let’s make this short ‘n sweet. I know you got better places to be.”
   You lean back into the slant of the chair and rest your arm on the smooth armrest, smiling over at him with your sweet demeanor. “I don’t have anywhere to be, Joel. So take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 
   He sets his guitar down and leans it against the edge of the porch, carefully scooting back into the worn chair. His thumb taps nervously against the armrest, but you just stay quiet and keep your eyes on him. It helps him breathe a little easier, he thinks. 
   Taking his time chewing over the words, he finally spills them. “I’ve made some stupid mistakes in the past that I can’t fix. No matter what I do, nothin’ is gonna change what happened.”
   You knit your eyebrows together like you’re mulling it over, guessing what he could be talking about. The way you bite your bottom lip and flick your eyes between the open mailbox that says Miller’s and back his way says you do know. “Are you talking about Ellie?” you ask hesitantly.
   “How did you know…”
   You shrug and push a piece of fallen hair behind the slope of your ear. He wishes he could be the one doing that. “This town is small, Joel. I notice things. It’s not a secret Ellie moved in with Dina.”
   He sighs deeply and pushes his fingers back through his slick hair, letting the tousled curls fall back into place. “Guess gossip gets ‘round fast here. Shit.” He lets his head hang low, cursing under his breath when he thinks about the way Ellie stormed off that day. She said she never wanted to speak to him again, and it hurt just as much as Sarah’s death.
   Your voice jolts him out of those dark thoughts. “Have you talked to her lately?”
   He clenches his jaw and shakes his head defeatedly, tears lining the back of his eyes as pain radiates down his spine. “It’s been over two months. She can’t even stand to look me in the eyes. Fuckin’ hates me, and it’s all my fault.”
   And there you go again. Looking at him like a lost puppy with those big doe eyes of yours. You make him so soft. Nobody else can do that. Not since Tess.
   “I don’t think she hates you.” 
   You place your dainty hand on the back of his for a few seconds. Warmth shoots through his skin, races down his bloodstream, nearly chokes him up when you retrieve it and place it back in your lap. In just those few seconds, he felt what it would be like if you were his. But that couldn’t happen. You’re far too young for him, a twenty-four year age gap, fresh out of your twenties. Just now thirty. You’re too pretty, too out of his league, too good. 
   You’re just too good for him. He’d never deserve a woman like you. Not after everything he’s done. 
   I don’t think she hates you. The words permeate and sizzle deep in his brain.
   “No? Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that jus’ ain’t the case,�� he scoffs, kicking the heel of his worn boot into the porch to get his point across. 
   You twist your fingers together nervously and look up at him, sparkling eyes shining like starlight. “You know she asks about you, right?”
   His mouth gawks open, and he stares wonderstruck at you. “What?” He can’t believe his ears. “She… asks ‘bout me?”
   A faint smile lifts over your red lips. “Yeah. She sometimes comes up to me at the bar and asks if you’ve been in recently or if I’ve talked to you lately. She wonders about you, Joel.”
   His mouth feels like sandpaper, throat dry and closed up. Maybe the dry air will suffocate him before he gets his hopes up. “Why would she do that…”
   You shrug and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. And it’s not my business to ask, but I don’t think she’ll stay away forever, Joel. No matter what you did or how bad you think it is, she’ll come around. I know she will.”
   His grip tightens against the armrest, nails digging like claws into the rustic wood. “I dunno. She really stuck it to me to leave her alone. Don’t think she wants me ‘round anymore. S’why I stayed away. She’ll never forgive me…” His voice is strained, sad, choked up like he forgot how to breathe. He wishes she’d forgive him. Just one word from her. That’s all he wants.
   “Give her time, Joel. I know she will,” you say encouragingly as the wind laces through your silky hair, blowing it just enough for him to see the pretty blush painting your cheeks pink.
   You’re so fucking beautiful.
   His deep bravado voice drops an octave as he looks up through glassy eyes at the sunshine of a woman sitting before him. “How do you know?” he asks quietly.
   You just shrug and smile. “I just know, okay?”
   “Mmm.” Sitting back in his rocking chair, he thinks and thinks over your encouraging words, analyzing them like tiny jigsaw pieces. A puzzle that just can’t be put together. You never were the type to linger on sadness. Never seemed to let a rainy day cloud your joy. You were always so carefree, always bringing rainbows after destructive thunderstorms. Always just there.
   Slowly, steadily, your fingers curl around his dark green flannel, hooking underneath his bicep. And your eyes, like a warm summer’s day, shine brighter than he’s ever seen them shine before. Just like shimmering sparkles under a starlit sky. Embers and all. “Hope is like a migrating butterfly. It spreads its long wings and takes off in the morning sky. The butterfly may not return to the same place for quite some time, but it always seems to come back to the place it came from. Eventually, it returns home. She’ll come back, Joel. Ellie will come home.”
   His eyes cloud over, foggy from the tears building in his dark brown irises. And when one slips free and slides down his cheek, falling like a raindrop and landing on top of your hand, you don’t pull away. You stay. No one else had stayed. But here you are, smiling up at him like he’s the center of your gravity. Like he’s worth something to you. 
   And then something happens. Something he hasn’t done in so long. He smiles. He smiles at the pretty girl that turned his entire birthday upside down. He smiles because you stayed when no one else did.
   You stayed.
   “Think you jus’ might’ve struck some hope inside me after that speech, darlin’,” he drawls, brown eyes sparkling into yours.
   “Glad I could be of service,” you giggle, your hand brushing over the fabric of his soft flannel. And there you go. Giving him that breathtaking smile. He wishes you’d never leave.
   “Look at you. Ruinin’ my plans of sulkin’ for the rest of the evenin’.”
   You tilt your head and give him that look. A look like you want to drown out all his sorrows. “Why are you sulking in the first place?”
   Sighing loudly, he rakes a hand slowly down his patchy beard and stares out into the void of the green and yellow leaves littering the ground. “‘Cause it’s my birthday. And I got nothin’ to celebrate.”
   You sit forward in your seat, drawing your hand back to your lap and staring all wide-eyed at him like you just can’t believe he’d be alone. “It’s your birthday?”
   “Mhm,” he hums, feeling the excruciating pain of losing Ellie all over again. 
   “What are you doing spending it alone, then?” you whisper, heartbreaking eyes tearing his soul in two.
   He pushes a hand painfully slow through his windblown curls and takes a deep breath as he thinks of that stupid fight he and Tommy got in. “Me and Tommy had a fight the other day. Reckon he doesn't wanna see me for a few more days after that. Maria’s on Tommy’s side. And Ellie… well. You know. Needless to say, I got no one to celebrate with.”
   Silence permeates through the cool air, a deafening noise that rings through his ears. He wishes you’d say something, anything. Break the lull that hangs like a thick, impenetrable wall in the sky. Maybe you too are having second thoughts of being here alone with him in his suffering.
   “Can you just… wait here for a few minutes?” you ask, pushing yourself up and hanging over the thresholds of his rickety porch.
   He takes a minute to digest your words, thinking you won’t come back. “I suppose. Not goin’ anywhere. Why?” he asks hesitantly, his voice hoarse from the thought of you disappearing too.
   “Just wait here. There’s something I forgot,” you plea, your pretty smile telling him you’ll be back.
   Before you take a step off the porch, he stops you. “You don’t have to, you know. Come back, I mean.”
   You give him a small smile, your hair blowing softly in the wind, tangling around your beautiful face. An angel cast in shadows from the purple and pink painted sunlit skies. “Nobody deserves to be alone on their birthday, Joel. Not even you,” you say in a soft, lilty voice. 
