#there’s still a lot for me to process. since i watched it all in one night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovieku · 1 month ago

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OLDER ⋆ 정국

you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

pairing: dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader

genre: smut, dilf au, best friend’s father

warnings: lower case intended, porn with some lots of plot, age gap (21 n 38), dom!jk, sub!reader, voyeurism, messy blow job, fingering, oral (f receiving), bit of tit play (small chested reader yayyy), two (2) spanks, unprotected sex, cum eating, dirty talk, a bit of degradation, but also praise, pet names, some angst hehe, she falls first he falls harder??? but miscommunication sadly, forbidden love

ratings: 18+ / mdi

word count: 18.2k

a/n: i kinda hate this it doesnt make sense anymore to me but when i realized i was already 12k words in so 😃 here you are! its also so hard to write smut for me because i get carried away but then it becomes too overwhelming Help. anyways. im back hey!!!!

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in the backseat of his car, you stare forward at his hands gripping the steering wheel. there’s something hypnotic about the way his fingers curl around the leather. you bite your lips, an attempt to suppress the heat easily pooling low in your belly, your thighs rubbing together to conceal the effects of your lewd thoughts.

but amid them, one stands out. it’s the one that puts a shameless, selfish smile on your face, when you fixate on the image of the fourth finger of his left hand lacking a gold band.

it’s been a few months since that day— since areum, your best friend, showed up at your door in a frantic state, her finger jabbing the bell over and over in a panicked rhythm that jolted you from your bed.

you had nearly tripped down the stairs in your rush to swing the entrance open, and when you did, you were instantly tackled by your friend collapsing into your arms, her tears soaking through your shirt.

kicking the door shut, your hands busy embracing areum with panic in your eyes, you tried to steady both her and yourself. in between her uncontrollable sobs, shaking you to the core, she let her worries tumble out her mouth. her words came in a torrent, fast and breathless, barely giving you any time to fully process them as she buried her face in your neck, her body trembling.

it took a moment for the huge news to break through your thick, slowed down brain, but then it struck you, areum chanting it repeatedly as if she couldn’t grasp her mind around it: her parents were splitting up. divorce was imminent.

your own disbelief mirrored hers, but for very different reasons. you felt it in the way your shock turned into excitement; indecorous, depraved exhilaration, with your friend still hiding in your chest.

even as her sobs echoed in your ears, your mind latched onto one single thought, repeating like a mantra: he’s single. mr. jeon is single.

you felt terribly guilty when you sensed a smile that you couldn’t quite suppress stretching over your features, and the jittery sensation that came with it flowed your body and reached your hands, tightening them around areum harder to try and squeeze the shame out of yourself.

since that day, you’ve lost count of how many afternoons you’ve spent at areum’s house. you’ve been doing your best to be the friend she needs, to keep her company when what she fears the most is loneliness.

you’ve been a constant presence, helping her through the mountain of neglected work she left piling up, distracting her with baking sessions, or mindlessly binge watching entire seasons of friends on lazy evenings. anything to keep her mind off the pain.

but each visit is an opportunity. a fleeting chance to see him. to study how he moves around the house with that quiet intensity of his, a presence able to fill every room like a calm, steady current.

you’ve memorized many of his mannerisms. the way his eyes soften when he looks at areum; the way his mouth twitches into a faint smile when she tries to cheer him up; the way he nods at you in recognisment, silently letting you know he’s grateful for what you’re doing to help his daughter.

you wish you could help him too. in other ways. ways you know you shouldn’t be thinking about.

you can’t avoid it, though. you’ve witnessed him come back home from work countless times now, watched the tension etched across his features as he steps through the door, wished you could be the one to ease it off his shoulders. let your hand travel down his chest, reach his belt.

you feel disgusting unfailingly, but how can you not let your mind wander when he groans so deliciously every time he loosens the tie around his neck and kicks off his shoes?

you know exactly what his next move is, the imperceptible sigh melting the weariness off his face the moment he greets his daughter, a tender smile breaking through his exhaustion.

“any requests for dinner tonight, girls?” he always asks, his gaze jumping between areum and you on the living room couch, waiting for a response.

after your friend replies she likes whatever her daddy cooks, your stomach twists with nerves when his eyes meet yours to make sure there’s no complaints, and you quickly shake your head, biting your lips to keep from saying something foolish. is your dick on the menu? perhaps?

and the man can cook. exceptionally well. he moves around the kitchen with an effortless grace, every movement purposeful, every dish you have the honor of tasting better than the last.

while you help setting the table, you catch yourself staring more times than you should, mesmerized by the way he chops vegetables or stirs a pot, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.

fuck. is there even a single flawed bone in this man’s body? with every day you spend at his house, you’re convinced there can’t be.

you want him to notice you, the same way you notice him. you tell yourself you’re just being a good friend to areum, but you know there’s more behind your constant visits.

there’s definitely more behind the way your skirts get shorter, your tops tighter, your bras purposefully not worn.

you feel crazed when you convince yourself his gaze falls upon your exposed thighs when he puts a plate in front of you at dinner, or when his eyes seem to be caught, only for a fleeting second, by your hardened nipples, evident through your poor excuses of shirts.

even when your interactions don’t go further than a brief exchange about college and areum or quiet, polite smiles in passing, the mere thought of being around him sends a rush through your veins, a dark and forbidden feeling tumbling in your stomach.

you’ve been seeking more and more of that after one particular night, your feet making their way down the stairs after areum had fallen asleep and you had rathered take your leave. you found him stretched on the couch, a drink in his hand.

his eyes hazily followed your movements, his voice low and slightly slurred, “are you leaving already?”

hearing him acknowledge you outside of the usual context of areum’s presence made you stop dead in your tracks, your reddened cheeks turning to face him, the dark color spreading all over your features when you fully took him in.

he was cladded in a comfortable attire, one you almost never saw on him, black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt falling sweetly on his shoulders, the short sleeves revealing the intricate ink designs running all over his right arm.

you shook yourself out of your trance suddenly, stuttering, “huh… yes. didn’t wanna be a bother.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, “oh, you’re not. i wish all of my daughter’s friends were like you.”

his words hung in the air, with sincerity and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. you simply laughed along, a nervous, shaky sound escaping your lips, trying to mask the way your heart was racing with desperation for the gods to grace you with the depth of his tipsy voice all night.

to this day, you still think your horny and delusional prayer was heard when he nodded to the empty space beside him, lifting his glass slightly, “care for a drink? you’re 21 now, right?”

you only nodded shyly, more out of reflex than actual thought, slowly making your way to sit beside him just as he had instructed. the proximity sent a wave of heat through your body, your insides melting with the lava, the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent replacing the burned ground with a trail of flowers.

you were willing to do whatever he wanted from you at that moment, even if it meant downing the harsh liquor he poured into a glass for you. you took a sip, struggling not to grimace at the burn that followed. he smiled.

it was probably the alcohol loosening his tongue, but that night, for the first time, you saw a side of mr. jeon that he kept carefully hidden away, his vulnerability a strong characteristic of it.

his words tumbled out in a quiet, almost confessional tone. he spoke about his marriage, about how he had always felt somewhat trapped. still a teenager himself, he was only 17 when he found out his soon to be wife was pregnant with areum; 23 when they decided to marry.

his voice soft, but tinged with a sadness you hadn’t heard before, he admitted he never felt like he got to live his youth to the fullest, certainly blessed with his perfect baby, but also chained down by responsibilities and a tightening pressure he shouldn’t have had to deal with at such a young age.

then, with his eyes burning into your shiny and equally flaring ones, he paused just for a moment, and you felt he could see right through you, into the very core of your being. that he had you all figured out.

“when i look at you,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, his gaze traveling down your bare thighs, squished together on his couch, “i feel like i get a bit of that youth back. you’re so full of life, so fresh, so… full of love for my daughter. i’m glad she has you. glad we have you.”

as he found your orbs again, you noticed his had significantly darkened. you were sure your heart would have failed you if you had kept navigating in his gaze; instead, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.

that night, he paid for your uber and insisted you sent him a text when you made it home. it was only read the morning after, and left unanswered.

even now, you’re convinced that if it weren’t for the whisky, those words would have stayed locked away in his mind, never seeing the light of day. not even if he were forced to speak them at gunpoint.

still, you’re grateful for the magical effects of alcohol and how they’ve brought you a tiny bit closer to give a look into his complicated world. it has awakened something in you, something stronger and far more dangerous than anything you’ve felt before.

you want to be there for him. help him through the doubts and regrets. be the youth he missed. take the weight off his shoulders. let him use you on that couch.

that feral, undomesticated monster inside you is a hundred times hungrier when, exiting the library building with areum by your side, babbling in your ear about today’s plans, you see his sleek mercedes parked outside.

he honks, getting his daughter’s attention too, who excitedly walks over the car when she spots it. the sound works as a pavlovian trigger for you, it has your mouth salivating and your senses alert, catching up with your friend and getting in the backseat.

it has been a few weeks since you last saw him, both you and areum too busy with assignments and outside activities, and his charming smile as he asks about the day cuts the breath from your lungs.

you’re silent as your friend fills him in, your ears struggling to pick up her speech as it only takes a few more seconds for your eyes to be caught by an interesting detail, one that has your world rocked: he finally took his wedding ring off.

the wedding ring that has stood as an unspoken boundary between you and your reckless fantasies is gone.

the realization hits hard, and suddenly, the reality around you narrows. your mind veers into dangerous territory, conjuring visions that feel too real.

you can almost feel his left hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you in, claiming you. and the images are so vivid, so consuming, that you don’t even notice when areum nudges your shoulder.

you don’t register her calling your name until the sound finally cuts through, pulling you back to the present with a jolt.

you blink a few times, trying to ground yourself, before turning to face her, areum’s voice light but her expression amusedly curious, “dad asked you a question.”

your whole face drops, panic clear in your features, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks. you’ve been zoning out, lost in a daydream about the very man sitting in front of you, the one you literally just ignored, too busy thinking of him. the irony is almost too much.

your eyes find his in the rearview mirror, and the slight smirk on his lips only makes you look even dumber, stuttering all throughout your explanation, “sorry, mr. jeon. i— um. i was distracted.”

he simply chuckles, low and clearly not offended by your lapse in attention. his focus is back on the road, but as he speaks you keep yours on the words he’s directing at you this time, “it’s okay. i always tell you, just jeongguk is fine. i was asking about your day, you seem a little worn out.”

“oh. i—it went well! i guess i’m just tired,” the words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you hope they sound convincing enough. you just can’t stop your eyes from falling on his left hand.

“well, you can’t be!” it’s areum’s excitement interrupting your furious imagination and bubbling over, “you need to help me set up for tonight. then, we’re gonna do our makeup, our hair, and dress up. i’m so excited!”

right. the reason why you could finally see mr. jeon after weeks and why you’re currently driving to his house is because it’s areum’s birthday.

the day feels significant in so many ways. you’re excited to witness your best friend turn a year older even after the hardships she’s been faced with. honored that you’re the one she’s chosen to help make this night perfect, ensure every detail is just how she’s pictured this moment to be like. and you can’t deny that you feel slightly nervous at the prospect of tonight, knowing there’s going to be faces you’re not that well acquainted with. you’d say you’re a bit awkward with new people, but you’ll try to bear through it for the sake of areum’s happiness.

but mostly, you feel guilty. because no matter how much you try to focus on your friend, the thought that truly makes your insides all mushy with fuzziness is the fact that you’re going to be in the proximity of her dad, again.

you crave for the smallest moments. the brief second where you’ll catch his gaze. the way his cologne will subtly linger in the hallways of his home. your eyes have a habit of drifting to his hands, those strong, veined, tattooed hands that move so smoothly whenever he speaks.

even now, in his car, as you glance at his side profile, there’s a ridiculous and almost cosmic sense of gratitude. like you’ve been chosen. blessed by whatever god to exist on this planet at the same time as him, to simply witness his presence.

it should be enough. it really should. but you’re a sinner. you’re greedy, wanting more. always more.

that buzzing sensation sticks with you throughout the entire day. the hours are packed with frantic energy, as you and areum run around in anxious over-organization, only for her own panic to rub off on you, making your movements quick and precise, as if every step has to be executed flawlessly.

and with all the chaos, he’s there in the back of your mind. mr. jeon. his presence is overwhelming, even when he’s not around.

he helps for a while, joining you in the backyard as you set up for the evening, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the whirlwind around you. but then he disappears into his studio, retreating into his own space, leaving you to your tasks, and you don’t see him until hours later.

yet, you still feel him, as if he’s always near. his upstairs studio’s window faces the garden, and it’s enough to make you hyper-aware of your every gesture.

you straighten your back, slow your steps, each action more deliberate, because even though you don’t know if he’s really watching, it feels like he is.

getting your makeup, hair and outfit ready with areum does slightly ease that sensation off your chest. you love these moments with her. shared girlhood when you do each other’s eyeliner, the flutter of excitement as you zip up dresses, as you rummage through her closet, searching for the perfect piece to complete your look.

but even then, you’re brought back to the man working just a few rooms down the hallway. it’s astonishing how easily areum has access to everything she wants. the power her dad holds, the kind of wealth that makes life feel effortless in ways you can’t help but envy.

for her, money isn’t just something that buys things. it’s a silent force that shapes her world. she doesn’t have to worry about how much something costs or wonder if she’ll ever have enough. it’s as simple as snapping her fingers.

it must be nice to have that kind of life. to have someone like him in your corner, with wealth that seems to fall into place as easily as leaves from a tree. you don’t resent her for it, not really. but it makes you wonder what it would be like to live in a world where nothing is out of reach.

where everything, even the man who haunts your thoughts, could be yours with the right words or a simple gesture.

when you see him again, you’re standing in his kitchen. areum is still upstairs, fixing the tiniest details to her makeup, but you decided to come down early, just in case the first guests arrive, wanting to be helpful, wanting to keep yourself busy.

you’re momentarily lost in the view outside the window, the backyard garden bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights, their soft hues blending beautifully with the sage and pastel yellow decorations. the setup looks like something out of a dream, and it pulls a small, unbidden smile to your face.

the quiet peace is interrupted by the sound of a cupboard cracking open behind you, and you startle, your heart giving a quick jump.

you turn, following the noise, and there he is— jeongguk, bent over as he retrieves a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard.

as he straightens up, bottle in hand, he finds your eyes already staring in his. he’s uncharacteristically deliberate as he still lets his gaze wander up and down your figure.

you’ve dressed carefully for tonight, choosing a flowy pink dress that flutters delicately against your thighs. the corset top hugs your waist in all the right ways, accentuating your shape, the kind of dress that makes you feel just a little more confident, a little more seen.

but now, under his gaze, you feel exposed, like he’s seeing more than just the fabric of your dress. his eyes linger longer than usual, and when his orbs dip to your chest, it’s almost as if he hesitates, like he’s trying to tear his eyes away but can’t.

you’re not even sure if the engrossed look on his face is real or just the product of your own twisted fantasies.

still, your body responds instinctively, your hand drifting up to play with your necklace, an unconscious gesture, while your other arm wraps around your waist, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together under the intensity of his stare.

when his eyes return to your wide ones, he gives a subtle nod towards your dress, and the smile that curves his lips is warm, but you can’t decipher that something else it wants to communicate.

his voice is smoother than you’ve ever heard it, as if literal honey, sweet and rich, is dripping out from his pillowy lips, “what a beauty. you look very pretty.”

you weren’t expecting that. it steals the breath from your lungs. it’s not just the words, or even the way he says them, velvet wrapping around your senses.

it’s how he seems to drink you in, his refined wine nothing in comparison. like you’re something to be savored just as carefully.

at this point, you’re seriously questioning if there was a stronger substance in the liquor you and areum shared earlier, even if you hadn’t taken big quantities, each small sip burning your throat and making you grimace at the sensation. but you figure it must have been enough to distort the current reality around you. or maybe, mr. jeon is the inebriated one.

you don't know how you find the voice to speak, or if you even do, the word escaping your lips in an uncoordinated mess, almost imperceptible, “thanks.”

he hums deeply in response, and it vibrates through the space between you. you let out a shaky exhale the moment his gaze finally shifts away. he resumes the task at hand, effortlessly opening the bottle of wine and turning his back to you as he reaches for a glass from the higher cabinet.

the muscles in his shoulders shift under his shirt, and for a split second, you’re unsure what to do. whether to stay, add anything else, flee the room entirely. make small conversation about areum’s birthday. comment on his look, too. oh, you have a lot to say about it.

you can tell he just wrapped up his work-related tasks for today from the way the first three buttons of his white shirt are opened, revealing his deep cleavage. his hair slightly tousled, but in a way that looks purposeful, perfectly intentional. his slacks hug him deliciously, rounding the curve of his ass and making you swallow hard.

your eyes can’t resist trailing over him, but they quickly move up to stare at the ceiling, feigning deep thought when he turns back to face you, and the counter.

surprisingly, he’s the one to break the silence first, again. the rich sound fills the air as he pours the red wine, the motion so precise, so fluid, it feels like witnessing an authentic art form.

he doesn’t bother looking up at you as he asks, seemingly casual, but slightly amused, “is there a boy you’re trying to impress tonight?”

the way he steers the conversation makes you less agitated, more confident. especially with the question thrown your way. teasing, almost belittling. you can see he’s not even trying to hide his pretty smirk, his focus on the wine flowing into the glass.

the question lingers, and you twirl your necklace around your fingers, smoothing down your dress with your other hand, your eyes flitting to his naked left hand, “mh… you could say so.”

of course, you’re not thinking about a boy. mr. jeon is no boy— he’s a man. the kind women dream about but know they’ll never find. the kind that belongs on the big screen or in the pages of a novel, with his effortless charm, his wealth, his looks that stop you in your tracks.

but he’s in front of you. and he’s tall, muscular, with hands that could crush or caress, tattooed in a way that makes your mouth dry up and water all at once.

it’s him you want to impress. you want to affect him the way he affects you, with effortless intensity. you want to pull him in, make him look at you the way he makes your world tilt on its axis with just a glance.

you’re hypnotized as you witness him in one of his rich man activities, performing a ritual with the wine glass. he brings it to his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the aroma.

there’s something so practiced, so sensual in the way he handles the glass, the liquid dancing with delicate precision, as if even this simple act holds meaning. you can’t look away.

when he's satisfied, he finds you again, and your mouth is slightly open without you even realizing it. the moment he lifts the glass to his lips, you bite your own, almost harshly, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

his smile is soft, but there’s something unsettling in its honesty, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

he mutters into the glass, his words resounding even stronger, “well, he’d be a fool not to fall for you.”

the implications of his comment make you swallow audibly, while he downs his first sip of the wine with fine ease, his adam’s apple bobbing with it. the whole time, his eyes never leave yours.

a thick silence stretches between you, and you wish you could break it but you don’t know how. your mind spins with the unspoken tension, but he seems entirely comfortable with it. the only sound filling the space is the quiet hum of the house.

he places the glass back on the counter, the soft clink of it slicing through the quiet. smoothly, he nudges it in your direction, his movements slow, as if testing the waters.

his voice is inviting, even more than usual, “you want some?”

