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confused-pyramid · 5 months

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Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

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mariasont · 5 months

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My Assistant - A.H

a/n: im a little addicted to bimbo reader rn if you can't tell lmao

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you can't reach a book so hotch helps you out

warnings: none? fluff, reader climbing a fucking book shelf and for what

wc: 0.8k

"Oh, biscuits!"

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but frankly you didn't care. You were on your tiptoes, chest flush against a bookshelf. Spencer had asked for a book for the case they were working, and naturally, it was nestled on the top shelf.

Balancing precariously on your stilettos, you stretched as tall as you possibly could, your fingers skimming the spine that was an inch too far away.

You shifted your weight back onto your heels, planting your hands firmly on your hips as you considered the stubborn object just out of reach. Sure, Spencer would grab the book without hesitation if asked, and he'd do so with a smile, but you really liked feeling useful.

For over a year, you've been the one at Mr. Hotchner's beck and call--fetching coffee, filing papers, and attending to, basically, his every need (not the one you wanted though). To others, it might seem trivial, but you really liked it. Well, you really liked him.

At first, you were intimidated--how could you not? He had a reputation. You heard the stories--a man who never smiled, his ever-serious nature, and Penelope's not so family friendly description of his sternness was enough to unsettle anyone.

But you considered his reputed severity to just be part of his charm, he was far from the figure others painted him as. He was a good boss, always fair, never once raising his voice at you or demanding too much. In your eyes, he was perfect. You might be biased.

The idea of climbing the shelf was a gamble, especially in these shoes, and it seemed almost certain to end with a less-than-elegant fall. Still, you couldn't resist the challenge and hoisted yourself up anyway, the shelf wobbling perilously as you did so.

You pressed on, climbing higher, the wood's groans of protest falling on deaf ears. If this was how you were going down, so be it.

"Almost there," you muttered to yourself, straining every muscle in your arm, you were sure.

And just as you almost had the book, your balance faltered and then found new footing, the sensation of falling dissipating. In its place, you found your ass delicately perched, nearly seated on someone's broad shoulder.

You honestly didn't even need to look to know who it was--embarrassingly enough--you had basically memorized the feeling of Hotch's hands. Though they had never been wrapped around your legs like they were now. His grip was warm and strong, sparking a wave of electricity that rippled through your whole body.

"Got it!" you cried out, your victory fist pump nearly launching you from Hotch's shoulder. But his hold on your thighs clamped tighter, securing you in place. "Thanks, sir."

You angled your head downward, locking gazes with Hotch--his eyes a rich blend of ember and molten chocolate that you really liked looking at.

His eyebrows were arched in a silent question on his well-defined face as if he really couldn't believe what you were doing.

"Careful," Hotch murmured, his hands lowering you to the ground. There was a fleeting brush against your ass, surely accidental, yet it sparked a flurry of butterflies swirling in the pit of your stomach. "In the future, just ask. I wouldn't want you hurt over something as trivial as a book."

"Oh, don't you worry about me, sir. I'm like, practically a pro at rock climbing when I'm not here." you said, letting out a bubbly giggle.

He regarded you with a look that was equal parts amusement and disbelief, clearly not convinced.

"Okay, not really, but wouldn't that be cool?"

"Well, rock climber or not, let's keep those feet on the ground, please," Hotch remarked, the slightest quirk of his mouth suggesting a suppressed smile. "It's less of a fall from there."

"Sure thing, sir!" you beamed, popping off a silly salute, noting his struggle not to roll his eyes. "But I did get the book, so it all worked out in the end, right?"

With a gentle nudge on your lower back, Hotch directed you towards the conference room.

"Yes, it did, but for future reference, Spencer's height makes him more capable of reaching those books himself."

You couldn't help the blush that colored your face, and you managed a flustered smile.

"Well, I mean, it is what I get paid to do, sir."

"No, you get paid to do my bidding, not Spencer's," he teases, giving a gentle squeeze to your side.

Your laughter rang out, a bit too high, a bit too bright, as his touch sent a delightful vertigo spiraling through you.

"Well, yeah, okay, that's fair. But it's been pretty light on the to-do list from you today."

"And you're complaining about that?"

With the conference room in sight, you pretended to lock your lips and throw away the key.

A rare laugh rumbled through his chest, and you felt your knees buckle, you were sure you could have melted into a puddle right there and then. It was such a beautiful sound, and you desperately wanted to become familiar with it.

Spencer emerged from the conference room, his eyes landing on the book in your hands. "Is that The Selfish Gene?"

Hotch took the book from you, handing it to Spencer with a firm look. "Reid, I'd appreciate it if you didn't recruit my assistant for your library runs."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x assistant reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x bau reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Spotify

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tossawary · 5 months

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That "even if you're writing a non-canon pairing in fanfiction, you have to respect that these characters will probably still care on a basic level about their original love interest" post was inspired by a lot of things. But foremost inspired by any "Fullmetal Alchemist" fanfiction that tries to convince me that Edward Elric doesn't actually like Winry Rockbell at all.

Like, uh, no. Ed would die for Winry, so jot that down. Even if you're writing an AU where one or both of them are gay, which is fun and fine, Ed and Winry are ride or die for each other. They've known each other for so long. They trust each other so much. When they're arguing with each other or annoying the other, it's because THEY CARE. This is basic characterization for them.

I was amusing myself by thinking about an AU in which Ed's romantic interest is someone like Ling Yao, in which there's some dangerous situation where Ed has to choose between saving Winry (his sister figure in this AU) and saving Ling. I was immediately like, "Oh, he would FOR SURE pick Winry in most scenarios. Sorry, Ling." Which would suck for Ed, because he hates failing to save anyone, but is also funny to think about with Ling specifically, because I think that Ling would actually respect this decision more.