   You hang there a second, just watching each other. Waiting for something, but he doesn’t know what. And eventually, you take that step off the porch. “Be right back! Just wait here,” you shout, running off into the sunset.
   “Alright,” he whispers, watching you go. And then you disappear down the street, practically sprinting back to your house or back to the bar. He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he hopes you come back. 
   Please, come back. 
   He fidgets in his chair, trying his best not to pull out the greys from his tousled curls. His chest feels tight, like his button-up shirt is stifling the chilly air all around him. He feels choked up, like something is lodged deep in his throat. Feels like he drank too much whiskey, palms sweating against his jeans. 
   Lord knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t act like this means anything. But what if it does? What if this is everything he’s waited for? He shouldn’t yearn for you, shouldn’t pine mindlessly for the pretty bartender that’s way too young for him to be falling for. But he fell head over heels the first moment you said hi to him in the bar. Your smooth fingertips brushing against his when you passed him a glass of whiskey. It felt like fire smothering his insides, igniting dangerous feelings that he should’ve never developed in the first place. 
   He shouldn’t have fallen for you, but he did. And now, he was wrecked. 
   You come walking back just minutes later, your hands behind your back, something hidden behind your jacket. And when you make your way back up to the porch, you hold out a single muffin with a blue birthday candle placed right in the center.
   “What’s this?” he asks, eyes wide as you place it in the palm of his hand.
   “A blueberry muffin. I just made them this morning. I hope you like blueberries. It’s not much, but it was made with love and care. So here, something sweet that I hope will brighten up your day.” 
   He stares in awe at the fluffy muffin, blueberries scattered around the pastry. His eyes mist over, tears licking at the edges, threatening to spill at any moment. He’s not used to this kind of treatment. Someone being nice, thoughtful, acting like he’s special. 
   He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.
   “Th—thank you…” he chokes out, holding back tears.
   “Happy birthday, Joel,” you smile, lighting the candle and making shadows cast over his palm from the flame. “Make a wish.”
   “Think it already came true…” he whispers. 
   Your eyes meet, tension thick in the air, smiles bouncing off each other's mouths. And when he blows out the flame, you give him a quick, fleeting kiss to the cheek. A kiss that’ll surely never wash off his skin. It’ll stick like permanent ink until his mouth hangs over yours.
   “You’re a sweet little thing, ain’t ya?” he asks, his skin tinged red from the blush you’ve painted over his tanned skin. 
   “Sweeter than a shaker of sugar?” you giggle out. A laugh that sounds like music to his ears.
   “Sweeter than sugar, darlin’,” he confirms with a wide grin.
   His hand finds yours, lacing his fingers through until your warmth is mixing with his. And as the sun goes down, stars igniting the sky in glitter, you lean your head on his shoulder while you tell him stories of your past. He could listen to you all night. He thinks he could listen to you forever. 
   You stay there until midnight, fingers entwined together, his hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, memorizing your perfect smile and dazzling eyes. And just before you go, he pulls you in for a kiss. A kiss that could make the entire world stop. Because in that moment, on your soft lips, he thinks he found heaven. 
   Just as you turn to go, a figure emerges from the dark shadows, leaving him breathless and dumbstruck from the sight. He rubs his eyes, figuring he’s seeing things. Maybe the sleepless nights have finally got to him. But your encouraging smile says it’s real.
   “Joel, look. She came back,” you smile, eyes glossy just like his are now. 
   She hesitates out in the road, jaw locked and eyes watery. Those big hazel eyes haven’t changed a bit. 
   Ellie. She came back. She’s here…
   And just like a butterfly, she spreads her wings and waves, mouthing happy birthday as she lingers by the open mailbox. But that’s enough. That’s one step to fixing a promise he broke. 
   “Ellie,” he calls, voice cracking as tears drop down his face. 
   “Joel,” she nods, giving him a half-smile. “Can I… can I come in?” she asks hesitantly.
   “‘Course you can, kiddo.”
   And it’s then, right at that moment, where everything fell back into place. Right when she stepped back into his life. He has a feeling you had something to do with it, but he’ll thank you for that later. Maybe tomorrow when he stops by your house and asks for some more blueberry muffins. 
   Today will go down in history as one of his favorites because he got the girl, and Ellie came back home. He got his birthday wish after all. 
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nyashykyunnie · 5 months ago
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˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Healing ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
・┆✦ Entry : 034 ✦ ┆・
[ TW: Depictions of Body Dysmorphia, Internal Misogyny, Fluff Ending ]
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Can you send a message to pretty little princess hiding in your heart? Tell her that her knight in shining armor is here ] ¡! ❞
For a long time, you've hated the idea of being a girl. In desperation to fit in with everyone else, you purposely acted like a tomboy. Pushing away those barbie dolls, mocking the idea of liking make-up, being disgusted with the other girls hating to get dirty.
All of that for the sake of fitting in, all of that for the hope that maybe if you become cool enough in everyone's eyes by not acting like a girl— You would find acceptance and validation from everyone around you.
But now, now who's laughing?
You're a grown woman now, and yet you cant even apply lip gloss or any make-up. Your clothes? Shabby long sleeves and hoodies, shirts that make you feel bloated and icky.
Your own body makes you so uncomfortable that even looking at your own face in the mirror makes you gag. The sight of your eyes, tho round cheeks, those awful dry lips— It made so sick in the stomach you purposely avoid mirrors as if they're going to kill you.
Despite how terrible you felt about yourself, despite how much you hated mirrors— You somehow capture Jinwoo's heart.
That perfect, perfect boy.
A clean shaven face, fluffy hair that always misbehaves but makes him more charming, a small smile that feels like it's lighting up the whole world— Yes. That perfect Jinwoo is your boyfriend.
And despite him not giving any hints nor saying anything, he knew of your self-destructive habits because of your appearance. Truthfully, there's nothing wrong with you, you've always been perfect. But even if JInwoo told you that— The only replies he gets are nervous chuckles and fidgeting.
He really didn't know how to help you at first, he wasn't a girl.
Ah, but he has a sister.
So he approached Jinah regarding you. She was perplexed by her brother's confusing statements since Jinwoo is so unsure of what to say. So instead, Jinah suggested he observed you more than he normally does.
And observe he does.
Jinwoo would often peek on your phone, not that he's worried that you'll be cheating since he's always around you even if he's not there.
He noticed a lot of things, your pins often involved dresses, your favourites had various pictures of make-up and other pretty things. It intrigued him, after all, you never shown interest in girly things outwardly.
Once Jinwoo had done enough watching, he knew the problem right away and how he could solve.
So, on one faithful day on your date in a mall— Jinwoo purposely passed by a shop that had similar dresses he saw on your phone.
Your gaze would wander absentmindedly towards the displayed frilly dress that had strawberry patterns on it's graceful fabric.
Bingo.
"Pretty colour, don't you think?" Jinwoo asks out of nowhere, leaning down a little towards you.
"H-huh?" You sputter, realizing wha you have been doing. "Well... It's fine I guess"
"Come on" Jinwoo gently tugs at your hand, guiding you to the store. "Let's see if there's a size for you."
"Hey!" You squeak, grabbing his arm to try and stop him. "I-I don't wear dresses! It won't look good!"
"It will," Jinwoo gently smiles, flicking your forehead. "I wanna see you in a dress, so come with me, yeah?"
You reluctantly sigh in defeat, letting Jinwoo drag you into the store. The man was quick to move about and get the dress, pushing it in your hands and then directing you to fitting room. Jinwoo waited patiently, until he saw your little head peek from the curtain of the dressing room.
"Come out, baby" He coaxes softly, as if he were talking to a little child hesitant to show themselves.