”is that wine?” you instantly cringe at the way you sound strained.

he hums, a low sound of affirmation, watching you carefully.

you briefly glance at the glass, “i’ve never had it.”

”try it, then.”

with a slow twist of his fingers around the base, he slides the glass toward you. as it moves across the marble surface, you notice how he rotates it imperceptibly, but purposefully, so that the side where his lips touched the rim is now facing you.

the gesture is subtle, but the intent behind it is clear. at least to your deranged fantasies.

there’s a faint lip mark where his mouth had been, and the sight of it pulls you in, making your pulse pound in your ears. you look back up at him, finding his gaze still on you, his expression unreadable but heavy with implication.

without a word, you lift the glass, your fingers wrapping clumsily around the stem. you bring it to your lips, your mouth closing over the spot his lips had just pressed on.

the wine hits your tongue— bitter, sharp, and unfamiliar. you gulp hard, the liquid burning slightly as it slides down your throat. your face scrunches involuntarily, a clear sign of distaste. the richness of the flavor is too much for you, and you can’t help but grimace as the aftertaste lingers.

he watches, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. when you set the glass down, he effortlessly picks it back up and brushes his fingers across the rim.

his tone laced with amusement, he asks, “like it?”

you shake your head quickly, trying to hide your discomfort.

his chuckle is low, a soft rumble that makes your stomach flip. swirling the wine gently, he muses, “i heard there’s going to be alcohol tonight.”

you groan lightly, slumping your shoulders, “ugh, i know.”

the endearment rolls off his tongue like a secret meant just for you, his voice dipping into something softer, more intimate, “make sure you don’t drink too much, pretty face. i’ll be around.”

just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your thoughts spinning. pretty face?

what just happened? you’re not sure, but you’ve definitely stepped into something dangerous, something you can’t quite shake.

it’s hard to do so, even as the birthday party kicks off. the energy in the backyard shifts as more guests arrive. lively voices and unfamiliar faces begin to fill the space. areum’s laughter cuts through the hum, infectious and bright, drawing everyone in.

it all contrasts sharply with the weight still hanging in your chest from your earlier encounter with mr. jeon. your eyes keep darting toward the house, toward where you know he is, even though the logical part of you tells you to stop.

you stand at the entrance to the garden for a moment, taking in the scene. the subtle smell of flowers mixes with the faint scent of food, and your best friend bounces around the space, radiant in her dress. you’re genuinely happy for her, honored to share this moment.

and with your best efforts, you start engaging with others, smiling as you talk to some classmates and mutual friends, but it’s all surface-level. your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only later, as the evening progresses and the party settles into a rhythm, that you begin to relax. mainstream music plays in the background, and it inevitably involves everybody, as some classic party games become the main entertainment.

long after the cake and the gift-opening, the group gathers into a loose circle, throwing each other never have i ever questions.

you can’t help the way you all still feel like teenagers deep down, and how you get foolishly excited whenever the topic gets hot, and hints at anything that is sex related.

childish and immature, you know, but your ears still perk when the first probing question is tossed out.

“never have i ever been fingered.”

areum instantly shushes it, her eyes panickedly looking back to the house in hopes her dad isn’t around. laughter bubbles just as quickly, both because of the question and the girl’s reaction.

as expected, many reach for their drink, and you do too. the few present boys holler in a teasing manner, gaining some eye rolls.

sheepishly, the plastic cup touches your lips and you take the smallest sip from your punch. you can’t appear unbothered like your other peers, your cheeks subtly flaming as the embarrassing memories rush to your mind.

it’s silent, the small plea you telepathically send to anyone that might be listening. you pray for the topic to shift to something else, something that won’t inevitably put you at the center of the attention. something you can relate to.

but of course, god is not on your side. the questions only dig deeper, wandering in uncharted territory (at least for you), and you never reach for your glass again.

you can only sink further in your chair as everybody else around you seems even more lively with the way the game has turned, sharing their experiences, giggling as they listen, refilling their cups.

beside you, areum buzzes with energy as every question is just something for her to drink to, nothing that shocks her or that she isn’t familiar with.

never have i ever given head.

never have i ever been ate out.

never have i ever rode someone.

it’s undeniable, the way your skin heats up. with how you’ve been spending your whole day, fantasizing about the man who’s probably already asleep in his bedroom by now, your friends sharing their adventures only fuels your imagination.

you feel dirty when you put yourself in those scenarios, and for every daring moment they relive, the figure that appears beside you is always mr. jeon.

if only you turned your head, just for a moment, and glanced toward the kitchen window that faces the backyard.

you would have seen the same man dominating your thoughts, staring intently at the scene unfolding outside.

jeongguk is hidden in the shadows, the darkness of the house swallowing him whole, with every light turned off. maybe that’s why neither you nor areum notice him.

you don’t see him. you don’t feel him. you’re too caught up in the moment, too consumed by your own desires, unaware that the man that put you in that same condition is standing so close, watching.

jeongguk traces your every move with his intense gaze. he studies how your face dips down at every new question, how your smile seems just a little too tight, too forced when listening to the stories, the ones that make you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

if you don’t notice it, he does almost immediately— the way the attention in the circle shifts toward you.

the glances thrown your way become layered with a subtle curiosity, laced with something that looks like concern. but then, in the eyes of a few, jeongguk catches a faint trace of judgment.

it’s there, in the tilt of their heads, in the way they exchange fleeting looks with one another, as if they sense your unease and interpret it as something lesser. something they can pick apart.

his jaw tightens as he observes, that familiar protective instinct stirring within him. it makes his hands twitch by his side. he stays rooted in place.

eventually, the moment you clearly seem to dread the most (it doesn’t take a genius to know. it’s written on your face. or maybe, he got so used to studying you. it comes easy to him. knowing you,) follows.

it makes you want to vanish into the thin air caressing your legs, the way the question is put out with intent, an only pretending-to-be-careful tone wrapping it, all pairs of eyes instantly directed in your direction.

“never have i ever… had sex.”

you feel trapped, a momentary panic bubbling in your chest as you reach for your cup, hesitant. the rim hovers near your lips as you avoid every expectant glance, taking the smallest sip you can manage.

a murmur ripples through the circle. you can’t decipher it, too busy feeling the heat spread across your face. it’s only later that you realize no one else drank. the question had been crafted specifically for you, a silent test.

lara exhales, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “woah, i was getting worried for a second there, ___.”

you barely have time to react before areum steps in, her voice sharp in your defense, “what’s wrong with never having had sex, either way?”

“nothing, but—”

you’re not sure why you speak, and why you choose your speech that way specifically. you cut in before you even realize what you’re doing, driven by a sudden urge to explain yourself, an unshakable need to clarify forcing itself up your throat, “i only took a small sip, though.”

the group’s collective curiosity spikes, attention zeroed in on you like never before. you feel it— everyone waiting for you to continue, to reveal something you’ve kept to yourself until now. so, you give in, words tumbling out against your better judgment.

you clear your throat, straighten your back against your chair, your tone evasive, “i technically am not a virgin, but…”

the expectation drips from every person around you, their wide orbs trained on you, and for some reason you continue, gulping audibly before providing them with an explanation they don’t deserve, “when we— did it, he um… he got his tip in, but— god, this is embarrassing.”

“c’mon, tell us!”

you sigh, pressing forward with the humiliating truth, “he came, like, two seconds after. so, i felt nothing.”

the laughter that erupts is immediate, your friends covering their mouths in shock and amusement. you can only chuckle nervously, shrinking in your seat with a deep, liberating exhale.

yunjin pats your shoulder beside you, “that’s so sad, babe. we need to find you a real man.”

a strange sense of relief courses through you, the adrenaline from finally being acknowledged and validated by your friends swelling within, and you quickly learn how the buzz spreading to your body after taking part in sharing one of your experiences awakens you significantly.

you don’t know why, but you keep talking, oversharing, feeding into the newfound attention, “oh, i’ve been waiting for one in particular.”

you quickly become the center of attention for different reasons than the previous ones, now. their curiosity flares again, eyes wide with excitement as they beg for more details. who is it? tell us!

their voices overlap, but you dismiss them all with a playful shake of your head, giggles bubbling up as you try to evade their questions.

but just as quickly as the moment came, it fades when you glance to the side, and your smile drops.

jeongguk’s eyes meet yours immediately.

the intensity of the gaze knocks the breath from your lungs, the air thick between you as time seems to slow.

he’s been watching the entire time, arms crossed, the muscle in his jaw tensing as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. there’s a quiet frustration etched into his expression, a subtle irritation with your friends’ behavior. but it’s more than that. there’s something stirred by your confession.

your inexperience. your innocence. the untarnished parts of you he’s only beginning to realize he wants to corrupt.

the truth is, he’s known for a long time. longer than he’d like to admit, really. but he’s never let himself feel it fully until now.

it wasn’t something that hit him all at once. no, it crept up on him slowly, over the months. he’s always known you were beautiful, in that distant, untouchable way. you’re his daughter’s best friend, after all.

but he couldn’t help his eyes from lingering on you a little too long when you’d come over to hang out with areum, how his heartbeat would quicken up when he’d let himself be coddled by the warmth of your helping actions, the way his muscles would tense when he’d catch sight of you lounging by the pool.

he’d been good at keeping it under bay. but you weren’t subtle, not even the slightest. your fleeting glances, your breath hitching whenever he was near, your clothes putting you on display for him. it all made it harder.

even more when you’ve been nothing but the proof that angels exist, and at some point he convinced himself you were sent on earth to fill the void he felt his whole life, with your unconditional care towards his daughter and your pupils widening whenever they’d land on his.

and earlier, in the kitchen. he’s used to being in control, but the way you responded to his presence, to the compliment he gave you, had moved something deep inside him.

maybe it was seeing you tonight, all grown up and standing there in that dress, hugging your figure deliciously. how you carried yourself, confident yet unsure, mature yet untouched.

hearing you talk about your inexperience, about that brief, awkward encounter with a boy who clearly didn’t know what he was doing. watching you squirm under your friends’ teasing questions, witnessing how you tried to explain yourself.

it’s like it all clicks into place for him. and for the first time, he’s letting himself acknowledge it.

jeongguk wants you.

he knows it’s wrong. so wrong. he’s never felt this way about someone so much younger than him, and yet, the need to be the first one to truly touch you, to show you what it means to be wanted by a real man, makes his blood run hot.

it’s dangerous, the way these thoughts take hold of him now. maybe it’s the way you’ve changed lately, stepping into womanhood but still holding onto that wide-eyed innocence. or maybe it’s him. maybe he’s the one who’s changed, his resistance crumbling little by little.

he feels disgusting. selfish, his stomach swirling with nerves. dirty, his fingers twitching and begging to free his insides from such feelings.

but there’s simply no ignoring it anymore, no pretending like you’re just areum’s friend. that boundary he set in his mind is starting to blur. he’s old enough to know better, but old enough to know exactly what he wants.

your eyes widen with terror, meeting jeongguk’s own hardened gaze. he wants to tell you, wants you to know, but the way your startled expression lingers in his narrowed eyes makes him hesitate. it fills him with uncertainty, an unfamiliar feeling, one he rarely contends with.

the moment is abruptly interrupted when one of areum’s friends, an older guy she’s met through her dad’s colleague, crashes into you from behind, draping his weight over your shoulders.

you struggle not to stumble forward, holding yourself on the arms of your chair while you look to the side, and immediately try to pull away when you realize the unwanted proximity.

but it’s hard, you’re weaker than the boy’s embrace, holding you still and wiggling his eyebrows, his tone playful as he ruffles your hair, “is it me?”

the people around you laugh, the sound light and carefree, but the way your body stiffens, the clear discomfort in your eyes— jeongguk notices.

and he also notices (reluctantly) the ugly feeling making space in his stomach the more that guy’s face moves closer to yours. his jaw twitches, the muscle at his temple ticking.

he can’t just stand there doing nothing anymore.

the sudden sound of the door to the garden opening catches everyone’s attention, and your gaze flies over in that direction.

jeongguk steps out, his presence commanding, and your expression drops. areum’s eyes grow wide, instantly sensing something wrong in the way her father is looking at the scene. his eyes are too dark, too sharp, and if no one else detects it, you and his daughter surely do.

still, the taller boy behind you moves up again, taking a step back from your seat, and jeongguk seems to reserve him a look you find hard to decipher. it’s firm, heavy with a warning.

“areum,” he calls, his voice calm but edged, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

she’s quick to move toward him, and you can’t help but try to listen in on what he’s saying to her.

but the voices of your friends rise again, loud and boisterous, filling the space with chatter, drowning out any chance you had of overhearing.

you sigh, and when you return to your slumped position on your chair, you can’t ignore how all the girls around you are sneaking glances at him, their giggles piercing through the air as they whisper among themselves.

jeongguk has always had a certain effect on people, and tonight is no different. you hear some of their comments, but they don’t fully register in your mind.

all you can focus on is the bitter feeling rising in your chest.

you bite the inside of your cheek, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. it sickens you, the way you have to share the image of him with everyone else.

you wish only your eyes had been granted the gift of looking at him, of admiring the way his shirt stretches across his chest or how his hair falls perfectly, even when tousled.

but instead, he’s a spectacle for everyone to enjoy, and you hate it.

when areum returns, she’s slightly slumped over, her energy deflated. behind her, mr. jeon stands with his arms crossed, a small, condescending smile tugging at his lips.

areum’s voice is low as she announces, “the party’s over, guys.”

the subtle groans of disappointment echo around you as your friends try to protest, giving up when met with no possible negotiation. they then gather their things, saying their goodbyes and slowly trickling out, only after trying to argue about it.

once the last guest has left, it’s just the three of you, left to clean up the remnants of the night in the dimly lit garden.

jeongguk barely looks at you. his focus is elsewhere. on the mess, on areum, on anything but you.

as you bend down to gather some empty cups, you steal a look at him again. he’s helping clean up too, though his motions are deliberate and slow.

it’s silent for a while as each one of you picks up their own task. teamwork seems to be efficient, every area of the backyard slowly regaining its original aspect.

until areum yawns dramatically, stretching her arms above her head as she makes her way over to you and her father. she mumbles, blinking heavily. "’m so sleepy."

jeongguk raises an eyebrow, glancing at the still-messy garden, some leftover cups and plates scattered across the tables, and the chairs strewn about from the night's festivities.

he teases lightly, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "oh, really? you’re just gonna leave all this mess behind?"

for a moment, the weight of his words hangs in the air. you and areum both freeze, glancing at each other with wide eyes, unsure if he’s serious. the pause is brief, but it’s enough for tension to rise in your chest.

but then, jeongguk’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“just kidding,” he chuckles, his tone warm now, the joke clear. “go sleep, c’mon. it’s past your bedtime.”

areum sighs with exaggerated relief, rolling her eyes before stepping forward to wrap her arms around her dad in a loose hug. she mumbles into his chest, “i’m not a kid anymore, dad. i don’t have a bedtime.”

he chuckles with a lightness that was foreign to you until that moment, and he leans down, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, his voice low and tender as he whispers, “whatever you say. happy birthday, reumie.”

it’s such a simple moment, nothing grand or elaborate, but the intimacy of it, the quiet affection between father and daughter, makes your heart clench.

you watch them with stars in your eyes, completely captivated by this rare portrayal of vulnerability from mr. jeon. he’s always been the composed, collected man in the background of areum’s life, but here, he’s just a father, brimming with love for his daughter.

you almost feel like an intruder witnessing such a private exchange, but you can’t pull your eyes away. every detail — his hand softly resting on her back, the delicate warmth in his eyes, the way his voice softened — it all paints a picture of a side of him you’ve rarely seen.

you want to be part of it, too. want to bask in his love, the one he keeps hidden but the same one that shapes him whole. that fills him from head to toe, never spilling, always quiet. makes him the brave man you only know through your best friend’s admiring eyes, never from his words.

he doesn’t like talking about himself, but you’d kill to know what truly goes through his mind, even for just a second. you’d gladly find a house in his brain, and you’d pay rent and everything.

when areum finally pulls away and turns to you, her expression sleepy but content, she asks, “you coming with me?”

you hesitate, glancing at the mess still surrounding you. you speak with a small, reassuring smile, only looking at your friend, “i’ll be there in a minute. i wanna help clean up first.”

she just shrugs, already too tired to argue, and heads inside. jeongguk’s eyes follow her briefly before flicking back to you.

his lips part as if he wants to say something. maybe to insist that you shouldn’t stay, or that you should go inside too. but the words never come. instead, he watches you silently for a second longer, before turning his attention back to the garden.

now, it’s just the two of you.

the quiet between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. the subtle hum of the night seems louder now without the chatter of party guests, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze fills the air as you move around the small round tables, readjusting the chairs.

you’re trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to mr. jeon. to the protective edge in his tone earlier, to the way he’s been looking at you tonight.

but then, in your distraction, you clumsily trip over your own feet, your breath catching as you stumble forward.

before you can fall, though, a strong hand grips your arm, steadying you instantly.

“oops. careful, little one,” it’s jeongguk’s deep voice murmuring close to your ear, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

your face flushes immediately, the heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him through your lashes, feeling ridiculously small under his intense gaze.

“it’s okay,” he instantly replies, his tone so gentle it almost makes your heart falter.

silence falls again, but this time, it’s thicker, and maybe even uncomfortable. you both remain still for a moment, his hand loosely gripping your arm, and you feel yourself burn where his fingers rest. his thumb brushes your skin lightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but it’s enough to make you gulp audibly.

finally, he releases you, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never leave yours, "thanks for making my daughter happy today. i really appreciate that. i appreciate you."

the words catch you off guard, your breath hitching at the sincerity in his voice, deeper, almost too revealing.

your mind races, trying to find the right words to respond, but all you can manage is a stutter, “oh. i—”

his voice is firmer when he gently cuts you off, “go sleep now. i’ll finish here.”

you want to protest, but the way he’s looking at you — his dark eyes locking onto yours, holding you in place even with his hand now by his side — makes it impossible.

there’s something about the way he’s speaking, like he’s being careful with his words, almost spelling them out, making sure you’re paying attention to each one, “if you need anything, you know where to find me. yeah?”

you swallow hard, nodding slowly. his gaze is unwavering, and it feels like he’s saying something more than just the words themselves, something you can’t quite grasp yet. you stammer, “right. yes. i—i’ll… goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

it’s not exactly a good night for you. in a sense, maybe it is. you always welcome dreams like these when they decide to visit. but right now, it feels more than a little awkward.

worst timing ever. you’re lying next to areum, the daughter of the very man who’s making you wet with just a few flashes of imagery dancing behind your closed eyelids.

at first, it’s soft, almost serene. you see a beach, engulfed in warm, blurry tones that blend together like watercolors left to bleed in the sun. the sea is flat, unmoving, and glimmers like pearls under the flaming light.

a weight presses down on your exposed thigh. the sensation feels so vivid that it pulls you deeper into the dream, and as you glance down, you instantly recognize the large, familiar hand resting there.

jeongguk’s hand. his left one. on the fourth finger, a gold ring.

when you lift your head, his face greets you with a wide, unusual smile. his hair is wet, slicked back as if he’s just come out of the water, droplets clinging to the tips.

but the softness of the look he gives you is replaced by something more dangerous, more daring. he bites his lip, and you see it.

a double piercing sits on the side of his mouth, the silver studs gleaming as he plays with them using the tip of his tongue. your breath catches in your throat. you don’t just see it there.

on his eyebrow, a matching piercing catches the sunlight, giving him a rebellious edge.

you remember them from old pictures areum showed you once. jeongguk, in his younger days, rougher, wilder, and undeniably charming.

it must have left a deep impression on you because your subconscious has dug it up now, weaving it into this dream. deep in your slumber, you unconsciously whine.

his hand kneads the soft skin of your leg, and his grin stretches wider, eyes crinkling into familiar crescents, but with an edge you’ve never seen on him before.

"you wanna take another bath?" his voice is husky in your ear, filled with suggestion. he’s leaning in now, closer, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin.

your throat feels dry, your pulse quickens, and before you can say anything, his hand slides higher, fingers grazing the hem of your swimsuit. his breath fans over your face, and suddenly, the sea behind you isn’t the only thing that feels like it's burning.

"come on. just you and me."

before you can even think to answer, your surroundings shift. the beach, once hazy and peaceful, morphs into something more private.

you’re no longer in the open air, but sitting at the border of his pool, both your feet grazing the warm water.

jeongguk’s hand is still playing with the laces of your bikini, and he’s slow and teasing as he pulls one of them. when he fully undoes it, you’re bare in front of him.

but he doesn’t look down just yet. he keeps staring in your eyes, his smile gone now, replaced with something more serious, more focused.

jeongguk leans closer to your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, and it feels way too real when he whispers, “let me make you feel good.”

it’s with a jolt that you wake up, the low sound still echoing in the depths of your brain, and you struggle to take in your surroundings at first.

on your right, areum is sleeping soundly, even snoring softly. you'll tease her about it in the morning.

but if the thought initially puts a smile on your face, it morphs into a frown when you register the reason why you’re now awake, and you brim with guilt.

you have to get away from your best friend. need to get away from your brain, if possible. wash it all with a glass of cold water.

you make sure not to cause too much noise as you slowly sit up, the covers falling from your figure and the air welcoming you with goosebumps on your skin.

your naked feet tentatively touch the ground and you force yourself to stand on them, padding on the floor and exiting the room, gently closing the door behind your shoulders.

at first, you only hear it. faint, muffled noises; fussing; heavy panting; groans.

you blink rapidly, convinced your hazy brain is still cozily wrapped around the blankets, finding it hard to let go of the images that had flashed behind your eyelids and adapt to the new state of consciousness.

but as you make your way to the stairs, the sounds get closer, and more vivid. it’s not just your mind playing evil games, anymore.

it’s shushed moans, and eager whines. and they seem awfully close to how you’d always imagined mr. jeon would sound like. in that situation.

having lost control over your own brain a long time ago, it feels like you’re now being ordered around by it, no freedom of choice whatsoever.

your feet move on their own, following the source of that delicious music, and you swear your eyes get teary with joy when you find that the door was left ajar.

you feel delirious. the small gap is more than enough to give you a view into what you never thought you’d have the honor of witnessing: the man of all your desires has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it, then dragging it up and down in slow movements that you just know are torturing him, from the way he harshly bites his lower lip, to the way his furrowed eyebrows almost meet at the bridge of his nose, eyes focused on his doings.

nonetheless, he loves it. his mouth opens every time he brushes the tip of his thick dick with his palm, releasing small whines, followed by quiet moans when he uses his other hand to play with his balls.

he cusses repeatedly, then grips his base and halts his movements. only to go over the punishing pattern again, bringing himself closer to the edge then retraining when he feels like stepping over it.

the sight of mr. jeon edging himself makes your knees weak. it takes over you physically, you genuinely have to find support in the wall beside you.

you need to be there with him. you need it to be your hand; need him to guide it just the way he likes it; need him to teach you how to please him. his groans make your head spin, and you need to get closer.

you’re not thinking when you instinctively take a step towards the slightly open door, but when you do, the floor cracks under you.

you’re paralysed. in the silence of the house, wrapped in night time, the otherwise small sound is amplified, and he stops his hand.

with the little power you still possess over your actions, you move your back to the wall beside the door. your breaths are ragged, too overwhelmed with the mixture of fear and lust, and you think of running away to hide but a huge weight is chaining you down, and you find yourself unable to move.

you can only register fussing from the other side, the soft thump of his feet on the floor and the door opening alarmingly. when he looks to the side, he’s met with his expression mirrored on your small face, your eyes wide but willing themselves to keep looking in his.

if you were to look down, you’re not sure you could keep yourself composed, knowing his cock is hard and unattended in his pajama pants.

“___? what are you doing up?” his voice quickly takes on the calm that characterizes him so well, instilling some of it in your startled figure.

still, you stutter all throughout your answer, making it clear what you just spied into with the way your face changes color, “i— water. i wanted— there’s no, huh, water in the fridge.”

mr. jeon does a weak job at hiding the confused amusement on his features. nonetheless, he nods, a small grin on his lips while he says nothing, just walks to the stairs and makes his way down them. you follow hastily, careful not to trip.

there’s plenty of water in the fridge, but he doesn’t question it. he takes out a bottle and pours a glass for you, sliding it over the counter.

you take the smallest sip, afraid you might choke with the way he stands facing you, staring so intensely into your orbs.

when you put the still full glass down, he smirks. you see his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him, “nightmare?”

the depth of his voice translates into heat pooling right in your lower stomach and staining your shorts. you’re a mess just from the blurred sight of him. you shake your head, “more like… a weird dream.”

he smiles fondly, having to break the prolonged eye contact and look elsewhere, his grip getting tighter and his patience wearing thin.

he won’t be able to control himself much longer if he doesn’t get out of this kitchen, especially with the effects of your effortless charm flooding down his pleading dick.

you’re in front of him, eyes full with a feeling that scares him, only the counter dividing your bodies, and you’re wearing the tiniest satin shorts paired with a white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, the cut dangerously low and your nipples evident through the material.

he’s a gone man.

his eyes no longer anchoring you, your gaze automatically travels to where you shouldn’t be looking, for your own sanity. but the outline of his cock is so delicious, it makes your mouth water with want.

you’re not sure if it’s your own eyes deceiving you, but you swear you can see it throb, and at that moment you realize he’s not wearing any underwear. just thin, loose pants covering his length.

you gulp, clenching around nothing. you feel him sigh, and the sound makes your head spin with greater force.

he looks back at you, but you’re too enthralled by your current view, the effects of it almost completely shutting out your hearing and your rational thinking, as you round the counter and leave his words hung in the air, “i’m sorry for… what you probably saw. should’ve closed the door.”

apology silently dismissed, or simply ignored (why would he even apologize for blessing you with such an unforgettable sight?) you now stand next to him. as he turns to you, you’re faced with his chest, and you have to bend your head upwards to meet his curious eyes.

your body has long forgotten to trust the thin amount of rationality that could still be found in your brain, and that’s how you find yourself leading your hand to cup his cock through his pajamas.

his face is stoic, staring at you intensely. he doesn’t startle, doesn’t gasp, doesn’t move away. but you feel him. if the contact does something to him, he doesn’t show it. he keeps looking down at you, in your eyes.

then, he speaks, his voice steady, “what are you doing.”

you’re suddenly aware of your actions, and you fall victim to them, feeling small because of his stern, composed gaze while you melt under it.

your voice is frail, barely a whisper, too weak to sound as convinced as you truly are, and your words come out slurred, “wanna help you.”

he doesn’t break, doesn’t seem affected by your desperation, but his pupils are blown out, knuckles white from grasping the counter, “you already did enough.”

your hand is still on his dick, unmoving. no one dares break the moment, though. if anything, being this close to him, feeling him while you both search for something in each other’s eyes, is only spurring you further.

you get on your tip toes, your perky nipples brushing against his chest, your voice low while you tilt your head to the side, “what were you thinking of? i’ll be that for you.”

immediately, his hand flies over yours. he doesn’t move it, just holds it still. the look in his eyes is a lot darker, his eyelids droopy, his jaw clenched, “stop this.”

the electrifying spark that buzzes you the moment you feel his skin travels from your hand to your whole body, and it significantly weakens you.

you don’t know if you fall to your knees because they genuinely give up on you, but it’s how you find yourself facing his hardness, your eyes never leaving his glossy ones, highlighted by the dim light shining through the curtains of his kitchen.

“___. get up.” there’s a tremor in his voice, and the hand that was blocking yours now falls by his side, twitching.

you see it in his eyes. sense it in the tension of his muscles. he’s holding back. but you don’t want him to resist you.

“please,” your beg is muffled and quiet, your nose brushing against his length and following a torturous path that makes him hiss.

he groans deliriously, willing himself to tear his orbs off your big, pleading ones staring up at him, but he doesn’t do anything to move you away.

“fuck,” the chuckle that follows is feverish, his body on fire with the forbidden, but so wanted touch, “don’t make me have to reject you, doll.”

“you don’t have to,” you’re unexpectedly quick in your answers, your conscience coming back to you but letting it be taken over by a dark feeling, the one that makes you kiss his tip through the thin material, and lick along his length, finding his eyes, “i want you.”

jeongguk inhales, his lower lip bleeding with the harsh biting, and he swears his knees are shaking with the effort of keeping even the slightest, thinnest thread of sanity intact.

he wishes he could stop you. knows he should. but he can’t. he can only watch as your slim fingers hook under the hem of his light pants and lead them to pool down his ankles.

the way his cock springs free and brushes your smooth, pure face makes him huff out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he takes in your eyes widening at the sight of his length.

mr. jeon is long. and thick. he’s veiny, and perfectly shaved. it looks almost unrealistic, but he’s in front of you in all his glory and he throbs. leaks pretty precum to coat his angry tip.

he doesn’t know how he manages to speak, especially when you look up at him through your droopy eyelids, pupils blown and tongue ready to take him.

his voice is rough, as if it wants to stay stuck in his throat, but he forces one last warning out, “___. don’t do it.”

any and all kinds of inhibitions are nonexistent the moment you attempt a kitten lip at his wet tip, and the simple action makes his head fall backwards, a way too loud growl escaping him.

his breaths are heavy, broad chest moving with them as he looks down at you again, too tempted to look elsewhere.

he curses as soon as he does, his lust-filled orbs swimming in your equally craving ones, and he believes this view is crafted by the hands of a god, not slightly comparable to anything his mind came up with back in his room, not too long ago.

the reason why he’s gotten rock hard under his covers, it’s you. the yearning he couldn’t suppress anymore, the hunger making him salivate, the need to be consumed by your love, the desire to be touched by you, to be cured by your innocence, only to taint it.

he’s thirsty, wants to drink all of you in. wants to finally have you, taste you, feel you. he’s tired of fighting it.

jeongguk doesn’t know how to decipher his heart doing literal flips in his chest when you fully take his cock in your mouth, and he lets out a sound he’s never heard his own self ever produce.

it’s high-pitched, whiny, delirious, and it leads himself to subtly push himself forward, to bury his length in your throat.

you inevitably choke at the new sensation, your eyes fluttering shut to keep the tears welling up under your eyelids from spilling out, but you go relentlessly, just as hungry.

you tentatively bob your head up and down his length, messily taking him as best as you could, probably accidentally scraping him with your teeth a few times, and you try to make up for it with your swirling tongue, slurping thirstily.

he almost coos at your eagerness, and as badly as he wants to bask in the sensation, having to keep himself from pounding into your mouth, he holds your silky hair in a ponytail and gently pushes you away.

when you find him again, your eyes are glossy and your eyebrows drawn up with worry.

you don’t want this moment to end. you don’t want your insecurities to be proven right, don’t want him to ward you off, to still think of you as nothing more than a childish girl with an evident crush. you’re on your knees for him to finally see you.

jeongguk instantly reads your thoughts.

his voice is quick to sooth you, a sweet smile painting his face with an expression you rarely see on him. it’s soft, just like his voice, “come up here, angel.”

you want to listen to him, want to follow his every order. but you’re not sure how to when he’s regarding you with a care you’d never thought would be directed at you, one that empties you of any strength. when the pet name rolling off his tongue that easily seems so natural, you want to think it’s all he’s ever seen you as.

with a delicate tug at your hair, he leads you on your feet again. but you’re weak, your chin falling on his chest as you look at him through your lashes like he’s hung every single star in the sky.

his hand leaves your locks only to cup your face, promptly helping you stand straight to study your features.

if he didn’t know better, he’d say you’re high off the strongest substance you could find. your pupils cover your orbs in a dark, wide circle, a lazy smile on your pink lips as you let yourself be handled by him, no control over your body, almost falling over his bigger one again before he steadies you by your hips.

he lets out an amused chuckle at the state you’re in because of him, and he hopes you know just how much you’re affecting him, too. he wants to swallow you, pill after pill, overdose on you.

when he’s sure you don’t need his help keeping you still anymore, leading your palms to rest on his wide shoulders, he takes your face in his big hands and forces you to swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his words are spoken slowly, a low whisper fanning over your lips, “if i kiss you now, i won’t be able to control myself anymore.”

your eyes jump relentlessly between his own orbs and his mouth, the latter winning the battle when you fixate on it, and speak just as weakly, “please, kiss me.”

you barely manage to get the words out before jeongguk is all over you. he devours you, pushing your lips open and finding your tongue, playing with it in a mess of slick and heavy breaths.

his fingers travel through every angle of your body they can find, pulling your face impossibly closer by your nape, leaving goosebumps along your bare arms wrapping around his neck, falling down your torso and squeezing harshly as they rest by your sides.

your moan is inevitable when his palms reach down the curve of your ass and shove you against him. you feel his hardness meet the softness of your lower belly, his wet tip poking at it and making him hiss on your lips.

he does his best to swallow all your sounds, your muffled whines and whimpers his favorite meal as of now. it’s a wince of slight pain that you let out as he positions you in between his body and the counter, the border pressing on your lower back.

when he moves from your kiss, even with your lungs being unable to breathe anymore and begging for a break, your head follows his movements to try and bring him back on you again.

the chuckle he lets out is almost belittling, the right side of your face being completely engulfed by his palm to put distance between your mouths, his other hand keeping you still by your waist, and his own hips push against you.

you quickly glance down to where your bodies meet, and you whimper when you take in the way his cock is just above your core, his balls brushing against your clit. you only need to lift yourself a little forward to fully feel him.

but it’s like he instantly knows what’s making your head spin, his grip tighter but still mindful not to hurt you. the sudden squeeze has your eyes finding his, feeling ridiculously smaller under the weight of his heavy gaze.

he makes sure you keep your whole focus on him, and as much as registering the way your orbs are glossy with anticipation and desire is making him almost regret his next words, he lets them out, steady but soft, in your face.

“you had your fun, baby. now, you’re going to listen to me. hm?”

this time, your reaction comes promptly following his request. you’re hanging from his lips, tracing their every move and sound, immediately nodding at the order.

but it’s not enough, and jeongguk ensures to sound a bit firmer, ”use your words.”