And when you do, Jinwoo felt his breath hitch. His mouth would slightly hang open, his grey eyes complete still as it gazes upon your beautiful figure adorn in that pink strawberry dress. The way it so gracefully lands on your curves, eloquent and meek. The flowy freels making you look like you best belong in a fairytale book.
Jinwoo felt like he just fell in love all over again.
"I-I knew it, it looks stupid!" You cry out, immediately shutting the curtain but Jinwoo sprang up to his feet and prevented you from hiding away.
"Hey, hey, sarang" Jinwoo chuckles, "You look pretty, I just couldn't talk for a moment hahah..."
"But..."
"Sarang, can you look at me?" Jinwoo cooes softly and you hesitantly meet his gaze. "See that girl in my eyes?"
"She's the prettiest princess I've ever seen"
His words make you shy, like it always did. Somehow, Jinwoo had a knack for making you shrink into feeling like a giddy little girl in her birthday.
"So, will the princess please spoil me by wearing more pretty dresses?" Jinwoo asks, his eyebrow cocking up a little as he leans down. "Hm?"
"Okay— ???!!!"
You couldn't even finish talking as Jinwoo shoved atleas tten dresses into your arms.
The rest of the time? Jinwoo swears he almost died with every dress he puts on. His heart was bleeding a river at this point. You're such a pretty girl. How come you've never tried such clothing?
Jinwoo could tell that you absolutely enjoyed it, the way you were hopping around, spinning a little to watch the fabrics float and twirl along your movement— The look on your face proves that you have been dying to feel this way in forever.
He adores that smile of yours, more than anything else in the world. If you look this happy in such clothing, he can only imagine what you must have gone through to not have the courage to wear pretty things until today.
In the end, Jinwoo bought at least 15 dresses off of his wallet and the idiot seemed to be even more happier than you do.
Just as you thought Jinwoo would be done for today— The man decided to drag you into dior where at this point you wanted to cry.
"Nah-ah~" Jinwoo hums, continuing to guide you inside.
He scanned through the lipstick sampling area before picking up a single shade, holding it up to your lips.
"Come now," He says gently, and you obeyed.
With a mouth slightly hanging open, Jinwoo started applying the lipstick with intense focus. His stare was boring into you, it was as if Jinwoo is currently doing something extremely important.
After a few more seconds, Jinwoo swipes his thumb under your bottom lip.
"Look," Jinwoo turns you around, showing you your the lipstick he had applied on you. The color was magnificent, suiting your sweet features and making you appear dolled up even by just a little. "This colour looks so good on you, sarang."
"Why?..." You ask, pursing your lips. "You keep..."
"Spoiling you?" Jinwoo finishes your words for you, his voice growing a bit quieter. "I know it's rude, but I snooped around in your phone and found that you are very fond of pretty things. Not that I minded your current appearance, of course not. But I can't help but notice that you somehow feel like an imposter in your own body. So what am I to do as your boyfriend? I help you come out of your shell."
"My pretty little thing, if you want something, tell me" Jinwoo kisses the side of your head affectionately. "Didn't I tell you? I'll always help you whenever you need me, just say the word and I'll do it"
"If you want to be a princess, then I'll help you become one. So wont you tell that shy little girl in your heart to come out and play with her knight in shining armour?"
You didn't answer, but that was more than enough for Jinwoo to confirm what he needs to. So he picked a few more colours of the lipstick he knew would look good on you. He'll start out slow with buying cosmetics since he doesn't know much. Maybe he should ask Jinah once he's home.
After succesfully purchasing the lipsticks, he gently intertwines your fingers as he guides you out of the store.
"Why don't you say we test these out at home?" Jinwoo muses. "I wanna see how well they'll stain"
Oh that devious smile on his stupidly handsome face, you knew at that moment Jinwoo was planning to probably kiss you until he cant breathe.
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꒰ A/N: I'm struggling to embrace my own feminine side, despite my age I don't know how to wear makeup nor do I wear pretty things. I still have a very bad case of body dysmorphia, so I made this fic to heal me and maybe even allow me to be a bit more confident. I hope you guys don't mind this very selfish fic</33 ꒱
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧・゚: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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achrams · 3 months ago
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𝐑𝐪-𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞.
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On your nightly walk you run into a stranger, who befriending seems a lot more beneficial that previously thought.
𝐂𝐰: Vampires, blood, biting and obviously some good dry humping.
Being a huge fan of all things mythical had always been a part of your life. The idea of living in a world full of creatures that were better and stronger, probably more attractive too, though that just might be your humble opinion, it all filled you with excitement. That fascination had transferred over to your later stages in life, given how often you had hoped to catch one of those creatures of the night. Any would do, you just wanted proof that you were right. That this world had more to offer than plain grey days mashed into one dull blob.
Though despite your biggest efforts nothing seemed to work, nothing  at all. You’ve practically tried everything you know! If you look past the fact that all the information you held had come from reddit of all places, but that's beside the point. What mattered is you didn’t give up. Not an ounce of determination was left unused. Every single day the routine progressed until you didn’t even realise it had become a part of your life.
---
The days had turned to months and those into years. The hope was not lost but it was faltering ever so gradually, the countless tries had formed smaller and smaller acts. If before you went out of your way to really create contraptions or play chemist in your kitchen, then now you murmured a few sentences from a ‘spellbook’ before bed. It wasn’t much but it was something, because you still had some hope. Even if it was little and fragile.
On a fortunate evening, you had decided to take a stroll around the park that surrounded your lousy flat. A sanctuary between the tall rubbled buildings. You didn’t know what urge had pulled you into the crisp nightly air but you decided not to worry your head over it, no need to start overthinking. ‘My body just needs some fresh air..’ That's good enough of a reason for you.
Taking the first step outside was nice and relaxing after having to escape the rotten to the core hallways and clunky elevators of your building. It was a nice reminder that even in a place like this, there was a chance at some peace. A deep breath in, you closed your eyes for a moment. Savouring the gentle breeze and fresh air that rejuvenated your tired body.
The stars looked back at you when you opened your eyes despite liking the use of your other senses. “This is nice… every night should glow like this..” The words had left your lips without any further thought. Seems your heart let the love you held for the night out without seeking permission from your brain. It was a pretty sight were it not covered by clouds or light pollution most of the time.
A crack was heard and you snapped your head behind you. Eyes squinted from the darkness but also to show the concern that threatened to paint the canvas of your face. ‘There's no one here. Calm down.’ You thought to yourself as you took small steps backwards, keeping your eyes in the direction of the suspicious sound. ‘Just in case.’ That’s what you told yourself as the silence you once found peaceful now turned into something more of a lingering tension.
“Ookay, one step at a time..we are good..we are okay. I am totally not being creeped out-!” Your inner thoughts had turned to a monologue, between yourself and this ‘totally not there’ being in a bush, somewhere in the middle of your descending steps. Another step backwards and a plethora of emotions filled your core. Fear, surprise and then relief on top. All because a cat decided to jump out of the bush you had your eyes locked onto.
“Oh thank god..” The words breathed out into the chilly night as you rested your hand on your heart for a moment. You knew for certain that you weren’t insane now, it had just been a cat! Nothing to worry about. Stretching yourself up straight from this odd half hunched position, you turned around to actually go on this walk of yours, instead of fighting with cats that probably wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction.
As soon as you turned around you got a face full of something hard. “Ow!” Rubbing your hand against your forehead from the impact. A few groans left you before you managed to apologise to whoever you had turned into.
“Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going.” You spoke as you finally opened your eyes to be met with a guy. Not just any guy, a guy whom you have never seen before in your building or anywhere near this outhouse of an area. It was surprising to say the least. Meeting up with a complete stranger in the middle of the night. Totally not suspicious.