”yes, mr. jeon.”

the way your response rolls off your tongue with seemingly no hesitation, your pupils still on his, the words you choose to say, make him let out an amused chuckle.

your eyes widen, and he drinks in your state, cheeks flushed and lower lip trembling. you need to bite it in order for it to stop shaking when he narrows his eyes, his left palm rising from your hip and finding its way under your top, his remark making you startle, ”you’re such a bad girl. aren’t you?”

jeongguk makes up for the way more tears seem to well along your bottom lashes by cupping your small breast in his larger hand, swirling his thumb around your nipple, and you need to fight against the loud moan traveling its way up your throat, the chocked sound getting stuck as your mouth hangs open, your eyebrows furrowed.

but it only takes some more of his degrading tone for you to let out an unashamedly loud noise, his fingertips pinching your nipple, ”calling me that only because it gets you off. doesn’t it? you’re not so innocent after all, princess.”

he quickly swallows your sounds with his lips on yours, and both of you can’t help but hum lowly at the contact. jeongguk thinks he could keep kissing you for hours on end. but he badly wants to feel every other inch of your body, too.

unexpectedly, the kiss gets broken when he turns your body around with ease, your back now pressing against his front, and you steady your shaking figure by planting your hands on the counter.

the access to your ear comes effortlessly, he just needs to bend his head down to cover your height difference and make sure his whispered words meet you as close as possible, “i’ll give you what you want. but you need to be quiet and good for me, understood?”

you’re not sure if you should use your voice or stay silent, but your body doesn’t give you the chance to ponder over it before letting out a whiny yes. you’re not exactly being quiet, but can he blame you?

the man you’d get to talk to for more than five minutes only in your dreams is now promising you he’s going to give you what you want. and his cock is perfectly nestled in between your ass cheeks. you’re positive you’ll have to throw your shorts right in the bin after he’s done with you.

though, the scoff resounding in your ear makes you regret not even trying to lower your volume. you really want to be good for him. don’t want to disappoint him.

that’s why when he taps two fingers under your chin, without him having to express it for you, you part your lips open, tongue out. from the corner of your eye, you see the side of his face scrunched with a long dimple before he shoves the digits inside your wet mouth.

you instantly wrap yourself around his thick fingers, coating them in your warm slick, and you can tell it’s affecting him with the way the hold on your hip tightens, and he shifts between your thighs.

with your tongue swirling around the two digits, your eyes search for his face. looking up at him through your lashes, you clench around nothing when you take in the effortless way he towers over you, his body engulfing your whole smaller figure.

the sinful eye contact leads him to spur you on further, his voice rough with desire, “that’s right. suck on them like you would my cock.”

you hum deeply at the encouragement, fluttering your eyelids shut as you energetically bob up and down along his fingers. you think you can still feel the taste of his precum lingering on your tongue, and you whine, wishing you could have him again.

the noise gets cut from your throat when he forces his digits out, the slicky sound lustful, and it makes him groan lowly.

with his other hand, he delicately pushes your head forward to bend you over the marble counter, the same one where hours ago he passed you his glass of wine to take a sip from.

the surface is cold against your cheek and he’s out of your vision as he stands straight. not being able to see what he’s doing, the expression on his face as you lay folded for him, makes the anticipation flood even stronger in your veins.

you feel him pull your shorts down enough to reveal yourself to him, hear him hiss as he’s enthralled by the way your pussy glistens, all for his eyes to admire.

the curse that follows is instant, “fuck. no panties?”

you’re embarrassed for your straightforward bareness, whimpering at his surprise with your fist tightening and your nails imprinting crescents in your palms, but you’re also so impatient to feel his touch.

tentatively, you wiggle for him, hoping to brush against his length, but it’s to no effort as he instantly stills your movements with a hand on your lower back.

he scoffs incredulously, feeling your bare ass against his palm, “it’s like you knew this would happen. you dirty, naughty girl. always giving me those eyes.”

it’s light, the spank that meets the side of your butt, but you gasp nonetheless. you need to bite your lower lip harshly in order to suppress the loud moan from escaping your throat, and you’re sure it bleeds when he softly strokes the spot he hit.

the hand soothing you now travels to your front, torturously putting pressure on your sensitive stomach and following a slow pattern, only to reach your wet core.

he finally touches you where you’ve been needing him the most, and you both groan when he uses his already soaked pointer and ring finger to spread your lips, his middle one tracing your slit.

you inhale deeply as he repeats the motion, and when you exhale you can’t help small whines from leaving you, the pleasure already too overwhelming.

you feel like passing out when his body weight presses on you again, his mouth directly on your lobe, the intention in his voice dripping on your skin, “you think i wouldn’t notice? you know how hard my cock gets everytime i see you in these tiny clothes of yours, huh? you’re quite literally the death of me, doll.”

then, it’s like all your senses come back to you the moment he pushes his digit in, and he immediately reaches around you to put his other hand over your mouth the second he sees it opening, your eyes rolling up.

you scream in his palm, the sound muffled with his fingers tightening under your jaw, his body still leaning on yours.

he whispers sweet nothings in your ear and stills his middle finger inside you, getting you used to his presence, “shh, princess. good baby, you’re doing perfect.”

the contrast to his earlier shaming tone only makes you whine more, your eyes squeezing closed to try and keep the noises in. you’re sure you bite his palm when he starts moving inside you, the finger curling tentatively and soon being joined by another one.

you shake your head weakly, feeling yourself reach delirium, and you manage to stammer out, “can’t— can’t do this.”

“you can baby, c’mon. you wanna be a good girl f’me, don’t you?” his tone is still low, warm breath fanning over your nape, and you melt under the sudden change in attitude.

you nod, not because you believe you can actually get through this without your heart failing and the whole neighborhood hearing you in the process, but because you do want to be his good girl.

“say it.”

“wanna be good— your good girl.”

he hums, “that’s right. i need to stretch you out if you want to take my cock.”

you choke in his wrap, now looser around your face, surprised at his words, and you clench hard at the mention of his cock inside you.

you throw your head backwards in search for more of his proximity, and you mumble nonsense, your brain completely melted, “yes! want your dick.”

“i know you do, little one,” with your head nestled between the crook of his neck, his hand now falls to your throat, and he holds you gently by it while his fingers pick up a faster pace.

he’s ruthless as he moves them inside you, effortlessly finding your sweet spot with a curl of his long, tattooed digits, and you whimper at the foreign sensation, unable to moan like you really want to.

you feel like screaming the more he keeps going, the only possible reaction to what is happening to you. one moment ago you were dreaming of this, and now it’s your reality.

mr. jeon is fingering you and calling you his good girl. his large figure is behind your smaller one bent over the counter, his palm around your throat, his hard length pressing against your ass.

the moment he uses his thumb to flick at your clit, you arch your back into him and you hear him fight to suppress a surprised moan.

“shit. you’re so impatient, sugar. dripping around my fingers. wanna taste your sweet juice, can i?” it’s a rhetorical question, hushed slurredly in your ear, because after he lets it out his fingers leave your hole, and find a new home on his warm tongue.

he purposefully moves your chin to make you a witness of his sinful action, humming deeply around the taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut, his digits popping out drenched.

your mouth hangs, your tongue unconsciously peeking out as if asking to be made a participant, but jeongguk only smirks and stands straight once again, his wet hand leaving another light spank on your ass cheek, “turn around, sweets.”

you do as asked, making sure your palms are still steadying your weight on the counter now behind you, afraid your legs alone won’t be able to.

but you soon find out you won’t have to put much effort into that when jeongguk lifts you with ease and sits you on the surface, your slickness meeting the cold marble.

you don’t have to lift your head to look at him anymore, your heights now the same. but finding yourself directly in front of his hardened gaze makes you feel even more intimidated.

especially when he traces your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving yours, “every time you stand up to leave after dinner, you always leave a puddle on my chairs. and i’m left to clean it up.”

you swallow audibly at the accusation, and you can feel your eyes water once again, biting your lips to conceal the shame.

he only grins amusedly at your state, the tip of his tongue coming out to play with his lower lip. the hand on your leg now forces it to move to the side, his face only getting closer to yours, his tone deeper, “i’ve thought about licking it up, you know? but then i always stopped myself, because i knew i’d get to taste your pretty, wet pussy.”

you gasp, a shaky moan leaving you uncontrollably, and your fingers hover over his figure, wanting to find support in him but unsure whether to touch him.

he finds your mouth with a short kiss, almost reassuring, but he’s back to spitting sins the moment he lowers his face between your spread legs, and the way he looks up at you is almost scandalous.

he looks devilish, his orbs visible through his lashes, his tongue wetting his lips. he takes your uncertain hand and places it between his tousled hair, directing himself to you, instructing you how to use him.

he presses a peck above your clit, still drinking in your reactions, his smile wicked, “i knew you’d crumble soon. you little minx. going after your best friend’s dad. so naughty.”

your head is thrown backwards at his words, ones that only add to the pleasure that takes over you when he latches at your pussy, the wet sounds ungodly.

the shame and guilt mixing in the back of your mind generate a profane sense of bliss you’d never think you could reach, and even though deep down you feel dirty being confronted with the truth he sputtered out so easily, you can’t help getting off to it right now.

jeongguk is ravenous as he finds your drenched lips, lapping furiously at them and drinking the juice that continuously drips out.

he flicks the tip of his tongue up and down your swollen clit, and your hand that he himself put on top of his head now tugs at his curls, forcing him closer to you.

he’s trapped, your legs squeezing around his head, his nose nuzzled in your slit, and he can’t stop the hand that reaches to stroke his pleading dick.

you think you hear him mumble something along the lines of taste so good as he teases your hole with his wet muscle, and you’re a gone woman the moment you look down, your eyes fluttering open.

his own are closed, brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose relentlessly grinding against your sensitive nub, and the way he seems so affected by the act of pleasuring you breaks something inside you.

you feel it begin to crumble when his tattooed hand reaches up to lift up your top just enough to expose your breasts, nipples hardening with the cold air and the stimulation, and they hurt deliciously when he starts kneading at your boobs, fondling them with care.

the deep hum generated from his throat vibrates against you, and the flick of his thumb around the center of your tit matched with the way your clit is being continuously abused unexpectedly leads you to your orgasm.

it’s fast, unannounced, and you find support in his hair, your body taking over your brain and relentlessly grinding against jeongguk’s face, suffocated between you, unable to stop reaching for the heavenly, and so awaited high.

your whines are frantically high pitched, but the moment he feels you cum all over his mouth everything around him disappears except you, and all he cares about is slurping you, drinking you as you let it all out because of him.

he pants, breathless, opening his eyes to witness your climax, to admire you breaking under his doings, chest swelling with pride and a primal sense of protectiveness.

when he hears you whimper the more he keeps sucking on your clit, your slim fingers pulling at his locks, he finally lifts himself up.

on the path he follows to come back up to meet your face, he finds your nipple with a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing your nub, and he smiles against it, teeth gently pinching it, when seeking with his eyes for your reaction he sees your own rolling back.

next, his mouth is on yours, smearing your wetness all over your lips and mixing it with his spit on your tongue, connecting in a frantic, hungry dance.

his forehead is on yours when he breaks the kiss, his breaths heavy, the lazy grin on his face the only thing you can focus on, hanging on his gentle words, “did so good, pretty. came so hard all over me.”

your eyes inevitably fall down to his cock, painfully hard against his stomach, the tip angry and slicked with precum.

you feel your core buzz, kissing him to conceal the unshameful desire building up so fast again, but still you can’t help from mumbling against him, “wan’ you to fuck me.”

the hum of pleasure coming from his throat reverberates on your lips, and he smiles at your confession. even chuckles, one hand resting at your hip and sliding you closer.

“that what you want, baby?” your legs wrapping around him, he kisses along your neck and travels down to your collarbones, leaving small bites to keep himself from marking you like he truly wants to.

he slips his palms under your thighs and lifts you off the counter effortlessly, and you squeeze your hold tighter around him in order to keep yourself balanced.

the new position has his cock perfectly meeting your core, your slit brushing against his tip as he walks you two over the living room couch, his mouth promptly swallowing your whimpers.

when he lays you on the sofa, he straightens himself to fully admire you. you’re sprawled for him, your hair framing your head like a halo, the sweat pearling your forehead adding to your angelic state.

your hands are on either side of your face, fingers dainty and slender, and your tank top is lifted up enough to show him your small breasts, slightly spilling from the sides.

your shorts still rest under your ass, and with a swift motion he fully takes them off you, giving him access to your center.

but the attention is taken away from your wet cunt when he lets his eyes come back up to your face, your cheek resting on your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment at his ravenous observing.

he smiles, becoming impatient with the feeling that only grows inside him, and he walks out of his pants still pooled down his ankles, taking off his loose t-shirt and letting it fall on the ground.

your eyes widen at his sculpted physique, now finally in front of you, his buff dimensions intimidating you, especially when your orbs follow his v line and put you face to face with his huge cock, so close to your watering hole.

he teases it with his length, sliding it up and down your slit, then slapping it against your clit. you arch your back, groaning.

“am i the real man you’ve been waiting for? you wanna be fucked by this big man, don’t you?” his sinful words only make you nod dumbly, becoming potty under his control.

at your eagerness, he wastes no time. aligning himself with your hole, he enters you. the stretch is deliciously painful, his tip boldly splitting you open for him.

he knows your wail is coming, so he lowers himself on you to block your sounds with his mouth. but he’s the one that needs to be silenced.

the moment he feels your tightness around his bare dick, he growls. his sounds grow more desperate as he sinks himself deeper, the grip on your waist enough to wreck you, and you’re expecting it to leave a mark.

you hum roughly against his lips, your nails scratching along his shoulder blades in search for any kind of grounding you can find.

it’s too much, his dimensions way oversized for what your hole can take, and the fact that you can’t help but grip him even tighter isn’t helping.

he reads you, your broken whines and the tear falling from your left eye, and the moment he bottoms out he stills himself, his face in the crook of your neck, his nose nuzzling the warm skin in a reassuring manner, “shh, baby. i got you. let me make you feel good.”

the whispered words are the same ones that jolted you from your sleep, the dream almost too real, and paired with his middle and ring finger circling your sensitive nub they cause you to emit a pleasured squeal, your chest arching into his.

at this point, you’re afraid you’re still trapped deep in your slumber. that none of this is actually real, it can’t be.

you’re so convinced that it’s just too good to be true that you test it, scraping your nails harshly in his back, and when he bites the skin under your jaw in protest you gasp shakily.

it’s definitely real. jeongguk is fucking you. almost. not yet.

with the way your clit is being stimulated by his long fingers, the initial sharpness turns into more slick, and you impatiently groan, “fuck me, please.”

one final kiss is left on your lips before he lifts his torso up, his hands roaming along your sides and grasping a hold of your tits.

he teases you with a playful smirk on his face, your disappointed pout only resulting in a devilish chuckle from him as he massages your soft boobs.

but you can feel him throb inside you the more you swallow him in, and you know he’s just as impatient. you buck your hips up in search of friction, and the sudden motion makes the both of you moan.

he’s suddenly resolute as his palms fall to your waist and effortlessly hold you up as he begins fucking into you. with each stroke he picks up his pace, and he’s soon pounding your tight hole wrapping around him.

the two of you soon find out it’s impossible to be quiet. your sounds are stuttered and pornographic, and it makes jeongguk afraid he’s never going to be able to get them off his brain.

his own noises are heavenly, deep growls and surprised whines falling out his pillowed lips, slightly agape in bliss, brows drawn up.

your eyes roll back and never come back, your vision patched, and you think you weren’t build to survive this kind of pleasure. it’s almost deathly when he finds that one particular spot that makes you see stars.

your skin slapping is louder than his hushed speech, but he makes sure the words reach you and translate into wetness coating his length even more, drenching it, making it soaked in your juices, “that’s how you need to be fucked. that’s how my girl needs to be fucked, hm?”

“mhm, fuck, yes!” it’s breathless, but you want him to hear you. you feel yourself get closer just watching him smirk proudly at your state, his pupils blown out.

his palms are back to playing with your breast, kneading it harshly, and you enjoy the way he seems to be hypnotized by the vision, “fuck. love your tits. fit just right in my hand. you were made for me, princess.”

your head is thrown back between the cushions, your legs wrapping around his ass and pushing him even deeper, the anticipated sensation building simultaneously in both of your trembling bodies.

“i’m not gonna last long, baby. this pussy’s too tight. trappin’ me inside it,” jeongguk’s voice is rough, the words leaving him slurredly and all his effort put into snapping his hips against yours, his eyes focused on the relentless in and out motion.

you wail, mumbling nonsense, but at the same time the most sincere words you’ve ever sputtered to him, “it’s yours, jeongguk. f—fucking yours. forever. ah— fuck.”

he hums, feeling you contract around him the more he speaks to you, “that’s it. my pussy to fuck, angel. mine to play with, mine to fill up.”

your eyes widen at his territorial remarks, and when they meet his hazy ones they water with overwhelming ecstasy.

the possibility of his cum filling you up is what does it for you, your nerves undoing once again and making you spasm around his throbbing dick.

he talks you through your abrupt orgasm, praising you for cumming so good all over him, drinking in your blissful sounds and your hips rutting against his.

he’s just as close, and the realization that you came the moment he mentioned painting you in his seed makes him a crazed man, his motions stuttering sloppily, “fuck. aren’t you a naughty one, doll. you really want me to cum inside you? you want it, huh? i bet you do.”

your repeated nodding and the way your body is so pliant in his hold, letting it be completely handled by him with no functioning muscle, pervades his senses with a primal force that he puts all into fucking your sensitive cunt.

he smirks wickedly, “you’d look so pretty. all stuffed. want me to fill up this tight pussy? want my mature cock in so deep you can’t breathe?”

you think you scream at his continuous suggestions, but you can’t be sure when all your senses are clouded, the oversensitivity turning you into a literal doll for him, no power over your actions.

he looks just as fucked out, his lips parting as he basks in the feeling of being in control of you, his eyes fighting to stay open and keep you in his vision.

when he feels you contracting around him in overstimulation, his breath stutters and he feels himself reach the peak, quickly pulling out of you to spill his cum over your naked skin.

you gasp at the sudden emptiness and the warm liquid that keeps falling over your stomach, his cock being pumped in his fist and milked from all he can give you.

you both pant in exhaustion, your legs loosening their grip around him as he dips his weak knees on either side of you on the couch.

he hums when he fully takes in your figure, marked by his cum, and he smiles when he sees your eyelids struggling not to fall.

but you spasm once again when you feel his finger slide over your stomach, the wet liquid being collected, “now, you gonna clean this up for me. open your pretty mouth, baby.”

you don’t even ponder on the request, you just follow the order. your brain is reduced to thoughts that are only related to him, and it automatically complies to anything that he asks from you.

you engulf his digits promptly, swallowing his semen, looking up at him through your lashes and unashamedly clenching at his lazy smirk.

he makes sure every drop of his is collected and sucked by your hungry mouth, smiling when you don’t ever complain, “mh, good girl. get them neat.”

when he’s satisfied, he hovers over your face and finds your tongue in a sensual, slow kiss, both of you moaning at the exchange.

with a sloppy sound, he parts from you only to disappear between your thighs, his eyes mischievous, “gonna clean you up, too.”

you gasp at the feeling of his mouth wrapping around your core once again, slurping your juice and lapping at your inner thighs, and you’re not sure how this is going to help in getting you clean. you only feel yourself becoming even wetter, if possible.

leaving a kiss above your nub, he straightens up with a boyish smile softening his features, and with the fond way he’s looking at you, nobody could tell he just made you cum twice.

he moves your bangs from your forehead, closing the distance between you once again to leave small pecks over your still reddened face, “you did amazing, doll. made me cum so hard.”

you hum contentedly, snuggling closer to him, your body unconsciously gravitating toward his warmth. your hand lifts to thread through his hair, but before you can touch him, he shifts, pulling away.

the warmth he provided vanishes, replaced by the cold emptiness of the couch. panic surges in your chest, washing away any remnants of fatigue. you prop yourself up on your forearms, eyes tracking his movements.

you don’t want him to leave you here alone, bare and vulnerable, maybe a bit confused and uncertain, and deep down deathly scared of whatever will come after this.

your brows furrow, heart picking up a painful speed when you see he’s getting dressed—tossing on his shirt, pulling on his pants. and for a second, your heart clenches with dread. is he leaving?

but then you notice him picking up your shorts from the floor, his expression softening as he walks back to you with that same gentle smile that had made your heart flutter earlier.

relief washes over you.

he handles you delicately, as though you’re something fragile. his fingers brush your skin as he slips your shorts back on, pulling down your top before encircling your waist with his strong arms.

you squeal lightly when he pulls you onto his lap, settling back on the couch with you cradled against his chest. his hands never leave you, securing you to him.

you settle into him easily, sighing in appreciation as the warmth of his body returns, your legs draped across his lap, arms circling his neck.

for a brief, fleeting moment, everything feels like it’s in its right place, like this is where you’ve always belonged. it feels so natural, so easy, being wrapped up in him.

his deep, slow breaths lull you into a state of calm. his chin rests on the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing strokes along your spine.

you press even closer, breathing him in, feeling like you could get used to this, like you already have. like you’ve always known this is where you should be.

your fingers trace absentminded patterns along his tattooed arm, the one holding you secure under your legs. you feel the need to look at him, to admire the man that marked you as his.

but when you glance up, you’re a bit startled when you notice the shift in his expression. his face is hardened, jaw clenched tight. he’s not relaxed like he was just moments ago. his gaze is distant, staring intently at a spot across the room as if lost in thought.

yet his hands continue to cradle you, almost unconsciously, like holding you has become second nature to him.

but his mind is a whirlwind of emotions, and they only scatter all over the place as he feels you move closer, impossibly so.

you seek warmth, care. nuzzle your fragile body against his for protection, something more that he fears he can’t give you. love.

he once thought he’d drained himself of it, had nothing left to offer. but now, with you in his arms, the smallest spark flickers to life, burning its way up his throat until it feels like it’s going to consume him.

he wants to give in. he wants to hold you tighter, trap you against him, keep you with him. give you love.

but he can’t do that to you. can’t make you go through the same path that took everything from him. not without ruining you in the process.

he knows what comes next. love turns into suffering. it’s inevitable.

and could he survive seeing the look on areum’s face if she ever finds out? how would she react if she knew the truth about what he’s done, about how he feels? about how he truly wants to act upon his feelings?

the thought makes him feel sick, even as his heart beats steadily against yours, comforted by your presence.

but why doesn’t he feel disgusted? why isn’t there shame gnawing at him, making him pull away? there’s only bliss. the sheer joy of having you this close, of holding you like this, makes him forget everything else.

he wishes he could be immature, for once. wishes he was your age, and that nothing truly mattered. that he still could allow himself to make stupid decisions.

maybe then, you’d feel right in his arms, and reality wouldn’t catch up to him.

“jeongguk? are you okay?”

your soft, honeyed voice pulls him from his spiral, and he startles slightly, caught off guard. his eyes meet yours, wide and filled with concern, searching his face for answers.

he tries to hide the storm brewing inside him, forcing a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “huh? yeah. i’m okay.”

of course, you don’t believe him. an ugly feeling makes space in your stomach, and the weight of everything begins to press down.

you don’t want it to take over you just yet, want to be coddled by the illusion a little more, want to try and believe there’s nothing to be afraid of.

you offer a tentative smile, hoping to ease whatever tension is growing between you. “you… you seem worried.”

“i’m not, baby. i’m just thinking.”

“about?”

“stuff.” his voice is clipped, and the small wall he’s building between you becomes clearer.

the distance stings, and your heart sinks as you try to hold onto the moment that felt so perfect just a second ago. desperate to reach him, you place your hands on his face, tilting his chin down to meet your gaze.

your eyes jump all over his, but you manage a genuine, if small, smile. “you can tell me, you know. you can talk to me.”

one simple, small smile spreading across his lips makes you doubt all of your worries. it makes you want to believe that maybe, there’s truly no reason to be scared. that maybe, this can go well.

“i know,” it’s whispered on your face, his hand coming to play with the hair that frames your cheeks sweetly. “let’s get you to bed now, hm?”

before you can protest, he’s lifting you off the couch with ease, cradling you in his arms bridal style as if you weigh nothing at all. you clutch onto him.

you feel your insides fuzzy with the gesture, and you wiggle yourself closer in his embrace, looking up at him expectantly, “your bed?”

it breaks his heart having to disappoint you, tone firm as he tries to make up for it with his thumb brushing your thigh, “no, baby. you gotta go back to areum’s room.”

“but— but… i wanna sleep next to you,” you plead, your voice small and almost childlike as you pout up at him, hoping to sway him.

he looks away, focusing on the stairs as if looking at you would break his resolve. “we can’t, dove. you know we can’t.”

his words feel like a punch to the gut, and your voice hesitates. “we can’t?”

the silence that follows is louder than any answer he could have given, and it weighs heavy between you, suffocating. there’s no actual explanation to it, and the realization leaves both of you uneasy.

at areum’s door, he sets you down gently, making sure you’re steady on your feet. he’s careful with you, like he always is, his voice low, “go wash up. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“no…”

“c’mon, sweetheart. don’t make this harder.”

you frown in protest, keeping eye contact, but he doesn’t break. his gaze is steady, resolute.

you want to argue, want to push, but the exhaustion settles over you, and you slump, defeated, but you still sway sweetly for him, your hands tied behind your back, “okay… can you kiss me?”

your voice is small, muffled behind your pout as you seek for him with anticipation, a shy smile making its way on your lips.

when he doesn’t move closer, you get on your tippy toes and lean in his direction once again, your eyes almost fluttering shut before you hear him clear his throat, and take an awkward step back.

you’re back on your heels with a thump, the same one reverberating in your chest with your heart falling, your mouth hanging open with confusion written all over your expression.

you go to say something but he’s quicker, his voice solemn, “goodnight, ___.”

jeongguk smiles, but it’s nothing like the ones that took over his whole face just minutes ago on the couch, his eyes full of you. you’re not even sure if you can define it as a smile.

it’s polite, almost too polite, and it only results in feeling tremendously distant from him. he’s completely disconnected from you.

he retreats, long legs carrying him away, his back to you as he slips into his room. the door clicks shut behind him, the sound final, and it echoes in the hollow space.

you stand still, the weight of his absence pressing heavily on your chest. the spot where he left you feels like a grave, your feet sinking into the cold floor as if it’s pulling you under. the warmth he offered, the fleeting sense of safety, is gone, and you’re freezing.

you try to breathe, but the air feels sharp, your throat tight with the effort to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. it’s useless, though.

your bare feet shuffle against the floor, but you can’t move forward. you can’t go back. you can’t do anything except stand there and feel the weight of it all crash down on you.

you’d been so afraid this would happen. how could you have been so foolish? even in the midst of the sweetness, you knew it was too good to be true. a part of you always knew.

and yet, you let yourself believe for a fleeting moment that something real could come from it. that you could be enough.

you’d have done anything to prove it to him. to show him your loyalty, your willingness to make it work. you still would. you’d give him every part of yourself, if he’d only take it. if he’d only look at you the way you want him to.

the full weight of your reality sinks in. in the end, none of it was truly real.

a sob breaks free from your chest, raw and painful. the sound echoes in the quiet hallway, bouncing off the walls that now feel oppressive, like they’re closing in on you. this house, every corner, it’s all stained now, tainted by the lie you let yourself fall into.

and you? you feel tainted, too.

1K notes · View notes

outsideratheart · 7 months ago

Text

Healing (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: This took me a lot longer to finish than I hoped but it’s done. Grab a drink and get comfy because it’s a long one, in fact I think it’s my longest fic to date.

The world had its questions and you were well aware of the headlines.

Y/N Y/L/N quits football.

Where is Y/N Y/L/N? Here's what we know.

The best in the world has vanished.

If you find Y/N tell her Sarina is looking for her.

The last twelve months had been the hardest in your life. You thought you could prepare for it, that it would easier because you knew it was coming but that wasn't the case. The day it happened was the day your heart broke and as you buried her you knew you were burying part of yourself too.

You left the world speculating as to why you didn't extend your contract with Lyon, why you never signed for another club and more importantly people were wondering where you had disappeared to.

Both your club and country team mates knew about your personal life and the tragedy that happened shortly after the euros.

You missed football, of course you did, but you also needed to take time away to process what had happened. A return date was never set but then the world cup happened. You watched your team mates cry after losing to Spain and you couldn't help but feel partially responsible. The game might have ended differently if you had played.

A decision had been made. It was time to return to the pitch. You had offers before and after the euros. The only question is what teams would still want you?

The sun was setting in Barcelona as the team finished up a late training session. Most of the players stayed behind to take advantage of the free food given they knew once they got home they wouldn't have the energy to cook themselves.

“Lucy your phone is ringing” Ona shouts over to where the English defender is filling her plate.

“Who is it?” Lucy replies.

Ona’s face floods with guilt. Almost as if she shouldn’t be looking at the phone. This sparks interest of those around her but no one more than Keira who sees the name on the screen.

“Y/N” Lucy all but ran back to table after hearing Keira say your name “is everything ok? Where are you? Yes I’m with Lucy. Before I hand you over promise me that you’re ok? Good”

Keira hands over the phone and watches Lucy’s face as she tries to figure out why you called and what you are talking about.

“Yes there are people around me. Ok, I’ll ask”

When you hang up the phone Lucy does as you ask or at least she makes the first step.

“Alexia” Lucy walks around to where the captain is sat with Mapi and Ingrid “Who would I talk about signing a new player?”

“It’s not our job to recruit players but if you know something that might help the club then tell me and I will ask” Alexia wasn’t stupid. She heard your name and now Lucy was asking this. It wasn’t a coincidence.

“I can’t. This is a sensitive subject”

“Vale. Talk to Jona and if he thinks the player is right for the club then he can set up a meeting”

Alexia left the training facility that night thinking of you. You were at the peak of your career, many people considered you the best in the world and if she is being honest she thought you would win the Balon d’Or, not her. That night Alexia watched your highlights for hours, even the ones in the games against her. You really were a once in a generation player which makes it that much harder for Alexia to understand why you walked off the pitch at Wembley and hadn’t been seen on one since.

The next day at training the energy felt different. Lucy and Keira had a sense of happiness that their team mates hadn’t seen before. They would gather around Lucy’s phone but then hide it when somebody came close to them.

Jona came walking into the gym with Xavi Puig right behind him and called over both Keira and Lucy. A couple of players watch the conversation unfold and tried their hardest to read their lips.

“Ingrid, what are they saying?” Mapi nudges her girlfriend.

“They’re talking about Y/N Y/L/N” Alexia was stretching on the floor playing no part in the eavesdropping.

“How do you know?” Ingrid asks her.

“She called Lucy yesterday and then Lucy talked to me about the club signing a new player. I can’t know for sure but that’s what I think is going on”

A couple of days later you landed in Barcelona, greeted by the warm weather and your two England team mates who kept a low key appearance in the arrivals hall. You stop when you are a meter away them. You didn’t know what to do, you hadn’t seen them in almost a year.

“Come here” Lucy throws her arms around you followed by Keira.

“We’re so happy to see you Y/N. We really have missed you”

You remain quiet as you walk to the car. Both of them fill you in on what the team is like and you make sure to remind them that you haven’t officially signed yet.

“Jona mentioned that. You want a trial training session?”

“It’s the right thing to do” you didn’t want any special treatment. You wanted to earn the right to play for the club and not just be handed the contract.

“You could have not played football for 5 years and still run rings round all of us” Lucy knows you the most having played with her at both club and country. You were too humble in her eyes so she took it upon herself to remind you of your greatness from time to time.

“I never said I haven’t played football. That has been the thing to get me through the past 10 months” you didn’t mean to be a downer, in fact you didn’t know what you were saying until it was too late.

“How are you doing?” Keira asks from the front seat and you see Lucy eyeing you up in rear view mirror.

“Some days are harder than others and no day has been easy. She would be happy that I’m here though. She always said that if I didn’t go back to England then she’d want us to come here”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name.

“She always did hate the french winters” Lucy laughs at the memories she shared with your wife.

Your mind goes back to just a couple of years ago. Lyon were playing at home and the weather was awful. You saw Natalia in the crowd shivering but still she cheered you on, she always was your biggest fan. Come rain or shine, your girl was in the audience. You hated the thought of playing without her being in the crowd but you also knew she wouldn’t want to give up your career.

“Y/N” Keira gently nudged your knee. It was obvious that you were taking a trip down memory lane and she didn’t want to scare you.

“Huh” you quickly wiped away a tear “Oh we’re here” you grabbed your backpack and jumped out of the car leaving them in the front not knowing what to do.

“Let’s leave her be. She knows we are here and will come to us when she’s ready”

You were in awe as you walked the halls of Joan Camper. The things the team has achieved were that of greatness. It was a club that created legacys and you found yourself feeling something that you hadn’t in a long time; excitement.

Lucy and Keira lead you to the locker room just as they were instructed to. The rest of the team were already out of the field which was part of the plan. There hanging in a corner locker was a training kit for you. You didn’t expect it and you definitely didn’t expect to have been given your number.

“You did this?” You ask the pair.

“Salma did. The team knows you called Lucy and when Salma heard to locker room rumours of you joining she insisted. Between us she is a big fan of yours, bigger than Luce”

“Not possible” the defender joked.

The boots were fastened and you were ready, well almost ready. There was one thing you wasn’t prepared for. You looked down at your necklace. It was a simple gold chain that held two rings: yours and Talia’s.

“I can’t do it” you slumped down in defeat and bury your face in your hands.

“Hey” Lucy crouches down in front of you “they let us wear jewellery for training, you can keep them on”

You walked out onto the field and all eyes fell on you. You felt like a spectacle and you hated the attention. They didn’t know the current version of you, they had only met the old Y/N so you channel her and introduce yourself to them during the next drinks break.

“I know some of us have met as opponents but this is different. I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope I can keep up” you make a joke hoping to avoid the elephant in the room.

“We’ll see about that. I’m Alexia” She is the first person to you.

“Lovely to meet you Alexia”

It’s hard to explain the feeling when you’re playing football. It’s as if you mind switches off whilst also been completely focused. It take a few attempts to get into the rhythm that is Barcelona football but you catch on quickly. It comes as no shock to the rest of the team that you play in complete sync with Lucy and Keira. The two of them even stay back at the end to work with you on some movements that you weren’t pleased with.

Some players go shower but a few stay behind, albeit out of sight, and watch you.

“She has a gift” Alexia says to nobody in particular.

“Nobody has seen her in over a year and this is how she is playing. Look, she is running rings around them. How is that possible?” Patri adds.

“Does anybody know where she was?” Pina asks the small group.

“No but I could ask Ingrid or Caro to ask Ada. They are best friends and surely you would tell your best friend where you are going” Mapi forms a plan in her head, one that she will soon find out to be a bad idea.

“Do it” Alexia tells the defender “We are a family here and if she joins us then we have a right to know where she has been”

When Barcelona posted a photo of you signing a contract on their socials the world went crazy. The media were relentless and the fans were quick to show their support for you even though some were skeptical about your sudden reappearance and new team.

You ignored them for the most part as they had no idea what had happened. You fit into the team almost right away and was enjoying every game with Barcelona. You scored on your debut and had been involved in a goal every game since. Months had passed and much to your surprise you had only been asked about the missing year once or twice.

Caro refused to ask Ada about you and Ingrid only did when her girlfriend became obsessed with finding out the truth. Ada’s answer was simple ‘I won’t tell you and if she doesn’t want you to know then you should respect her wishes’.

You remained a mystery though and for the most part the team seemed to forget about your missing year.

When the second international window came that is when things changed and you felt like you made a friend. Mapi still wasn’t representing her country so she reached out and asked if you wanted to meet up for a coffee.

Anybody could easily be intimidated by the blonde but you liked her. She had this energy that made you know accepting her invite was a no brainer. That and you had questions of your own.

“How did you know?”

Mapi places down a a small coffee in a glass; a cortado.

“I asked Keira what you ordered”

A comfortable silence took over as the two of you sipped on your coffees. You found it funny the way Mapi looked at you then her coffee and back to you again. You recognised the signs; you were making her nervous. Why though you had no idea.

You decide to make the first move and you get straight to the point much to the defender’s surprise.

“I spoke with Ada”

This got her attention. You had your suspicions but the look on her face confirmed it. Still, she played along.

“That’s nice. You’re very close, no?” Mapi tried her best to look innocent but you weren’t having any of it and the look on your face told her that.

“She had an interesting conversation with Ingrid. Do you happen to know anything about this?”

She did. You know she did.

“No” you got a sheepish look from Mapi and you wondered if she knew how unconvincing she was being.

“I think you did. I think you got Ingrid to ask Ada about me”

“Lo siento”

“Here’s the thing I don’t understand. I know you all want to know, you’ve been whispering about me for months yet not one of you has come to me and asked me directly. You have been going behind my back trying to dig up information about a time that I clearly don’t want to talk about”

Mapi dips her head. She truly thought that her and the team were been careful but obviously not.

“Maria, I want you to put yourself in my shoes. Would you want to talk about it with strangers when you barely talk to your best friends about it?”

The defender thinks about it for a moment. You had barely left Lucy and Keira’s side but she hadn’t really heard you talking, you were always listening to what they were saying and replying when necessary.

“It was bad wasn’t it?” She asks.

“The worse year of my life” you confess and you can your throat close at the thought of the months in question.

“We are in jail?”

You cannot help but chuckle at her words.

“No, I was not in jail”

“Did you kill somebody?”

“No, I did not kill anybody”

“So no crimes were committed?”

“Is that what you have all come up with? That I broke the law?”

“Most of us, yes. Aitana think’s you were in the hospital because you were sick”

Her response came at the worst time possible. You spit your coffee out when you hear the midfielder’s suspicion.

Technically she was right. You were in the hospital but you weren’t in the hospital.

“I wasn’t sick”

“Clearly. Look at you, you’re huge. I mean you are big. No, you are strong”

“Calm down Mapi, I know what you mean. Thank you”

The two of you stay in the cafe for another hour. You take this time just the two of you getting to know one another. You ask Mapi about her tattoos and she learn’s you have a few of your own which are hidden on your back. When she asks for their meaning you promise you will tell her the stories another time.

You both walk to the metro station and by coincidence you end up of the same train. You get off before her and just before the door opens, Mapi grabs your hand.

“I’ll get them to stop. You don’t owe us an explanation, Y/N”

“Thank you Maria”

You’re not sure what the tattooed defender said but the whispers stopped or so you thought. They stopped whispering in front of you but little did you know the speculations were still going on behind your back. It is early in December when things come to a head and you snapped.

“What do you mean she is staying Spain?” Alexia asked Salma.