“Ah, it's alright. You seemed distracted enough, I should have said something.” You shrugged back at the apology being granted to you. A little sheepishly, letting go of your head to try and get a better look at this mystery man in this low lighting. ‘An accent. Interesting.’
“Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before.” The words were friendly enough despite the eerie way everything had been playing out thus far.
A moment of silence filled the air, sadly the awkward kind. ‘Nevermind..probably not the best idea to try and make friends at midnight-’ Your inner debate about continuing this conversation was interrupted. “Julien. Nice to meet you.”
Taking his held out hand, you shake it as a sign of respect while Julien continues speaking. “I’m visiting family here. Never seen this area before..quite uncanny of a place.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the description. It fits this place a little too well.
“Yeahh, this is what happens when you work just to get by.” A shrug left you as you sigh, stepping by him as you bury your hands into your jacket. “Hope you find this place at least somewhat pleasing.”
One or two steps past Julien and the guy had seemed to scramble from his spot to walk next to you, awfully happy as he kept looking around and sniffing the air a little. To make the walk a little less awkward you coughed and asked, “Sooo, special day?” to which Julien looked at you confused.
“I mean, you said you were here for family and you look happy…?” A noise of understanding left Julien as he nodded and vibrantly began explaining how some family lived nearby and they were planning to get a whole party set up for a feast of sorts. ‘Foreigner things probably.’ You weren’t one to judge so you nodded and listened.
---
The walk went relatively well, it was honestly quite odd how well the two of you got along and so fast too. Almost like this was fate, if you believed in such a thing. Soon enough you considered Julien a friend, going on midnight walks one too many times to count while he was in the area, but it’s not like you minded. It was nice, Julien was nice.
He had a nice smile that always seemed to shine with every joke you did and his hair, oh his hair, the way it moved when he nodded along when you spoke. Last but not least of all his eyes, they seemed to speak more than Julien himself. So playful and warm with the way he looked at you, making you feel less alone in this city you had to call home. 
Though there always seemed to be a hidden glint in his eyes. When you spoke, seemingly distracted with making the stories more interesting with dramatic hand movements, Julien looked at you. No, he didn’t look, he admired. Took in every detail of your being from top to bottom. You noticed it. Julien wasn’t as slick with his hungry glances and licks of his lips than he thought. You felt his eyes on you more than you’d seen him look at the pathway you two were walking on.
One night, however. you had a lot of fun and out of the blue turned to him after having gained the courage to ask, “Do you want to come over?” Julien looked back at you for a good moment before smiling back at you with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. “I thought you’d never ask!” That was all you needed to hear to know that Julien wasn’t some stranger who’d leave you behind after his time here.
No clue where the need and courage came from, especially after registering in your mind that Julien seemed to be eating you up with his eyes every time you two were together. Perhaps you had the urge to hopefully prolong this friendship. It was nice to have a friend when all you knew were creepy elders that probably saw things that weren’t there.
---
With a smile you opened your front door and stepped in, holding the door open with a simple, “Come on in, make yourself at home.” The slight anticipation and worry on Julien’s face faded and he walked in. Muttering a small ‘thank you’ as he walked past you and now that you saw him in actual light, he looked even more ethereal than before.
Guiding him in you showed hospitality by offering drinks, foods, snacks, anything to welcome him but his eyes seemed to be glued onto the odd contraptions around your house. Refusing everything you offered with a smile. Your house gave off a rather interesting and floral vibe, but it seemed out of place for this dry block of a city. Embarrassment flushed your face as you stood before Julien, preventing him from eyeing everything so attentively, then looking down at him so he wouldn’t be inclined to stand up from the couch to take a closer look.
“Uhm, those are nothing, don't mind them!” You chuckled awkwardly, yet he seemed to tilt his head to the side to keep taking glances before Julien mumbled through a hearty laugh. “Are you trying to lure something into your home?” His face held an odd smile, like he knew something. You seemed to be too caught up in your embarrassment to notice that Julien seemed proud.
You averted your gaze to save yourself from the embarrassment of having to explain that from a young age you’ve been into mythicals and have been trying to catch one. With a sigh you sat down next to Julien on your couch and started speaking. Hoping to get this out the way so it wouldn't be brought up again. “You know those childhood stories of werewolves and vampires?” One look in Julien’s way and he was already nodding his head along with a small knowing smile. “So, basically I am convinced they’re actually real…and I might have been trying to see one. By…trying to catch one..”
The sigh you let out was deafening and so was the silence that followed, lingering and looming over the room. A chuckle brought your gaze back up to meet with Julien’s, effectively having broken your insecurity filled thoughts. “No luck then?” You had to laugh along at the absurdity of this confession. “No luck.” You let out an airy chuckle while shaking your head. “ Honestly I’m starting to doubt they were real in the first place.”
Julien seems to hum for a moment, his eyes lingering on you for a bit too long. Turning to properly face him, you give a slight brow raise and Julien smiles. “What if I tell you they are real?” His smirk widens and he seems more and more proud. Smug about something you can’t wrap your head around.
Instead of your confusion subsiding it actually increases. A lot. “You don’t have to lie to me to make childhood me happy.” Dismissing what you had heard. You didn’t need pity for something you had decided to not believe in as of 3 minutes ago.
“I’m not lying.” Julien pushes on and moves closer to you on the couch, trying to see when you would catch on. “They are real.” The scoff that left your lips couldn’t be helped. Looking away with a grumble, you had missed the frown that have made it’s way onto Julien’s face.
“Trust me..” Julien whispers oddly close to you now. You hadn’t even noticed the moment he had leaned over to practically kiss all the way up your neck. With a shiver you turn your head to try and look at Julien. Confused why he’s so adamant on having you believe this fantasy.
Within seconds you feel his lips on your neck, pushing you to lie down on the couch while he straddles you. “You see, I am one of these creatures.” Julien continues, his thighs holding you down on the couch while his hot breath fans your skin. “And my god do you smell divine. You probably taste godly too..”
No time was left for you to voice your scepticism and confusion about how you had ended up in this position. Pinned under Julien.  Because as soon as you wanted to say something, to ease the doubt behind your eyes, Julien had pressed his sharp fangs against your skin. Piercing through it with a satisfying rip only you could hear. ‘They are real. What the fuck!?’ That was your initial reaction before it began morphing.
‘Fuuck..’ your second thought was accompanied a sharp breath in, very well, so well in fact that it gave off the idea you had liked it. Which you, surprise surprise, did like. You had never expected to meet a guy, have him be a vampire, become friends, invite him over and then have him feast on you. Pressing your eyes shut as you came to terms with the tingly and slightly burning sensations that came along with being a blood bag for a vampire. 
To Julien’s surprise you didn’t push him off at all, just lying below him. Taking this. All pinned for him. He could hear your heavy breaths and the way your hands had moved to hold his shoulders. Hands tightening around his shoulders when it had become slightly painful, drawing out a low breath of pure delight. A groan if you will.
With slight hesitancy Julien pulled his teeth out from your skin, lapping the treasured bite clean to both save precious blood and to ensure you didn’t stain anything. Then he looked down at your flushed face with a twinge of amusement. His eyes travelled down to where he was straddling you. Your eyes still pressed shut as you’re more concerned with calming your erratic breathing even though you could feel Julien’s eyes travel down your heaving body.
Julien licked his fangs clean and shifted in his place, drawing out another groan from you. “Someone seems to have liked being fed on.” His words smug as he looks down at you, letting his fingers leave feather-like touches against your neck. The bite he had left there. It sent a thrilling sensation through his body. Seeing how you withered and shivered below him. A perfect guy to snack on.