“That she is staying her in Barcelona. She said she might go to Valencia for a few days but that’s it” the forward wasn’t sure what to say or if she should have said anything at all.

“And you don’t think that is strange? This is woman who used to love England. The fans called her Queen of England, por dios. How can she be apart of this team if we know nothing about her. She is lying to us” Alexia ranted on and who knew how much longer she would have continued if not for Lucy interrupting her.

“Alexia, that is enough!” Lucy slams her fist on the locker before turning to her captain “She has come to this team and done nothing but good. She plays well for us and gives it her all on the pitch. Off it she makes the effort and yes sometimes she says no to things but isn’t that her right? You stand there as our captain but look at you, you’re nothing but a bully. I am ashamed to say i’m your team mate right now. That girl has been through hell these past couple of years and since coming here all you keep doing is reminding her of what has happened. You are obsessed with her. Look around, no one else is digging for information. No one is making her uncomfortable on a daily basis”

“She is lying to us. She won’t tell us where she was for over a year. She is hiding something and that isn’t fair on us” Alexia tried to defend her actions.

“Isn’t fair? Are you really that self centred? You have no right to talk about what is and is not fair. I don’t care if you are my captain, I won’t stand by you while you treat my best friend like she has done something wrong. You, Alexia, are a —“

“Lucy” The whole locker room turns upon hearing your voice “I have given up on Alexia, it’s time you do too”

“No! I won’t let her talk about you that way. You don’t deserve this”

“No I don’t but —“

“Y/N” Lucy begs you to let her fight you case.

“Walk away Lucy”

A stare down takes place between you and Lucy. A few seconds later the defender grabs her stuff and leaves the room. To everyone else you are calm and collected but Keira recognises the look in your eye, you are furious.

“I want everyone to listen to me and listen good. My past is none of your business. To those who have let the obsession go, thank you. To those that haven’t” you look Alexia dead in the eye “I want nothing to do with you. I will remain civil on the pitch. Other than that I ask you to stay away from me. That’s if you can respect my wishes. I know it has been hard so far”

You quietly gather your things and try to ignore the multiple sets of eyes on you. With each second you can feel your chest getting tighter and you know it is only a matter second before you will no longer be able to control your breathing. You just needed to get out of there, away from prying eyes.

The hallway is the furthest you get. Your mind was filled of flashbacks, the moments that you tried so hard to bury. The past was not a pretty place, not the last year, but you know that it was only a matter of time before it came crashing down on you.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Mapi and Ingrid are by your side, clearly the couple had left just after you.

“Natalia, she, she”

Ingrid and Mapi shared a look, who was Natalia? They had never heard you mention a Natalia before. Both of them didn’t know what to do. Whilst you had become friends with the pair, they didn’t know you well enough to cope with this moment.

Luckily for them Keira appears out of nowhere. The English woman clearly equipped with what to do.

“Get Lucy, now!” She whisper shouted and Ingrid goes running hoping to catch the defender before she leaves.

“Keira—Natalia”

“I know, I know. We can talk about her later if you want. Right now, I need to focus on me. Can you do that?”

You nod your head as tears flow down your cheeks.

“What happened?” Lucy rushes over to you.

“We found her on the floor. She kept talking about Natalia”

“She told you?” Lucy asks shocked. She knew you wasn’t ready to tell them team but in a state of panic you might be let it slip.

“No. She only said her name” Mapi says. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. This wasn’t a panic attack, no she had seen one of those before. This was something much more intense.

A few minutes pass and Keira manages to keep your breathing under control but you’re still not ready to move. Lucy, Mapi and Ingrid stay close making sure to tell anyone who passes to keep moving.

“What is going on?” Alexia asks with concern, a concern that doesn’t reach Lucy in fact her asking is the worst thing she could have done.

“Get away from her” Lucy is up on her feet and pushing Alexia backwards. She would has fallen to the floor if not for the wall behind her “This is all your fault. You see this, you see her, this is what you have done to her”

“Lucy” you reach up and take her hand. The defender used her strength to pull you up.

You, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid walk towards the exit of the stadium.

“Y/N” Alexia’s voice is soft and it is only now that she realises she might have taken things too far.

You turn around to face the Catalonian. For the first time since arriving you make no effort to hide the pain you have felt on a daily basis.

“I want nothing to do with you Alexia”

A week had passed and Alexia started to worry about you more so than she wanted to let on. Lucy and Keira were visibly worried about you and kept an eye on you at all times. She was confused at how things got this bad. Yes, she knew that maybe things had been taken too far but you didn’t show rage, your energy radiated nothing. You were numb. The Barcelona captain had no idea how to make things right with you.

You wore a smile on your face in front of the cameras and fans but behind closed doors it’s liked you switched your emotions off. Alexia asked Mapi about you but it seemed that even her closest friend was on your side. The zaragozian and her girlfriend had become close with you since the incident and Alexia didn’t understand why.

One night she found herself knocking on Mapi’s door hoping to find out how things got so bad.

When the captain was let in there is an evident scowl on Ingrid’s face which Alexia did not expect. The Norwegian excuses herself stating that she needed to go to the supermarket.

“Mentiroso” Alexia says to herself.

“Watch it Alexia. She has her reasons” Mapi jumped to her girlfriend’s defence.

Mapi leads Alexia over to the kitchen table and gets a glass of water for the two of them.

“You’re here about Y/N, aren’t you?” her captain nods “I don’t know what to tell you. What happened in the locker room was bad Ale. We didn’t leave the stadium when you thought we did. Y/N used everything in her to make sure Lucy didn’t do something she would regret. I don’t know what happened during those months but whatever we think it is, it’s so much worse. I shouldn’t be telling you this but she kept mentioning Natalia, I don’t know who that is but I think something happened to her”

Alexia thought she felt guilty about the way things went down with the two of you but that failed in comparison to how she was feeling now. To think that you were grieving someone and her questions were it worse for you, well it made her feel ashamed.

She knew that she hadn’t been the most welcoming. Yes, you and her got a long on the pitch and yes, you were ok at training but she hadn’t made the effort she should have to make you feel at home in Barcelona.

“I don’t know how to fix it Mapi. You know I like her, I think she is amazing—“

“You were her biggest fan” the blonde teased

“But what if I’ve ruined any chance for being friends with her? What if what I’ve done is undoable?” Alexia ignores Mapi comment seen as though she knows she cannot deny it.

Mapi was at a loss for words. She always has had her friend’s back but there was something about you which made her want to protect you and Alexia was someone that you needed protection from.

“You need to give her space Alexia. This week alone I have seen you walk towards her then walk away at least 6 times. Y/N even asked me why you were doing it. You’re making the girl feel uncomfortable”

Alexia mentally scolded herself for her behaviour which in her defence she did not think anyone noticed.

“So space?” Alexia asks.

“Space” Mapi confirmed.

Alexia found it hard at first because she wanted nothing more than to make things right with you but she did as suggested, she gave you space. She saw you start to come out of your shell a bit more as December rolled on. The day game before the Christmas break you were playing in Madrid and that is when Alexia heard you discussing your winter plans with Keira.

“Keira, that’s a sweet offer but I’m sure. I’m going to stay in Barcelona, it is my home now”

The Catalonian took a little comfort in knowing you had grown the love her city despite the hostile behaviour.

“Y/N, it’s Christmas. She would want you to be home for that” your friend asked.

“I don’t know if I can handle going back for Christmas. It would hurt too much”

It felt wrong for Alexia to eavesdrop on your conversation so she leaves out of respect.

“She wouldn’t want you to avoid England. The two of you spent years in France and both of you said coming home to England was your favourite thing to do”

“Keira, stop. It was our favourite thing. There is no more our, no us. It’s just me”

Keira could see your hands shaking. This is the first sign of your panic attack so she drops the subject. She does suggest you going away with them for new years and you said you would as long as it isn’t in the UK or France.

The team had one last recovery session before the winter break and it’s safe to say when it was done everyone was more than happy to go home. You wished everyone a Merry Christmas and without knowing it, Alexia is included.

“Feliz Navidad Alexia, por tu y tu familia”

“Gracias Y/N”

To Alexia this was a gift in itself. Maybe you were opening up to idea of forgiving her. After that you quickly grab your stuff and run off to where Ingrid was waiting for you.

After that interaction, Alexia couldn’t stop thinking about you. She also thought she was hallucinating when she saw your name appear on her phone screen. In the rush of leaving the training facility you picked up the wrong bag, only realising when got home a few hours later and your shirt had an 11 on instead of a 7. You texted Alexia asking if you could meet up to get your stuff back. Alexia, at that point was already at her mother’s house so she sent you that address and told her mum that you were coming over.

You tried to ease your nervous as you drove to your captain’s mother’s house. It was going to be awkward, this much you knew but regardless of the place you and Alexia were in, you wanted to make a good impression on her family.

The knock was gentle as you stop on the door step.

“Y/N, hola. Adelante”

You didn’t know that word meant but you put two and two together and guessing in meant come in so that is what you did. Eli leads you to the living room after telling Alba to go get her sister. Eli headed back into the kitchen and left you in the living room. You didn’t want to take a seat, it wasn’t that kind of visit so you looked around and a wall of photos gains your attention.

Alexia couldn’t have been more than 7 years old. She was adorable. Next to her stood her younger sister and behind her, her parents. You didn’t recognise the man so you assume Alexia’s father works away a lot as you have never seen him at a game.

“That’s Jaume, Alexia and Alba’s father” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught stooping.

“And your husband” you turn to face the woman “I haven’t seen him around, does he work in a different city?”

“Jaume passed away a little over ten years ago”

She is a widow, like you. That is the first thing you thought. In that moment you had so many questions for her but this is a woman you had only just met. It’s not exactly the small talk she would be expecting. The two of you go quiet and you guess she is thinking about her lost love, just as you are thinking about yours.

Alexia comes downstairs, your bag in hand but stops at the door was upon seeing you in conversation with her mother. Alba nudges her forward but she doesn’t move. The two of them watch you.

“Does it ever get easier?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.

The two sisters share a look. They had no idea what you were talking about and by their mother’s response, she didn’t either.

“Que?” As expected, the question catches Eli off guard.

“Living without the person who promised you forever” you turn to face the older woman with tears falling down your cheek.

“Oh Querida, come here”

You feel comfort in her arms and for a brief few seconds you forget that she is a stranger. In this moment she is someone who understands your pain and that is more than enough for you. When you pull away you see Alexia and Alba, you feel extremely exposed.

“Hi. You must be Alba” you wipe the last of your tears and extend your hand towards the younger Putellas.

She swats away your hand and pulls you into a hug.

“So formal” Alba laughs “you’re even hotter in person”

“Alba!” Both Eli and Alexia scold her.

“What? I’m being honest”

“Thank you, I think. Is that mine?” You point the bad Alexia is holding.

“Yes. Sorry for the mix up”

“No, no. It was my fault. I was running late for dinner with Ingrid. I left yours in the hall as I wasn’t sure where to put it”

Alexia stared at you almost as if frozen in place.

“Was I not suppose to do that? I can go get it for you”

“This is the most you’ve spoken to me since joining” Alexia was honest with what she was thinking.

“It must be the Christmas air” you laugh a little “speaking of, you three clearly have plans so I will leave you be”

Eli tries to get you to stay but you can’t. The woman knew too much and even though shared the same pain, you knew it was only a matter of time before the pity eyes came. You also didn’t know how much the two sisters had heard.

Alexia asked and asked what the you and her mother were talking about but the woman refused to tell. The only answer Alexia got was to be careful with you and that not all is as it seems. It seemed to be enough for Alexia but she wasn’t giving up on you, not just yet.

She kept an eye on you over the Christmas break and just as you said you stayed in Barcelona. Alexia all but stalked your Instagram and even went as far as texting you some recommendations. You felt something towards the midfielder and it made you think that you might have been a little harsh on her. You made a mental reminder to speak to her once the break was over.

The first game back was away to Bilbao and it brought you the perfect opportunity to speak to Alexia as the two of you were roomed together. It was late by the time you got there so everyone went straight to their room.

“Oh Y/N I don’t know what happened” Alexia says as she swiped the room key.

“What are you — oh I see”

There was only one bed, albeit a large double bed.

You hadn’t shared a bed in almost a year and you wasn’t sure if you were ready for it. Now you had to find a way to explain this to Alexia.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” Alexia suggests and even though you weren’t ready, you also knew you wasn’t going to let her do that.

“Alexia you are one of the most important players on the team. I cannot let you sleep on the floor. Take the bed, I’ll take the floor”

“Y/N, you are important too. You are our highest goal scorer. I am taking the floor, don’t argue with your captain”

She refused to take no for an answer and you hated it. When you came out the shower Alexia was on the floor and it looked awful. It was almost funny and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t say anything. Bed” Alexia laughed along with you.

The room was dark except from the street lights then peaked through the curtains. Sleep wasn’t coming easy to you and by the sounds of tossing and turning, Alexia was struggling too.

“Alexia, come sleep in the bed” The thought of having someone sleep next to you wasn’t something you necessarily wanted but Alexia sleeping on the floor wasn’t fair.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable”

There was something in her tone. She wasn’t talking about sharing the bed with a team mate, she was talking about sharing a bed in general.

“She told you” Eli had to have told alexia about your conversation.

“Who?” Alexia asked even though she knew you were talking about her mother.

“Your mother. She told you about what I said”

“I asked but she didn’t tell me anything. I’m sorry that something happened to your friend”

You sat up upon hearing her condolences.

“My friend. What are you talking about?”

Alexia, now sat up too, looked at you as if saying you know what I’m talking about.

“Natalia?”

She said her name. Nobody had said her name. They knew it would cause too much pain.

In that moment you are brought back to the last time someone said her name. It was the 5 November 2023 in a hospice not to far from your shared home in London. Natalia was the strongest woman you knew and no one would ever come close to her in your eyes. Yet just after Euros she told you that her time was coming, that the cancer was starting to win. You begged her to fight, you weren’t ready to lose her but you knew that you had been on borrowed time for many many years. The last person to say her name was a nurse as your wife took her final breath before she was called home.

“She was my wife” you could feel your nose twitch as a ball of emotion built in your throat. You knew the day was coming when you talked about her but you didn’t think it would come in Bilbao with Alexia now sitting at the foot of your bed.

The Catalonian knew she heard you correctly but she still sat in disbelief. She had no idea you were dating anyone let alone you were married. Alexia could do nothing but watch as you bury your head in your hand as your body racks with sobs. She wants to hug you, to hold you and to tell you to let it out but you weren’t that close.

When you aggressively wipe your eyes you notice Alexia looking prettified and you cannot help but burst of into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to go get Lucy or Keira or anyone else who isn’t me” your captain panics and makes a bee line for the door. She is stopped in her tracks as your hand grabs her wrist.

“You don’t have to”

She didn’t believe you and that was made obvious as her eyes dart back and forward between you and the door.

“Isn’t this what you have been wanting? To know why I walked away” you pat the side of the bed next to you.

You saw the hesitation is Alexia’s eyes. In that moment she wanted to respect your boundaries and you appreciated that but for the first time in a while the thought of talking about Natalia didn’t make you feel like you would break.

Once she sat down you turn to face you and you saw the look many people had given you. She felt sorry for you.

“I didn’t know you were married”

“Not many people did. We never hid anything. If you look you’ll see her in a lot of photos, she always supported me” you get comfy knowing that this is going to be a long conversation “I’m a private person and all I ever wanted to do was protect her”

In that moment Alexia understood for she too was a private person. She knew that she was in the limelight but she still kept herself to herself off the pitch.

“How did she—“ Alexia stopped talking as soon as she realised what she was about to ask “sorry, I shouldn’t have said that”

“Leukemia” you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three “she first got it when she was six. We used to take the day off school to go to the hospital. She would call me her emotional support friend” you laugh as you remember the way she made you wear a badge “she won the battle only for it to come back when she was 16 then again at 28. The third battle was the hardest for her and it was the one she lost”

Alexia caught the way you couldn’t look at her whilst you talked about the hardest times of your wife’s life.

“She sounds like a strong woman”

“Oh she was the strongest. She went through so much yet you never would have known it. Natalia had this heart that was big enough to like up the whole world. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her. She supported me in the youths teams, was in the stands when I made my Arsenal debut and moved to France with me when I signed for Lyon. She said she’s followed me everywhere because she knew I’d be lost with her”

When Alexia sees you laughing, she joins in too.

“Things got bad just before the euros. I was so close to withdrawing but she begged me to go. She wanted to see me lift that trophy and I did, I did it for her. I didn’t know how bad it was until afterwards and I made the decision to be by her side. We did all the things on her bucket list. A couple of months later she couldn’t fight it anymore. Her strength was gone and the light was barely there. I was able to be by her side as she took her last breath”

Alexia didn’t stop you as you got off the bed and made your way towards the window. She could tell by the way your hand went straight to your face that you were crying.

“You wanted to know why I walked about?” You turned to face her and in that moment, knowing what she did, Alexia felt guilty. Guilty for reminding you of the loss you had suffered.

“I walked away because I didn’t feel like I had a purpose. For so many years I played for her. I scored to see a smile on her face and I won my trophies so that I can give her my medals. I couldn’t return to Lyon without her and it felt wrong being in England”

“Y/N I’m —“

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. You didn’t kill her, the cancer did”

You hated it when people told you they were sorry for your loss. Why? Why are they sorry? You heard it so many times that it made you numb.

Alexia could tell that you were feeling a lot right now. She wanted to be there if you wanted to talk more about Natalia but she also knew the importance of changing the subject when it’s needed.

“Can I ask you a question?” She looked at you with a sincere gaze.

“You can. Is it about Na—“

Alexia shakes her head.

“Why Barcelona?”

It is a question that she had been desperate to know. You have now told her why you weren’t ready to go back to Lyon but plenty of teams would have offered you a contract if you announced your return.

“I said it wasn’t about her but turns out it was. Talia loved Spain and Barcelona was her favourite place. I honestly thought I would retire at Lyon but she always said that if she could pick a team I play for them she would choose Barcelona. When I decided to come back, it felt right to sign for Barcelona. Also, Lucy and Keira are here. As you have seen, I have depended on them quite a bit and I knew that it wouldn’t be easy so having someone who knew made everything easier”

You could see Alexia processing what you had told her.

“I’m happy you don’t play for Lyon anymore”

“Yeah, you might be able to beat them now”

Alexia stared you down and you wondered what her next move would be. Turns out you didn’t have to wait long because a pillow soon smacked you in the face.

You both burst into laughter when the pillow fight turns competitive.

“We really should be getting some sleep” Alexia says as she stands.

You took a second to think.

“You can sleep in the bed Alexia. I won’t freak out you know”

“Y/N I can’t. Not now”

“Oh stop. I’m not some fragile little doll that will break if she shares a bed with someone. Now get in bed”

You pull the duvet back and pat the bed. It is only when Alexia gets in that you realise she is on your side and you are on Talia’s.

“You know this is my side of the bed” Alexia says as she gets comfy.

You had your reasons for sleeping on that side. You want to be closest to the door in case someone broke in. You wonder if Alexia has a reason.

“Got to make sure no one comes in and kidnaps you. Buenas noches Y/N”

You fall asleep that night with ease. You no longer feel the weight of keeping your emotions at bay and having Alexia knowing the truth makes you feel at ease around her for the first time since you joined the club.

From that day on things were different between you and Alexia. You found yourself spending more time with her than you did with Lucy and Keira. The two of them found it strange but didn’t question it. Whilst the defender was still very much protective over you, she did see a change in her captain which lead to her giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Life in Barcelona was finally what you imagined. Even in January the sun was shining and the sky was blue, unlike the weather you have been used to. The pain in your heart was still there but for the first time in a long whilst you felt happy or at least the closest thing to it that you could feel. Alexia has invited you to family dinner which happened after every other home game. Her mother and sister made you feel welcome. You had become rather close with Eli as she would often reach out to talk to you and check in with you. She didn’t need to say much, the fact that she could understand was more than enough.

Alba was quite the character and there was never a dull moment with her. She would relentless tease her sister and it had you holding stomach with laughter.

You had received some calls that made you think about a few things. You thought about talking to Lucy and Keira about it but you knew their decision would be biased so you confided in Alexia one night as the two of you walked Nala along Barceloneta. She helped you work though the feelings that the question brought up and by the the time you arrived back to your apartment, which you learnt was in the building opposite to hers, you knew what your decision would be.

During the game against Atleti there was a certain Dutchwoman in attendance. It was the second to last game before the Nations league semi final, a game that England has got to by the skin of their teeth. Barcelona came away with a 2-0 win and a lot of the players stayed out on the pitch afterwards to greet the fans that came to support them.

Sarina stood near the locker room and praised the team as they entered.

“Are you here for Lucy and Keira?” Aitana asked as she walked down the hall.

Behind her walked the two English women, along with Alexia. The latter knew to expect her, it made sense for her to come see you in person. The other two clearly had no idea that their national team coach was coming.

“She isn’t here for them”

Alexia’s words cause Lucy and Keira’s heads to turn in surprise.

“Y/N’s still out on the pitch. She is playing with Irene’s son Matteo, shall I go get her?”

“No, I can wait”

Just as three of them were about to enter they hear your voice followed by a child’s laughter. You walked down the tunnel with Irene and her little boy. Sarina saw just how happy you were and for a brief moment she regretted coming. She questioned whether or not this is what is best for you.

“Gaffa” you saw the look on your team mates faces and chuckled. Surely they knew it was only a matter of time before Sarina came knocking “Let me get showered quickly and we will go”

“But we’re going out tonight. It’s team night” Aitana sulked.

“I’ll meet you guys there”

Alexia and you shared a look. She knew what this conversation was going to be about and she was pretty sure she knew what the outcome would be and she was worried. You squeezed her shoulder and smiled before going into the locker room.

It was over 3 hours later that you finally enter the restaurant that the team were eating at.

All heads turned to you as you walked through the door. The seat reserved for you happened to be next to Alexia which you don’t think was an accident. Lucy and Keira were sat opposite you and you see the look of suspense in their eyes. They hadn’t officially been told what you and Sarina were talking about but they had very good guesses.

The rest of the team were having their own conversations and you didn’t want to make a scene so you nodded your head and that was enough confirmation for them.

“Yes!!” Lucy stood up suddenly and slammed her hands on the table.

“Holy fuck. Lucia, sit down”

Lucy does as her told.

“Our captain is back” Keira said to herself.

You tried your best to include yourself in the conversations around you but your mind kept wandering. You found yourself staring off into the distance. It is only when you feel a gentle hand on your thigh do you realise just how spaced out you were.

“Is everything ok? Did your coach say something because if she did then—“

“Stand down Ale” Alexia’s eye soften at the nickname. It wasn’t a new one for her but you had only just started calling her it and she loved it “I’m just thinking is all. What if I’m not good enough? What if I don’t have a place in that team anymore?” You lean into her and whisper.

“Y/N, they are your team. Yes you took some time away but you lead them for a long time and you told me they knew your reasons. It might take some time to get back into things but you will soon be back to how you were before. Besides if things go well for both of us then we will have a World Cup rematch on our hands and I want to see what might have happened if you played in the summer”

Oh you didn’t think about that. You hadn’t given your upcoming opponents a second thought. Alexia was right. If England beat France then they will face Spain in the national league final.

You thought there might be some awkwardness when you walked through the doors at the England camp but you couldn’t have been more wrong. Each player welcomed you with open arms and the players that you didn’t know as much treated you like everyone else did.

There were a few moments when you got pulled aside by Sarina for what she called her mental health checks. She promised that nothing said between you would be told to anyone else and you chose to believe her. You were honest about how heavy the shirt felt when it had the England badge on and you told her of the nerves you were feeling about playing for your country again.

Alexia had kept texting you to check in and for the most part you told her the truth. It was the day before the match when you got overwhelmed and instead of lying, you chose to ignore her. You knew it wasn’t fair but wanted to stay focused. You could bury your feelings for 24 hours. Alexia on the other had wasn’t going to give up on you.

“Alexia” Jenni nudged her friends leg “Earth to Alexia”

The woman in question had her eyes glued to the her phone as you sent you yet another message.

“What do you want!” Alexia snaps.

“Hey, don’t snap at me. Who you texting? Is it a girl?” Jenni peaked over her shoulder.

“No” Alexia pulled her phone closer to her chest “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N Y/L/N is a girl last time I checked” Jenni couldn’t help but tease.

“She but I don’t like her like that, well I do. Wait! I don’t” Alexia slumps down in her seat “Oh Jenni, I don’t know how I feel”

Jenni hasn’t seen her friend like this in a long while. Normally Alexia knows what wants and isn’t afraid to go for it. This though is different. It’s almost like she knows what she wants but she is hesitating and Alexia doesn’t hesitate.

“It’s ok not to know but something is clearly bothering you. What is it?”

“She is ignoring me”

“Last time I saw you you told me she didn’t want anything to do with you”

So much had changed since then and she didn’t know how to explain it. In the end she told her everything she could without going into the finer details. Alexia confesses her feelings and explains that she cannot get a hold of you and that none on your team mates were answering either.

“Alexia, I may not know why she stopped playing football but I saw the way she played, she loves the sport. Her playing for England again is a big deal. Everyone is talking about her press conference she did this morning, it’s all over social media”

Alexia wasn’t aware of a press conference. She never goes on social media the day before a match because it is quite often a distraction. Jenni picks up on her friend’s obliviousness and gives alexia her phone so she can see what is being said.

Jenni was right. You are everywhere.

Y/N Y/L/N makes her return but what does it mean? Why now?

Sarina Weigman confirm Y/N is the captain of this team despite turning her back on them.

Beth Mead ruled out for Semi final, should be back for final if England are successful.

World Cup rematch? Y/N says that Spain wouldn’t have won if she was playing.

Alexia read headline after headline, article after article. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed so she couldn’t imagine what you must have been feeling. The last headline made the Catalonian laugh because she too had thought about what the outcome might have been if you were playing.

“I think the last one is a stretch” Jenni mumbles.

“We will never know” Alexia is ever more determined to get a hold of you. Just as she was about to call you again, a message comes through.

Hi. Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s been a lot. Thank you for checking in on me Alexia, I promise you I’m ok. Good luck in your match tomorrow.

“She’s ok” Alexia tells Jenni as if the forward was the one who was worried about you.

The next day you wake up and are ridden with nerves. It’s not a familiar feeling and you know that you need to calm down before the game or things will end badly.

Despite protests from your team mates, you will start the game on the bench. It’s the right decision and you make sure to tell Sarina just that. Whilst the team’s recent performances have been spotty to say the least, you refuse to walk back in like nothing had changed. You know you need to earn your place on the pitch with the lionesses.

Spain’s game has an early kick off and finishes just after yours starts. The team get back to the hotel and have organised to watch it the hotel bar. Much to Alexia’s dismay she is called for Media seen as though Spain won and have qualified for the Olympics.

When she finally joins the team she knows that the first half is over but that’s it.

“What’s the score?” She asks anyone who is listening.

“2–0” Ona says.

“That’s—“ Alexia is cut off before she can finish her sentence.

“To Germany” Jenni knows that Alexia would have wanted England to win if for no other reason than you “Y/N is going on for Toone”

She cannot help the smile that tugs at her lips as your number goes on the subs board.

The world watches as Mary runs over to you and gives you the band.

“Welcome back skipper” Mary pushes the band up your arm before you can stop her because she know’s that is what you’ll do. She was there in the captain’s meeting when you told Sarina that you didn’t deserve the captaincy.

“Game on, Maz”

It felt right being on the pitch and wearing the three lions crest. You allow yourself to take in your return but only for a couple of seconds before you turn your attention to the game and the challenge that you face. 3 goals was a lot to ask for when Germany are playing as good as they are. It wouldn’t be easy and it would take everything you had but you never shied away from a challenge and you wasn’t about to start now.

After about ten minutes you found your rhythm and England were playing the type of football they are known for. It doesn’t take long for LJ to make a run and dance around the opposition. You have faith in her but follow her anyways in case she loses the ball. She doesn’t but Frohms does save her shot, she doesn’t save your rebound though.

“Get the ball” You shout to the Chelsea player.

When the match restarts, the lionesses are on the hunt. Shot after shot is taken but somehow the ball stays out the net. England get a corner in the 80 minute and you’re lurking on the edge of the box, ready to make your run. Popp is the one marking you because she has studied you new way of play since joining Barcelona. Chloe’s corner is pin point and no amount of research in the world could stop you from getting the second goal and tying the game.

Alexia finds herself up on her feet with Ona and a couple of your team mates when you get your brace.

“Vamos Y/N” she says.

“You do realise that we will face them if they win” Misa reminds her.

“Right now, I don’t care. She deserves this and I’m celebrating my team mate” Alexia didn’t care if she might face you in the final.

“She told you” Aitana whispers as she pulls her captain down to the sofa “That is why she doesn’t hate you anymore and why you’ve stopped interrogating her”

Alexia does nothing but nod. Her fellow midfielder didn’t need to know anything else and she doesn’t ask for it either. She accepts that the reason must be valid if Alexia has dropped her questions.

There are 4 minutes announced of stoppage time.

When you look up the the score board and see the number you get flashbacks on the euros final. You have been in this position before and came out victorious. Today was going to be no different.

It was huge mistake by Germany when Gwinn takes down Hemp about a meter outside the box.

In the past you have found yourself stood over the ball with Beth but this game it’s Alex who stands beside you.

With her hand over her mouth she gives you strict instructions.

“You’re taking it”

It’s not a question and you don’t argue.

“You have saved us tonight, now get your hattrick”

The amount of faith Alex had in you did wonders but it didn’t settle every nerve running through your body. Free kicks were your specialty, this wasn’t nothing new and the pressure was a familiar feeling.

As soon as you strike the ball you know it’s going in. It’s a hard feeling to describe but many call it shooters instinct, it had never been wrong and it wasn’t now. The ball floated over the wall and went in the further part of the top corner. The shot was unsaveable. You ran over to the bench, more specifically to Sarina, to celebrate with the woman who gave you space and welcomed you back with open arms.

“It’s like you never left”

Her words caught you off guard. For a brief moment you agreed with her but you got hit by the feeling of grief, you looked towards the family section and there was no one supporting you. Maybe some things hadn’t changed but a lot certainly has. When the full time whistle was blown your team mates ran towards you, all of the congratulating you on your performance and your first game back.

It was a weird kind of celebrations that night. The team was split, half wanted to celebrate getting through the final and the other half knew the job wasn’t done, they knew that the biggest task was yet to be faced. Spain had beaten them before and on the greatest stage, the UEFA national league final could either repeat history and England could rewrite it.

The team travelled to Madrid that night, only hours after the game. Upon arrival almost everyone went to their rooms but not you. You knew sleep wouldn’t come easy so you decided to wander the streets of Madrid. It had become a habit of yours, you would walk around and people watch. Every human had their own story to tell and it made you forget about yours.

You had no destination planned yet you found yourself stopping outside a hotel, the one you know from your text messages with Alexia, was the one the Spain team was staying at.

A lot of feelings were running through you and you saw this as the universe’s sign that maybe you should talk about them. You have confided in Alexia since Sarina first reached out to you, she knew more than anyone how you really felt about returning and you talked about this very moment, the hours after your first game when the past is very much present in your mind. You remember the words she told you ‘when that happens you call me’ so that is what you do or at least that is what you go to do.

“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice say. You turn to see Jenni, Irene, Laia and Misa walking towards you.

“Hi guys” your voice is quiet, shy almost and you cannot help the way your eyes scan for Alexia knowing full well that these are the people she spends the most time with.

“What are you doing here?” Misa asks you. The two of you hadn’t formally been introduced but you had scored a brace against her in the El Classico.

“I’m—“

“Here for Alexia” Jenni says with a knowing look and you cannot help but feel like she knows something you don’t.

You can only nod. Apart from Irene, you didn’t know these girls very well and the version of yourself that you show to strangers is very different to the one that your friends see.

‘I can take you to her. We are roommates” Jenni seems sincere with her words but you feel a pang of jealousy. Everybody knew that the two of them used to date, it shouldn’t bother you, you had no right to be jealous yet that is exactly what you were feeling.

You think about it and Jenni can tell you are thinking about it.

“She hasn’t stopped talking about you and I know she will want to see you. She was your biggest fan when we watched the game” Jenni added hoping to create some sense of comfortability.

“She watched my game?” You asked in disbelief. You thought you had no one but maybe you did, maybe Alexia was the someone that was cheering you on but instead of the family area she was cheering you on from the hotel you were currently standing outside of.

“She did. I think she forgot she was Spanish for a minute” Irene says which causes you to laugh.

“I doubt that but I appreciate the support. You know I shouldn’t be talking to you, you guys are the enemy now”

“Yet you came here for our captain, she will be your enemy too. Come on, I’ll take you to her. We wouldn’t want you to be spotted outside our hotel, just think of the optics” Jenni once again says.

“Ok” you nod your head a few times to solidify your answer.

The girls lead you through the hotel but only Jenni and Irene stay with you, Misa and Laia walk ahead. The longer you walk the more you begin wondering if this was a good idea. What if you are overstepping your boundaries. You had no right to be here and could easily be turned away at any point.

You enter the lounge area of the hotel which holds the majority of the Spanish national team yet your eyes search for only one. She see’s you before you see her and is walking over to you with a worried look on her face.

“Estas bien? What are you doing here?” Alexia’s arm rests on your shoulder.

“It was an accident. I was out for a walk and I ended up here” you explained.

“She was asking for you” Jenni says even though technically it wasn’t true. In her eyes she wanted to play matchmaker after it was made evidently clear that Alexia was hesitant to peruse things with you even though she had feelings for you.

“Is this true?” Alexia asks and you nod.

“We won, I returned, I scored, wore the armband and I didn’t have anyone is stands” you whispered so only she could hear you.

The look in your eyes changed. For the first time that night you showed your true emotions. Alexia didn’t need to hear anything else. She grabbed your hand and escorted you to the outdoor seating area. She sat down whilst your paced the patio.

“Y/N, come sit down” Alexia pats the seat next to her and you comply “Are you ok, really? What made you come here to me?”

“I’m not ok but I’m more ok than I thought I would be. It’s been quite a day, that game was —“

“Incredible. You changed the entire play”

“It felt right. I belong on the pitch with the girls, I should never have left” You didn’t register that you felt guilty about your absence until you said the words out loud to Alexia.

“You needed to. You had to process your loss and you returned when you were ready”

Alexia was very understanding, you had to give her that.

“That answers my first question but the second” the Catalonian didn’t want to push but there had to be a reason and until she heard the truth she was filled with worry. You had been walking the streets of Madrid, alone, at almost midnight.

“Why am I here?” You repeated it. Maybe you hoped that hearing the question again would help you figure out an answer, it did “I wanted to celebrate…….with you. I was surrounded by my team, people I consider family yet you were the one I wanted to call and tell about the game”

You dipped your head when you felt yourself getting emotional. You were suppose to be happy but with everything you were feeling you were overwhelmed. On top of what you were feeling you couldn’t ignore the way your heart beat twice as fast because Alexia was sat opposite you with her hand now resting on your thigh.

When you looked up Alexia noticed the the tears in your eyes and was quick to wipe away one when it fell.

“I shouldn’t be feeling this way Alexia, it is wrong” you met her eye as you made your version of a confession.

“You can be happy about playing football again Y/N. Natalia would have wanted you to be”

“Don’t say her name, not now” you shook your head and Alexia’s hand fell back to its prior place on your thigh.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I can give you space if that what you need” the blonde stands, ready to leave you be but you grab her hand and pull her back down.

“I don’t want space and that is the problem. I wasn’t talking about the game Alexia. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about you” you shook your head in disbelief. You were sure that your shot of happiness died with your wife but you have developed feelings for Alexia and could no longer deny it.

“Y/N” Alexia cupped your face so that you would look at her but when you did, her hand didn’t move.

“Ale” you melted into her touch. That very touch gave you butterflies and you enjoyed the act of intimacy.

The two of you went silent but each of your thoughts were very loud. Alexia glanced at your lips, you knew what she was about to do and you didn’t stop her. Maybe you should have, maybe you should have pulled away but you didn’t. You didn’t move when her lips hovered centimetres from your own, you let her kiss you. You froze in the moment, like a deer in headlights. It was only when you closed your eyes did you realise what was happening. The kiss felt like you were cheating, it felt wrong yet felt so right.

“You shouldn’t have done that. We can’t do this. It was wrong” you pushed Alexia away and stood up hastily.

You stormed away before Alexia had the chance to speak. All eyes were on you as you walked through the sea of Spanish players. Their eyes went from you and then to Alexia who was running through, trying to catch up to you. She was hot on your heels until you turned to face her. She waited a couple of seconds before taking steps towards you.

“Stop” you say but she doesn’t “No!” you held you arm out to further imply your seriousness.