“You’re mighty hard against me.” The words are more teasing than the last, purposefully grinding his hips against your hard on to prove a point. With a whimper you finally opened your eyes, staring at him with mild embarrassment. “Shut up-”
Your bratty protest was easily silenced by a meticulously constructed grind against you. “Shit- mmh..okay fine it..sort of felt good when you did that.” A fang bearing smile made its way onto Julien’s face. He ran his hand up your torso to play with his bite mark again. “That's rather cute. Getting all hard for me from a bite.” 
Julien leaned down to look into your eyes, holding onto your chin to keep you looking at him. The blush and slightly pouty look on you tugged at Julien’s heartstrings. “How bout this..” he proposed, his words sly and clearly in his favour. “You let me drink some more and as a reward I'll help you out with your problem.”
It didn’t take more than a second of consideration from you, because as soon as the words ahad left Julien's mouth you were already nodding. Begging with your actions to keep this going. You didn’t know why, but it felt so good. So good to have Julien feed off you. Not only did you have proof that these creatures were real. You had one right here on top of you. Only an idiot would let such a perfect opportunity go to waste. Aand you happened to be a self proclaimed genius.
A lick up the other side of your neck earned a shiver alongside a small groan. You could feel how Julien smiled against your skin. It was clear that he was enjoying this a lot more than he let on. You were certainly going to put that information to good use. Feeling how his fangs grazed along the delicate skin of a human, you let your hands sneak their way to Julien’s sides while he was distracted.
With a smirk you held him down against you and bucked your hips up. The sudden action made Julien’s fangs enter your system with a small yelp from him. Having Julien connected to you, sucking out your delicious blood, gave you a perfect recipe for satisfaction. 
Keeping him down atop you, you grind your hips up against him. Feeling the way both friction from your movements and the pressure from your jeans add to your straining dick, it was enough to draw out some breaths and shudders here and there. Though the star of the show was Julien and his fangs that were lodged right into you.
Julien in return had pressed his head against you harder, trying to get as much blood from you as he could. Hands holding your shoulders while he sucked on your neck. As a bonus it seems like your grinding had started to affect him and with small pants against your neck Julien began grinding his hips down against your dick. A perfect melody of pleasure and pain. It was wonderful.
Feeling how both of your straining hard ons pressed against one another. The friction from thrusts into nothing and pressure from trying to stimulate your erections made both of you needy. Feeling how your dick twitched in the limiting confines of your pants urged you to keep going. To satisfy yourself like promised by Julien.
Your already breathy and whiny mouth let out a louder whine from the loss of fangs in your neck. Julien was becoming sloppy, too pleasured out of his mind to continue feeding on you. Truth be told he didn’t need to anymore but you just tasted heavenly to him, so an extra snack later on wouldn’t hurt, yeah?
The sight of your neck stained red with iron, flushed face and parted lips added to Julien’s need for release. He pressed himself down harder and faster, desperately grinding against you with renowned determination. You followed along with just as eager moves against Julien as he moved against you. Hands gripping onto Julien’s hips as you murmur, “Pleasepleaseplease- Mmh!”
Feeling the pit in your stomach tighten, grow warm with every mutual thrust against one another. Pants and frantic bucks driving home the pleasure that threatened to consume. Julien moved down to finally lick your dripping neck clean, the sensation of his wet tongue adding to the immense pleasure of a nearing orgasm.
To your surprise however, it seemed that the licked up blood didn’t make it to Julien’s system, but instead was consumed by you. His lips pressing against yours as he forced you to taste yourself. The metallic liquid coating both of your mouths. It was a sudden chance and one that gave the final push.
With a groan into the kiss and a relatively more forceful thrust against Julien, you came with a shudder, feeling how Julien had done the exact same. Shuddering and panting against each other. Body convulsing against the couch as you come down from your high. Julien sat up straight, letting go of the kiss in a sensual way with his lips begging to stay connected to yours. To have your taste a little longer.
Julien breathed heavily on top of you, enjoying the sight of a satisfied human and being a satisfied vampire himself. Both of you letting out heavy whines and pants as blotches of sticky and wet residue slowly seep through both of your pants. It was a little pathetic. At least both of you came, right?
“You taste godly, and I bet you would feel even more exquisite.” Julien panted the words out as he watched you shudder when he touched your softening dick. “Unfortunately, I'm more than full for now.” 
Feeling how your chin was made to face Julien, you forced your eyes open and he smiled back at you. That same damned sweet smile. “I'll be back for a taste soon enough, make sure you rejuvenate yourself.” A quick cheeky kiss was pressed against your lips before Julien got off you. Swiftly moving to the closest exit, which happened to be a window, and leaving through that.
Your unfocused eyes only caught a glimpse of his figure turning to shadows as he disappeared into the night after murmuring something of a ‘Good vampire summoner’.
You were too hazed out of your mind to properly make sense of everything. Panting and overwhelmed, still coming down from your climax. ‘How the fuck did I get myself into this mess?’ You murmur to yourself as you finally let the activities of your day and now vampire filled night take over. Closing your eyes to get some rest and then maybe…hopefully think about this with a clear head tomorrow.
‘...shit.’ You couldn’t fall asleep at all. All you could think about was how it felt to have Julien sink his teeth into you and lap up your blood. Yeah…you better go and take care of your needy erection before you accidently manage to summon an incubus.
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felassan · 11 days ago
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Polygon article.
Rest of post under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.
“I’ll say one of the greatest challenges of this game, but also one of the most enjoyable things, was, How do the Dalish react when their gods are out in the world and rampaging?” creative director John Epler told Polygon. It seems that across the board every Dalish elf in the game pretty much rejects their risen gods now that they’ve shown their true hand. Two of Rook’s companions, elven historian Bellara Lutare and Grey Warden Davrin, come from Dalish clans themselves and even though they’re a little shaken about confronting their gods, they’re not conflicted about doing so. In fact, among Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain’s lackeys and puppets, there’s not a single elf to be found. Epler said that it’s vindication for the Dalish — which is nice to see considering how they’ve been portrayed in past games. “Dragon Age has not always been the kindest to the Dalish,” he said. “Somebody once made a joke to me, and it’s not untrue, that it’s possible to wipe out a Dalish clan in all three of the games in some way.” In Origins, siding with the werewolves in the Brecilian Forest quest leads to the clan being destroyed. In Dragon Age 2, if you defend your companion Merrill’s blood magic usage, her clan attacks you and must be killed. And in Dragon Age: Inquisition, if you’re playing as an elven Inquisitor, you can accidentally kill your clan by picking the wrong options in the War Table mission. It’s not easy being a Dalish elf in Thedas. Still, though, why haven’t any Dalish elves decided to join forces with their gods? As Epler put it, the gods simply don’t care about them. They’re looking for followers in other places. Even though the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition’s Trespasser DLC revealed that Solas had amassed a network of elven agents, they weren’t going to be swayed. “Solas’ agents were never there for power,” Epler said. “They were there for a sense of identity and a purpose. And I would say that it’s fair that Fen’Harel probably bent the truth to them when he was doing his recruiting pitch — the part where he says ‘I’m going to destroy the world’ at the end of Trespasser [was] not what he was telling them.” Solas’ agents are almost jarringly absent from The Veilguard, with barely any mention of how far and wide they spread in the years prior to the game. But they do have very good reason for not being the ones joining up with the gods. “Those blighted, decrepit gods, they’re not bothering with the soft pitch,” Epler explained. “Their pitch is, We’re going to make a horrible world. We’re going to give you a lot of power, and maybe you’ll be OK.” On a more meta note, the Dalish just needed an in-game win. It’s refreshing that Bellara and Davrin get to honor their culture and also not be ostracized from it and possibly forced to kill their clan, as was the case with Merrill in Dragon Age 2. And instead of being accidentally (or purposely!) killed off by the player character, the Dalish elves in The Veilguard get to righteously rally against the mages that they once called gods and reclaim part of their history. “I love that the Dalish in this game, by and large, are saying, No, we were lied to. We were the first victims of these gods. We’re going to fight back,” Epler said. “And they really get a sense to kind of rise up in this game and start establishing themselves in this way that in the future I can’t wait to go back to, but in this game gives them a sense of a win. They get a victory in how they respond to the threat of the gods in this game.”
[source]
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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago
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i’m sure i’ve said this before but my favourite personal headcanon is that bakugou kisses the insides of your wrists.
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it’s the first thing he does every morning, brushing his lips over the softness of your skin— your warm hand delicately laying in his and he only stills once he feels your slow and steady pulse against the seams of his mouth.
he’ll let out a short exhale, eyes closed in relief and squeeze your hand tight. you always wake up shortly after, your fingers cascading through his mussed up morning hair and a smile as bright as the rising sun twitching up on your sleepy face. “good morning, lover boy,” you’ll say, voice gravelly but full of adoration.
you’re alive, katsuki thinks, you’re alive and you’re okay. “mornin’, beautiful,” he’ll whisper back and lean into your touch— his mismatched red and grey eyes falling to your chest to check the way that it rises and falls. “y’sleep good?”
the sheets shift as you move to sit up, holding balugou’s face between your hands as if you’re holding the entire world. “good. you had a nightmare though,” you press your forehead against his, concern flickering in your eyes. katsuki has seen both sides of life and death— he knows that if he’s not careful, he won’t be able to evade it any longer than he has. he knows that he’d be leaving you behind with the pieces of his mistakes and he can’t do that to you.
but sometimes it’s you who’s died in his dreams and not him. sometimes it’s him cradling your lifeless body, it’s your pulse that’s fading out and thready. it scares bakugou shitless. to know that he could lose you as easily as he’s lost himself in the past.
bakugou closes his eyes to ground himself, listens out for your steady breathing intertwining with his own — kissing your wrist again just to make sure that your heart is still strong and beating.
“it was nothin’, don’t worry your pretty head about it, sweetness.”
he doesn’t see you frown, but can feel your gaze on him. “it’s not nothing, katsuki. you were screaming my name in your sleep. you were scared.” you sit up this time, taking sharp edges of his face into your cushioned palms, the edges of your features softening out from frustration to worry as he looks up at you. “you don’t have to hide things from me when you’re scared.”
you sense when his breathing turns shaky and katsuki’s anxiety takes the reins on him — so you wrap your arms around his bulkier frame and pull his head to rest on your chest. “i get nightmares where i lose you,” he explains quietly. “‘m scared that one day i’ll just wake up ‘n you’ll be gone.”
you don’t like to think of katsuki bakugou’s death. you can’t imagine what thinking of yours would do to him.
“i’m right here,” you say barely above a whisper. “i’m alive, i’m breathing. i’m not going anywhere without you.”
with his ear pressed to your body, katsuki can hear the dull thump of your heart against your chest wall. it’s steady, rhythmic, like horse hooves on cobblestone. you’re alive and you’re strong. he needs to give you more credit, he thinks, tucking himself into you even more to hide from the world.
but you don’t let him, taking his large hand in yours and bringing his wrist up to your lips to feel his life essence pulse just beneath them.
“and you’re right here too.”
the gesture is so small and intimate, but it shows that you understand bakugou on levels that nobody else does. you love him, you live for him — in moments like this when the sun has just made its way into the sky and right down to the first star that twinkles at night.
bakugou shifts to brush his nose against yours, humming.
“and ‘m never goin’ anywhere without you, either.”
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queenie-official · 1 year ago
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‘Grey sweatpants’ Modern!Anakin
main masterlist
pairing: Modern!Anakin x reader
a/n: saw this clip and knew i needed to write for modern Ani about it🤭 a bit of childhood friends to lovers for you 💋
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growing up with Anakin gave you a lot of opportunities then most people got with there crushes. for instance where most had to wait till they where comfortable in order to be seen a certain way by their partners and vice versa, you had the privilege of maybe being overally comfortable with him.
i mean it didn’t mean anything, you were childhood friends after all- except it did mean everything. at least to you anyway.
you’re the one with the crush on him, Anakin was completely oblivious to this fact. you were sure if he had even an inkling that you liked him he would change how he acted with you, not big things but the small things that were more important to you. like the nicknames he used, and the way you’d cuddle when you were having a bad day- obviously to others that looked like something more but this was a completely normal thing for you and Ani.
So was dressing in whatever was most comfortable. For Anakin that just so happened to be shirtless with a pair of grey sweats…
god, you would think you’d be used to it by now. this wasn’t even close to the first time he’d worn this and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. or maybe it would if you couldn’t control yourself, i mean you were practically drooling over him.
As per usual Anakin was completely unaware, focused on a personal project he refused to tell you about. you sat on his bed watching him contently, eyes tracing over the way his back muscles moved with each shift of his arm. counting the freckles and resisting the urge to walk behind him and kiss each one.
letting out a longing sigh at that thought which unfortunately drew Anakin’s attention to you, turning to face you with a raised brow. “what was that for?” he asks while looking over your face trying his best to read what was wrong, which usually came pretty easy to him.
“what was what for?” you ask feigning ignorance as you shift so that you’re now laying on your stomach, playing with the edge of his blanket as you speak.
your question makes him role his eyes, standing up so that he could walk over to you. big mistake on his end. your eyes immediately fell down to his waistline, trailing over his happy trail that led straight down into his sweats.
your imagination running wild as you looked him over, feeling your throat run dry before you forced yourself to look back up at him.
Meeting his eyes with a blush hoping he hadn’t noticed you checking him out. The greyish blue you normally saw was swallowed by his dilated pupils… oh he definitely saw you. your whole body flushed maybe this was a sign that him finding out you liked him wouldn’t be the end of the world.
he places his hands on the footboard leaning over it slightly. the muscles in his arm flexing as he grips it, looming over you from where you laid. feeling your heart beat race from his simple actions.
“what’s going on with you lately?” he asks but the question seems empty, like he already knows the answer but just wants to hear you say it.
you feel frozen in place, internally debating wether to just tell him or come up with a excuse.
have you been acting differently? you thought for sure you where doing a good job at hiding your feelings- then again Anakin always was good at reading you, years of friendship only aiding his abilities.
“Nothing, im fine…” you answer, moving so that you were sitting up. feeling like you were on more common ground with him no longer towering over you as much.
of course he didn’t believe that, he knew you. he licks his lips as he stares down into your eyes.
usually you’d at the very least still have a basic idea as to what he was thinking but the look he was giving you wasn’t one he’d ever used before. it gave you chills, made your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. oh… made your.. that’s what that look was.
“it’s seriously nothing Ani” you try again, not wanting to admit your thoughts. mostly out of embarrassment now than out of fear of rejection.
Anakin scoffs looking off to the side, his brows now furrowed slightly in thought. you could see when something clicked in his mind.
what, you weren’t sure but as he stood up straight and walked over to his bedroom door to close it you had a feeling you where about to find out.
he locked it before turning back towards you, arms crossed against his bare chest. abs on full display, his sweats hanging deliciously on his waists.
you where doing it again, staring. snapping out of it, you force yourself to look back up once more. you startle slightly seeing him staring at you with a devilish smirk on his face.