After that she can do nothing else but watch you walk away from her. Her hazel eyes stayed on you until you were out the lobby doors and onto the streets of the Spanish capital.

Alexia was frozen in place. She has ruined everything by rushing but she felt something when she touched you, she felt a spark and that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t feel the same thing she did. You told her that had feelings for her, you came all this way to see her. Those things meant something but maybe she had read it wrong, maybe it had all been in her head.

“Alexia, are you ok? You’re crying” Irene appeared in front of her. The woman in question was quick to wipe her eyes in hope that no one else would see her tears.

“I’m fine. It’s getting late, everyone should go to their rooms. We have a final to prepare for and we need to be at our best” Alexia walked away.

The two of you were very quiet in the upcoming days and were laser focused on the task at hand. Beat the opposing team and being the first even UEFA Nations League champions. Both of your team mates could tell something was wrong but they didn’t know what to do. Your team mates wasn’t aware of your late night adventures until Aitana texted Keira to ask if you were ok and told her that Alexia wasn’t after you showed up at their hotel. The English midfielder kept this to herself given that Lucy has only just got started talking to Alexia and there were a few players on the team who’s protectiveness could rival the defenders.

By the time the day of the final came around there was plenty of reason for concern but both teams knew that this is what you had been working towards. Yes, a trophy was on the line but it was the previous trophy that was the topic of conversation.

The first time Alexia saw you was when they arrived for the pitch inspection. You were near the goal with LJ, it has become a new pre match routine for the two of you. Well you did it the game a couple of days ago and you won that so the two of you gravitated towards the goal today.

Alexia wanted to go to you and that is what she was going to do until she felt a hand grab her wrist.

“Alexia”

She turned to face Keira.

“Leave her be”

“I didn’t mean to upset her. We were talking about feelings and then I kissed her, I couldn’t help it. It felt right in the moment” Alexia couldn’t stop talking. It’s like was making a confession and Keira would be the one deciding whether or not it was a sin.

Meanwhile the English midfielder couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Sure she had suspected something was going on between the two of you but she also had a strong sense that you wasn’t ready for anything knew. In her eyes you were still healing.

“You kissed her?” Keira whispered as not to bring attention to their conversation.

Alexia was about to explain further but Keira stopped her as she sure her other team mate coming towards them.

“Lucy is coming. I will talk to you about this later”

It was as if Keira flipped a switch. Her look of concern was replaced with a smile and she even put on a fake laugh so Lucy wouldn’t arrive to an awkward silence. Soon enough it was a gathering of Barcelona players yet Alexia could stay focused on what her friends were saying for you were beginning to walk towards her.

In your eyes you wanted to talk to Alexia and you knew you needed to. The other night was a lot for you to process but you did owe her an explanation for leaving, that much you did know. She looked good as you watched her enter the pitch. You let your eyes linger in the most discreet way possible.

“You and Putellas?” LJ asked you. She wasn’t aware of what happened, nor did she know you were married. In her eyes, you were hiding something and she wasn’t wrong.

“We are friends…..I think. It’s complicated” you admitted knowing that Lauren wouldn’t push you further.

“Uncomplicate it” she suggested.

“If only it was that easy. Let’s head in and get ready”

You felt the change in heartbeat again as you got closer to where Alexia was standing. Your head might have been all over the place but you heart was being very clear in what it wanted only you weren’t ready to admit it.

“Y/N” Alexia shouted to you as you walked past her.

“Hi” for whatever reason, you pulled her into a hug “Good luck today, you’re going to need it”

You both started laughing at the quick change of energy.

“I don’t think it’s us that need luck. We beat you in the summer” Alexia was cocky but she wasn’t confident.

“You didn’t beat me though” you couldn’t help but smile at her.

Your smile was genuine and that is something Alexia took great hope in seeing. Maybe you weren’t mad at her, maybe you just needed a little space.

What you said next doubled that hope.

“Come find me after the game”

Then just as quick as the hope was there, it wasn’t.

“We need to talk”

Those 4 words struck fear in Alexia but she didn’t have the chance to say anything because you were already down the tunnel by the time she came to her senses.

Your was brought up several times in the Spanish locker room and each time all eyes fell to Alexia for she is the one that knew you most. She had learnt how you think, what plays you are going to make before you make them. In her team’s eyes she knew how to stop you. Only it wasn’t that easy. Alexia did knew how you play but that style changes when you are hungry, like you have a point to prove and this game brought both of those things.

“Stop focusing on Y/N! If you focus on how to stop her then you��ve already lost. Focus on stopping her from getting the ball” That is the last thing she said before heading out into the tunnel.

The lionesses were waiting for her, she expected it. It was an intimidation tactic. You weren’t there and that was a surprise, she would have bet good money that you would be in the starting 11. Mary stood opposite her and smirked when she saw the look of bewilderment on the opposing players face.

Alexia wanted to say something, she kept looking back at the team. If she was paying attention she would notice that there was only 10 players on the England side of the tunnel. With her eyes now facing forward she didn’t see you walking towards the front of the line. The sound of your cleats fell on deaf ears.

Her head shot to the side when she caught a glimpse of you standing next to her with the pendent in your hand.

“Capital Y/L/N, nice to see you back where you belong” Alexia covered her mouth, her being well aware that there were cameras on her.

You shake your head at her greeting.

“Captain Putellas. You’re going to wish I wasn’t” you had one last attempt to get in her head.

“No I won’t. Win or lose today, this is something the world, myself included, has been waiting for”

You thought you would get a smart remark not a reply that was genuine.

“Alexia”

“Y/N”

Those were the last words spoken except from a good look after the coin toss.

You called a huddle before everyone got into place. This game was important, not only because of the trophy on the line but it was the lionesses chance at redemption. To prove that it was only one game.

“I want you all to do something for me. Play for right now, not for the past. You cannot change what happened in the summer, no matter how hard you try. Winning today won’t get you the star on the shirt but it can be the reset you guys have been wanting. That loss has been haunting you, I can see it by the look on your faces and I promise you here today that if you play with revenge in your hearts then you will fail. Yes, this is Spain but we are England. We don’t stay down, we get up and fight. We stand together as a team, a pride. We go out there and leave everything on the pitch”

Each player is hooked on every word as you give Mary the signal.

“England on three”

You all come together one more time before getting in position.

Alexia tries to do the same by most of the team is watching you.

“She is going to make it hard” Olga tells her captain.

“She is going to make our lives hell for the next 90 minutes but that’s not to say we can’t give it back. Look at that star on your shirt, we got that by beating this team. Yes, Y/N wasn’t playing but she is one player. As good as she may be, we are better. You’ve seen what everyone is saying, they are calling our World Cup win a fluke, that we didn’t win but England lost. We may have qualified for the Olympics but our job is not done. We have a trophy to win. Vamos Espana”

Just like England did, Spain come together before readying themselves for the game.

The game which starts in the worst possible way for the away team. It seems the your players might be a bit more nervous that they are letting on. Inside the first 15 minutes Salma gets through on goal and sends Spain up 1-0. It wasn’t ideal but it didn’t mean the game was over either. You were playing safe, as a way to get the most out of the team around you. When the first half is done with you haven’t take a single shot on goal.

Spain entered the tunnel happy and England entered it less so.

The atmosphere was eerie in the locker room and you could see the self doubt radiating off your team mates.

Sarina takes the floor and explains all sorts of strategies but nobody is listening. They are in their own head.

“Do you mind?” You walk up to Sarina hoping to have a talk with your team. The coach happily steps aside.

“How many of you are thinking about the World Cup? Raise your hand” nobody does and you decide to call bullshit “You’re lying and I won’t have that. You are telling me none of you are out there thinking of the summer? the picture of them lifting the trophy that should have been yours?”

One by one players begin lifting their hands.

“I can stand here and say I haven’t been good enough. I need to be better and I will be better. In 45 minutes we will be crowned champions. The question is are we going to do it in style or are we going to make it harder for ourselves? We know what we need to do and we will do it”

You leave the locker room and go back out onto the pitch. You are the first one out there and you take a minute to look at the score board. 1-0. You hated to lose but more than that, you hated to let people down. You made the decision to come back and you didn’t do that to come second. You returned to be a champion and to make Natalia proud, you wasn’t doing to let her down. You had spent the past couple of days trying not to think about her and maybe that was the problem. She was your greatest strength, your biggest supporter and she may be no longer with you, you may be beginning to move on but that doesn’t mean you have to forget about her. No, you need to play for her just as you always did.

The first ten minutes of the second half it was like a different team was on the pitch. England were pushing and pressing and Spain were struggling. In the 67 minute was when the game was made even once again. You and hempo were tiring out the defence and it made them vulnerable. On one counter attack they couldn’t keep up. Irene was the only player standing between you and Cata but she could see Hempo running up beside you. She found herself in a lose lose situation so she stuck with you in hopes that the pressure would work, it didn’t. You pull her in just enough to give hempo enough space. At the last minute you passed to your left and she fired the ball into the back of the net.

Game on.

Spain were beginning to tire and the one touch football that was known around the world began to work in favour of England. They were unable to play out from the back because you, Alessia, Hempo and LJ was pressing the defence. It was mind play and it was working.

It was during a corner where things got interesting.

“Keep going!” You clapped your hands to rally the team “we are in their heads, now we end it”

“You’re not in our heads” Alexia says as she chooses to mark you. It was a tactic they hadn’t done yet, so far Jenni had marked you.

“Just you saying that is proof that we are but feel free to prove me wrong” you had a minute to talk as the ref walk talking to Lucy and Irene.

“I will. Let’s make it interesting. You score right now and I’ll buy you a drink later”

“So that means I’ll be taking the trophy and your money? Oh you’re on”

Alexia followed you are you walked around the box as you got into position. You would end up in one or two places; front post or in the middle. Never did she think you would make a run for the back post and swap positions will Lucy. The change caught Alexia out and when the ball hit the back of the neck she shook her head in defeat.

She had played right into your hands. You had pulled her in with your words and left her hanging when you celebrated what would go on to be the winning goal of the game.

You had to take a moment when the game was over. Everyone was celebrating but you and Lucy made the effort to congratulate your club team mates of a game well played.

“Ay, Capi. You’re predictable you know that?” Lucy threw her arms around the Catalonian.

“Lucy!” You slapped her on the back of the head “What she meant to say is you guys played a good game and that we will see you in Paris”

“We’ll see them in Barcelona” Lucy tried to correct you.

“I mean on the pitch as opponents, idiot”

Alexia was to focused on what the defender said first to hear the bickering that was now taking place between the two of you.

“What did she mean?” Alexia asked you.

Lucy gave you a look before leaving the two of you be.

“You once told me that in order to see yourself as the best, you had to beat the best. Tonight you wanted to beat me”

“No, I —“

“You did and that’s ok. I wanted to beat you too. It’s our competitive nature. That need you had allowed us a way in. I didn’t know it would come from a corner, only that in at least one part of the game you will stick to me just so you could say you got the upper hand”

“I should have dropped you off, let Irene pick you up and followed Lucy” Alexia understands the error she made.

“You should have but don’t beat yourself up about it. That wasn’t our first plan or second. Our plan was for Hempo to tire Ona out and for Lucy to get inside Olga’s head. Without those two things happening, we wouldn’t have got the corner in the way we did”

Alexia didn’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed that you read her and her team so well.

“You deserve the win today. Go celebrate with your team”

“I will but remember you owe me a drink. I’ll text you the address of wherever we go. Invite the girls too”

Alexia watched you walk away but there was one more thing she wanted to tell you only she feared it would do more damage than good. In the end she bite the bullet and ran to you.

“Y/N”

“Hi again” you laughed “Do you want another explanation of our strategy? We can always watch the game back when we in home in Barcelona”

Home in Barcelona. There is something about the way you said it that made alexia feel warm and fuzzy inside. She quickly shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts and the overthinking that came with them.

“I just want to say that Natalia would have been proud of you today. Not just today but the other game too. I know it’s not my place to say that because I didn’t know her but you should know that. You—“ Alexia began rambling.

“Breathe. Thank you for saying that. I know she is looking down on me right now with a huge smile on her face and truth is if I think about her too much then I think I might cry so I don’t want to go into that right now. Thank you though”

Alexia couldn’t help but feel like she shouldn’t have said that.

The ceremony went by in the blind of an eye. One minute you are waiting for Spain to collect their medals, the next you are raising the trophy with Mary. Back in the locker room you find yourself staring at the medal on your neck. Never in your professional career had one stayed on your neck for this long and never has the gold felt so heavy. It felt like it was weighing you down so you take it off and stuff it into your back. You would talk about that means with your therapist if you had one.

Later on in the night you found yourself at the hotel bar with the rest of the team celebrating. You tried your best to be happy and part of you truly was but you life off the field was becoming more complicated and hard to ignore.

“Excuse me” you tell the group that included Leah, Georgia, Keira and Lucy.

“Should we be concerned?” Georgia asks.

“Yes but let her have a moment. These past ten days have been a lot for her” Lucy tells her friend.

They watched as you paced back and forth on the balcony. To the English it was warm outside but there was still a chill in the air and you weren’t wearing a jacket. Keira kept looking at her watch asking herself how long is long enough before she goes out to you.

Some of the Spanish team arrive about an hour after the lionesses. Some of them go to the bar, some go to friend but Alexia, well she only had one interest and she couldn’t it or more specifically couldn’t find you. Her eyes scanned the room one, twice and third time. She had her phone out ready to call just as she sees you.

Leah catches her walking towards you and wants to stop her.

“What is she doing” The blonde asks defensively “Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with her”

The Arsenal player has heard about you bust up when Keira visiting England over Christmas.

“Things are different now but I’m not sure this is the right thing to do. Alexia!” Keira shouts her club captain over.

“Hola. Congratulations again. You guys sure know how to party” she tried to be polite even though she had no interest in a conversation with anyone who wasn’t you.

“Thank you” Leah seems genuine “Were you going to see Y/N?”

Alexia nods.

“That might not be the best idea right now. I think she needs a minute to herself. It’s been quite the day for her”

“I know. That’s why I want to talk to her” Alexia knew that you might be been struggling but to her that was all the more reason for her to talk to you.

“She won’t even wear her medal” Georgia adds earning her a shove. As far as the English players are aware, Alexia didn’t know anything.

“That isn’t surprising. Every tournament until this one she has given her medal to Natalia” Alexia says as if it is the most obvious thing but your friends didn’t put two and two together.

“Wait” Lucy says “She told you about her?” Again, Alexia nods.

“When? She hasn’t talked about her since she passed” the defender added.

“After Christmas” Alexia explains but goes no further.

“That’s why she went to you the other night but then you—“

“Keira, I won’t talk about that right now. I just want make sure she is ok and I can’t do that if I am being interrogated by you”

With that Alexia leaves your friends speechless and makes her way towards the balcony.

As quietly as possible, Alexia slides the door open and closes it behind her. She didn’t want to startle you so she watched from a distance. Your face wasn’t puffy so you hadn’t been crying but your posture was stiff so you were stressed.

“They’ve spent the past hour burning holes in the back of my head from their staring yet you have come straight out” you turn to see Alexia resting against the door.

“I owe you a drink and —”

“And yet your hands are empty” you point to Alexia’s hand which as you stated aren’t holding a drink “You can come closer you know. I’m not going to blow”

“I know it’s just that—“

“The last time we were along I ran away crying” you laugh as you think back to that night. Things were going really well until they wasn’t.

“Are you going to let me finish a sentence or are you going to keep talking for me?”

You mumble an apology and signal for her to continue.

“Your friends know I know and I accidentally told keira we kissed”

“Figures. She has been hovering”

The two of you go quiet. It’s not awkward, it’s comfortable but even then it’s not what either of you wanted.

“You said we needed to talk” Alexia didn’t want to push things and you had told her this before the game.

“We do. What happened the other night it—“

“Shouldn’t have happened”

“Who is finishing the other’s sentences now”

“Lo siento”

“As I was saying” you send her smirk so she knows she isn’t in trouble “The other night was very overwhelming for me, not because I didn’t like what happened but because I did. I told you that I had feelings and those feelings are for you Alexia. You make me feel things that I thought I’d never feel again. I promised my heart and love to her Alexia and to feel these things for someone else is like an act of betrayal. It feels wrong but I don’t want those feelings to stop. You kissed me and I knew it was going to happen yet I didn’t to stop it. I shouldn’t have ran away like that”

“It was a lot for you, I understand that” Alexia tried to reassure you that it was ok.

“It was but I should have stayed. You wanted to talk to me and I didn’t give you the opportunity. Just because I lost someone doesn’t mean that it’s only my feelings that matter. I’m sorry Alexia”

Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Since you said the words ‘we need to talk’ she has been trying to think of all the things you could have said, an apology was not one of them.

“Can I say what I would have that night?” Alexia asks and you nods your head whilst closing the distance between you.

“Those feelings you talked about, I feel them too. Things changed between us after you told me and I couldn’t ignore it, trust me I tried. I was also aware of your loss and that this might not be something you are ready for so I talked to my mum one night. She is the only other person I know who has experienced the same loss you have. I told her that I had fallen for you and that I wanted to act on my feelings. You know what she told me? She told me that time heals all wounds but no amount of time is the same. If I wanted to prove to you that I truly liked you then I would need to take it slow so that is what I am willing to do. If you want to pursue this then we will take it slow, as slow as you need. You said it feels like an act of betrayal and I respect that. I won’t push you into anything you’re not ready for”

Alexia reached out for you and noticed once again tears were falling down your face.

“I have made you cry again. I shouldn’t have said anything. Y/N I am so sorry”

“Alexia, these aren’t sad tears” you reach for her hand “I can’t promise you that this will be easy. When Natalia died she took a lot of my heart with her and I don’t know how much is left but I want to share what I have left with you. Please be patient with me Alexia because I don’t know how to do this again. For most of my life it has been her and I but now I get the chance at happiness again, with you. We can take this slow?”

“We will go as slow are you want. I have nothing but time for you Y/N”

Alexia knew what to say and for the first time in a long time you found yourself leaning forward. Just as you were about to kiss her she moves and kisses your cheek.

“Slowly Y/N” Alexia winked causing you to chuckle “How about we go for dinner when we return to Barcelona?“

“I would really like that”

“Me too. Now if I remember correctly I owe you a drink” Alexia holds the door open so that you both can rejoin the party.

“That does seem to be the case. Make it a double. It’s not every day you pull one over on La Reina to score the winning goal” you shoved her playfully.

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