“fine, i guess i’ll just have to pull those thoughts out of you myself” his voices is a few octaves lower then his usual deep gravely tone, making your stomach twirl…
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okay 🙈i hope you guys like this- you can just use your imagination for how the rest of this goes ✨ Anyway i have so many drafts atm that i need to finish so can’t wait to share that with you guys. Love you all Xx<3
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doromoni · 7 months ago
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Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1
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Act 2 . Part 4 : A Driver’s Stratagem
Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader
Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance
Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Dark Characters, Forced Drug Use , Swearing
A/N : This one took so much revisions , I swear, I put more effort and dedication into this than my Uni papers.
Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious
< Previous Masterlist Next >
Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The air hummed with adrenaline and the roaring sounds of engines filled the entire circuit— as the smell of synthetic oil wafted each corner of the grid.
It was finally Sunday — it was race day. It was the day to see how truly monstrous your dynamic with the Dutch Red Bull Driver was. It was the day to make Mercedes rue the days they’d taken you for granted.
It was time to make sure that Max Verstappen would become a World Champion.
Red Bull’s garage buzzed with the sound of drills and chatters of mechanics as they set up spare parts for the cars. Everything was like clockwork, every action smooth and practiced.
It was an hour till the cars were brought out to the grid, with Max’s car placed in first— right on pole. You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Toto’s face, red from anger. You could still hear his deranged shouts and banging on unsuspecting headsets on tables.
With final checks on the pit wall; ensuring that whatever happens you’ll never be cut from Max’s radio. The memory of Mercedes‘ betrayal had made you paranoid, even when no one from RB had shown shown anything sketchy.
Nevertheless, it was still your first race with Max, anything and anyone can change anytime. You wouldn’t make the same mistake of trusting anyone that easily.
So engrossed with your thoughts and triple checking on the data on your station, that you didn’t realize Max’s presence behind you
“Well hello there pretty engineer “ And suddenly, you were engulfed by strong arms from behind. Max’s lips briefly met your own as you looked over your shoulder and up at the racer.
You both knew that you were supposed to be keeping things lowkey, however Max couldn’t care less when there were no cameras around — He didn’t care if cameras were present or not but out of respect for you, he kept the PDA to a minimum. You were his girlfriend and he needs everyone to know and back off, whenever he can.
“Hi, babe! I was just about to go see you. I just need to finish checking your stats” you explained to your boyfriend as you proceeded to point out something on your screen. You found the extra hundredths of the second in the track and began to fully explain every detail to the Dutch driver.
“I love it when you get all nerdy with me, Schat. “ Max suddenly interjected, a fond smile on his face as he gazed down at you.
Your cheeks grew redder by the second. A shy smile on your lips as your eyes avoided Max's eyes. You were used to people rolling their eyes at your intellect at Mercedes. Now with Max openly admiring you… you didn’t know how to respond.
“ Are you getting shy with me, Schat? How adorable can you be” Max laughed as he let go of your waist from behind, then held your cheeks together and looked directly at your steadily growing red face.
“Shut up! Don’t make me throw your race, Max Verstappen” You bluffed with the Red Bull driver a loving smile on your face, smacking your hand to his arms.
“Whatever happened to keep work and our personal lives separate? Huh, Schat?” You rolled your eyes to your cheeky boyfriend’s sass.
Oh boy, how you were starting to fall deeper for the Dutch Driver.
“Well I’m not the one who can’t keep my hands to myself in the office , now am I?” You sassed back.
“Well my girlfriend is hot and smart, how could I resist?” You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s audacity.
“ you’re unbelievable! Aren’t you supposed to be resting and getting inside your driver's room? “ You asked as you spun your chair fully towards Max, him now in between your legs.
“I know, but I wanted to see you first. How are you feeling, Y/N? You ready for the race?” Your heart melted as Max took your hand in his and squeezed it for comfort.
“ I should be the one asking you that, Max.” You cooed at him as tears glazed your eyes. He was the one fighting for the championship and risking his life on track — yet he was concerned over you.
“ I’m ready. Thank you for trusting me as your engineer. Let’s give them hell” You grinned towards the Champion contender of Red Bull.
Max couldn’t help but capture your lips in his at the sight of you. He only dreamed of you looking at him like this. The look you once gave to Lewis Hamilton. The look of love and devotion. Now it was aimed at him.
However, unknown to the both of you a person clad in a black team uniform had been recording the entire encounter.
***
The hour flew by fast, and it was now time to race in the pinnacle of motorsport.
Max was strapped down in his car, helmet on and visor down — your voice in his ear ready to command. Max had zeroed in, all attention was ahead of him and nothing else.
While you were in your element, the Red Bull headset firmed on your head. As your co-engineers continue to exchange data amongst the team.
“ 1 minute to start Max” you echoed the time on your screen.
“Copy, Y/N. Let’s give them hell” Max’s voice held assurance. He was not just saying it. He was promising it.
“30 seconds, Max. Keep safe out there yeah? 10 seconds”
“5 seconds”
As the lights go out, Crofty delivers his famous lines. The race had begun and in the blink of an eye — 20 race cars had flown past the pit walls that held all race engineers and team principals.
As the green flag was waved the 1st lap of the 56-lap race began.
Max and Lewis showed no mercy to each other, already butting heads from the very start. Max was shoved out of the track by Hamilton. Lewis held the lead with Max not far in his tail.
“Max, keep it steady. We are going for strat 2” you calmly echoed towards the driver. You knew Max was pissed, but you had a plan for this.
“Copy, Y/N. Strat 2 is good” Max had replied.
The race had gone on with Lewis still in the lead. You knew that your old team was cherishing every second of it.
Yet you had everything pat down and you just needed to trust the data and Max’s ability to deliver. And that trust had solidified at lap 26, Max had been once again in the lead with fresher tires.
The race was starting to finish, it was the 2nd to the last lap. Hamilton was just 1.94 seconds behind Verstappen.
Your eyes darted towards the drivers on the grid, Max was fast approaching Mick’s lapped Haas. The Haas car looked like it was not going to move anytime soon.
And you were right as Max had complained on the radio.
“Michael should move out of the way.” At Max’s input — you’ve already sent the memo to Haas.
As Mick’s car gave way, Max zoomed past with Lewis right behind the Red Bull car— hopefully trying to gain p1.
Yet as the chequered flag had approached, Max had kept everything calm and cool — and in the blink of an eye, Max had crossed the finish line.
Cheers erupted from all corners of Red Bull. A huge grin on your face as Christian Horner shook your shoulder from the side.
Max had won! You were successful in leading him to victory. The relief washed over you like water on a blistering hot day. The motor world had seen you succeed outside of Mercedes — your talent didn’t just rely on Lewis.
Y/N L/N had led another driver towards victory. And you had proved that this was not a fluke or by chance.
Not when, Max had won the next race in Mexico. This time Max had won from 3rd place in the grid. And with 15 seconds to spare from Lewis.
“Max Verstappen! You’ve won Mexico! My goodness, and with a 15-second lead. You’re incredible! “ You praised your boyfriend openly astonished at his raw talent.
“Simply Lovely, Y//N! Wow! Your strategy was flawless, Thank you for that! From p3 to p1! Thank you everyone” Max’s voice echoed out of your earphones.
As you celebrated Max’s win on the podium —You were then informed that you were to be interviewed by Sky Sports right after. You had asked who was hosting. And the name of your ex-driver was said. Nico Rosberg.
You never thought of the possibility of talking to Nico again. Not after everything in Mercedes, not when your once close relationship with the German driver had been torn to pieces.
You admit that you had made mistakes, huge ones, both of you did. But you cannot deny that you missed him.
You were starting to get nervous and you had started to overthink, but your attention was drawn back towards Max.
He looked majestic up on that podium. It looked almost natural that he was on top.
The Dutch national anthem played, and you found his eyes on you. Your heart had skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but smile. A calming sensation drew over you. Negative thoughts left your mind as Max had overridden each one.
And to the surprise of the world, in front of live television, all cameras panned on him.
His lips echoed the words
“I Love You, Y/N ” his eyes still locked in yours.
Your surprise was an understatement, but your entire being felt like you were floating. You felt so much joy - you felt so much love. You felt seen and cherished
A piece of you had been healed by Max’s actions. Max had just done what Lewis could never do - He had shown the world that you were his and he was yours. Your eyes held tears as the smile on your face grew.
And you echoed back.
“I Love you too. “
As the anthem reached its final note. Champagnes then sprayed all over the podium, and into your section with your team below.
Everyone in Red Bull was enjoying the celebration including you, when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You searched for the person, you looked around and saw nothing.
But then you looked up, your eyes caught Lewis’. You saw pain, confusion and anger. His eyes used to make you back down — but not anymore.
You held his gaze, never looking away. You saw his jaw clench as he was forced to look away. Your eyes sight drew back towards Max, he was already looking at you with a look of question.
It was not one of doubt, but just plain curiosity. You knew that he trusted you. So you once again mouthed words to the Dutch driver.
“I’ll tell you later”
***
Later came quickly, as you and Max had been lounging inside his motorhome. Both are now clean yet exhausted after the shower you both took. Both of you took more than a shower inside that bathroom and you were sure that everyone had heard.
Nevertheless, neither you nor Max cared as adrenaline, emotions, and passion overtook both your senses.
You were now both presentable and dressed in comfier team uniforms. You and Max had occupied the small bed inside his driver's room. Max’s arms draped over your waist and your back gently laid on his chest.
“I’m being interviewed by Nico later” you blurted out.
“Really? Well, are you ok with doing it?” Max had questioned. Max knew everything that had happened inside Mercedes. Every betrayal and every crime that they’ve done to you. And that included your past with both drivers.
“Honestly, I miss him. Max” your voice broke as you said those words aloud. Max was the only person you got to tell about Nico. Everyone in Mercedes had hated him after he’d left and you knew Lewis despised him so you’ve always kept to yourself about how much you’ve missed your big brother figure.
When you started in F1, Nico Rosberg was your first driver and you were a junior engineer in his team. It was the year 2011 and you were just a rookie, everyone had given you no attention and kept pushing you aside, but Nico had seen you and put you under his wing.
The two of you became closer and closer as the year went on. You’ve been to his house, met his girlfriend and family and even celebrated his birthdays.
Then 2012 came, and you had grown and flourished; you had climbed the ladder in such a short amount of time —you were set to become Nico’s lead race engineer for the next year to come. At that point, you had thought that your bond with Nico would be strong forever.
That was until 2013 came. Lewis Hamilton was enlisted to Join Mercedes AMG F1. Nico was delighted to have his childhood friend on the team — much so that he introduced the two of you.
You didn’t like Lewis at first and Nico knew that and he laughed at you; saying that you weren’t going to be having much interaction with Lewis anyway since you were going to be his engineer.
And when you were announced to be Lewis’ lead race engineer — you were dumbfounded. Your eyes looked for Nico’s familiar figure but you didn’t find even his silhouette.
You felt betrayed and angry at Nico. You thought that he was the one who chose to remove you from his team. Your anger and resentment towards your supposed brother had just continued to fester— as he continued to grow distant from you.
And your emotions had drawn you to the arms of Lewis Hamilton. You’ve sought solitude in the embrace of a man in a relationship and Nico had been the only one to see this.
Then he had confronted you and had warned you to stay clear of Lewis. In your anger, so many harsh and cutting words were said — you had targeted all of his insecurities and you instantly felt regret as you let go of the words you didn’t mean.
That encounter had fully severed your relationship with Nico. You tried to apologize, but every time you tried shame filled all your senses and you just turned the other way instead.
2014 came and he got married. You waited for your invitation but it never came — you broke down once again. 2016 had been brutal, as you watched the love of your life and the brother you cherished killing each other on the track.
Nico won that year, you were secretly so happy for him. He did deserve it. Then Nico announced his retirement, and that was when you knew you had missed your chance to mend your broken relationship.
“Go talk to him. If what you told me was true, I’m sure he misses you too. He’s probably waiting for you to make the first move” Max’s words had brought peace within you and you knew what he said was right.
“Well he is a diva, “ you said jokingly. You knew that it should be you to apologize first. And it seemed that you were given the chance to right your wrongs.
“That’s Britney for you” You laughed at Max’s teasing words. Nico hated being called that, but when it came to you — he didn’t mind.
Suddenly you remembered the texts Lewis sent you last race ago. And you decided that Max should probably know it — you didn’t want to keep secrets from him.
“Babe, I need to tell you something about Lewis” You took your phone out and showed the concerning texts Lewis had sent you to the Red Bull driver.
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“Holy Shit” Max’s eyes grew large as he went to read the conversation between you and Lewis
“ Right? This is so concerning. Should I tell Christian about this?” Your fingers fidgeted over your phone, as you surveyed Max’s expression.
Confusion, Puzzlement and Shock had shown itself in Max’s expression. You were about to question Max if he knew anything about that party with the other drivers when a knock and the voice of an RB personnel stopped you.
“Ms. Y/N? It's time for your interview in the paddock, we need to go now. You’ll go live in 10 minutes”
“I’ll be out now” You quickly stood up from Max’s embrace and checked yourself out in the mirror in Max’s bathroom.
You looked back at your boyfriend who was still on his bed.
“We’re continuing this conversation later, babe” You went near him chastity kissed his lips, and wiped the excess lipstick that transferred to his skin.
“ Sure, Schat. Don’t be scared of Nico alright? “ Max had reminded you, as he tucked a loose hair in your ear. You nodded your head and gave Max one last peck.
As you went out the door. Max’s facade quickly warped into coldness and irritability. Hamilton was getting in the way again.
Max then recalled his conversation with Toto Wolff.
“ This wasn’t in the deal, Wolff! “ Max hollered at the Austrian team principal.
“You wanted them to break up right?! And I don’t want Lewis anywhere near L/N. Lewis isn’t giving up, he wants her back” Toto had stated back to the Red Bull driver. As he nursed scotch in his hand, swirling the drink.
“I know that! I need them apart. But come on?!! You want to roofie your driver? Are you fucking insane?!”
“ OF COURSE I DON'T!! I have no other option! All of Lewis’ attention has been on getting L/N back, he’s fucking slacking. I need Y/N to break Lewis… fully. I need him angry — and what more than her going to the enemy? The girl is already leaving — yet still causing trouble for my fucking team”
“You’re crazy Wolff. Aren’t you worried that she’ll work with me and deny the 8th championship from you?”
“She’s already in your team, the bitch moves fast. And no I'm not worried, a girl like her can’t amount to her success. I’m sure she’ll drag you down”
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that! I swear I’ll break this glass and shove it down your throat, Wolff. We’re not friends, you’re still a piece of shit — fucking remember that.” Max suddenly threw the whiskey glass just behind Toto’s head. No ounce of fear nor regret in the Dutch driver.
“Well? What do you say Verstappen? I’ll have my people slip Lewis a pill then you’ll swoop right in and get your chance with the girl” Toto cleared his throat, taken aback by Max’s sudden show of aggression
“Do it. Drug Hamilton, I’ll do the rest. Y/N won't be Lewis’ problem. Nothing should come out of this room, you hear me, Wolff?” Max gritted out.
“ It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Max Verstappen. “
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