Unlike Winry, Ling is a combatant with bodyguards, and so can be trusted to handle himself in dangerous situations. (Which obviously does not make Ling a BETTER love interest for Ed than Winry, Winry doesn't need to be good at fighting, it's just a different skillset.) Ling is also a leader, someone who wants to be an emperor someday, and I think he has opinions on loyalty. Despite feeling grateful to be saved, I think Ling might think quite poorly of Ed choosing him (a relative stranger, even if he is a legit snack) over Winry (functionally a member of Ed's family / clan, a skilled specialist who is necessary to Ed's own combat capabilities), because Ed sure as shit wouldn't be considering future political advantages with Xing here, so it would be choosing a new love over family / a loyal friend. Depending on the scenario (it all depends on the specific situation for all of these cases), I also think that Ling might choose to save someone like Lan Fan or even Mei Chang over Ed in a lot of situations, especially because Ed would HATE IT SO MUCH if Ling knowingly sacrificed anyone for his sake.

Non-canon pairings and their AUs are interesting to me partially for how they interact with the existing canonical relationships and how they negotiate with canonical motivations. For some characters, romantic relationships are just not as important as familial ones or their own goals. Obviously, for Edward Elric, (depending on the specific situation at hand, of course) he's going to choose Alphonse over nearly anyone else.

#tossawary fma #edward elric #winry rockbell #ling yao #edwinry #edling

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sturnioz · 29 days

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‘PRETTY & NERDY’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, established relationship au, college au.

word count. 2.8k

❝i think my pretty girl enjoys the idea of someone seein' my hands on you like this.❞

content warnings. explicit content, fingering, clit stimulation, public sex (exhibitionism), light hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

"you know... when i asked if you wanted to work on this project together, i actually meant work." you say, your voice laced with mock seriousness as you glance up at your boyfriend, who sits across the table in the quiet library, a sly smirk dancing on his lips as he leans back in his seat, making himself comfortable.

as he stretches, his foot glides up your calf, the soft fabric of his sock brushing against your skin in a teasing manner — you nearly snort at the thought of him just wearing one shoe beneath the table, but the sensation of his gentle touches keeps you from laughing.

his fingers, adorned with rings that catch the dim light, twirls a pen nonchalantly, his body sinking further into his chair as he presses his foot more insistently between your thighs, sending a shiver down your spine.

"i know you like it," matt murmurs, bringing the tip of his pen to his glasses to push them up the bridge of his nose.

"maybe so," you quip, flipping through the scattered papers on the table and sliding them across the polished woof in his direction. "but i also like getting good grades.. be a good boy and fill out the bottom half while i find another resource book, yeah?"

a grin spreads across his face, and he prods his tongue against his cheek, his head bobbing in a short nod. his foot slips from between your thighs as he sits up comfortably in his seat, and you can't help but smile at his obedience.

you push yourself up from your own seat and make your way over to the nearby shelves, your eyes scanning the titles in search for the right book needed for your research. as you navigate the aisles, you take note of the various students scattered throughout the library.

some have their eyes glued to laptop screens, fingers rapidly typing away, while others are deeply engrossed in thick textbooks, headphones snugly covering their ears.

but in a quiet corner, you spot a couple nestled together, sharing hushed whispers and flirty giggles, their hands innocently wandering as they lean in closer.

they remind you of you and matt — though sometimes, you wouldn't exactly label your own wandering hands as innocent. there's been a few scenarios where you've been out in public, hands shoved down each others pants, or you down on your knees to blow him, or even him laying you down flat on top of a surface and devouring your pussy like a starved animal.

the thrill of being so close to getting caught excites you just as much as it excites him, and the thought alone sends a throb between your legs.

you avert your eyes away from the couple, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you notice them watching you, and their faces flush with embarrassment when they realise they've been caught — hurriedly gathering their belongings, head ducked low, hand in hand as they scurry away, leaving you amused.

"i know you like the feelin' of being watched, but i didn't realise you like being the watcher too..." matt's voice drifts into your ear, teasing and low. you're not taken aback by his sudden appearance, and you sink back into his chest as he presses firmly against your back, enveloping you in warmth. his breath, warm and inviting, dancing along your neck as he whispers, "somethin' you wanna tell me, sweetheart?"

"nothing that you don't already know," you tease back, returning your focus to the shelves in search of the book you need. as you sift through the titles, you feel matt's arms slowly slide around your waist, his palms pressing against your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

a smile tugs at the corner of your lips as his fingertips dip beneath the fabric of your shirt, offering a comforting touch that sends warmth spreading through you.

you ask, "did you finish your section of the paper?"

instead of a verbal answer, matt hums softly, his lips far too busy pressing gentle kisses along your neck. he nips playfully at the sensitive spots, causing your head to roll back against his shoulder, a deep exhale escaping your lips. his hands slip further under your shirt, fingers stroking the skin of your stomach.

the library faded into the background, making it harder for you to concentrate on anything else, and you can feel his grin against your neck, his glasses nudging lightly against your head as he chuckles at the reaction he easily caused.

"anyone can catch us here, you know," you whisper, your hand reaching around to rest on the back of his head, fingers slipping through his dark hair, nails scraping his scalp as you gently tug at the roots, which causes a quiet groan to rumble in his chest. "someone could look over, see your hands up my shirt — or maybe they'll walk over to find a book, and see you pressed against me like this. what would they think?"

"do you care what they would think?" matt whispers in your ear, and you shake your head, a small gasp leaving your lips as you feel his hand slide down to cup your pussy through your skirt, and you push back against him, ass rutting against his growing cock. "do you wanna know what i think? i think my pretty girl enjoys the idea of someone seein' my hands on you like this."

"i do.." you breathe out with a hum. "so, are you actually going to do something about it, or—"

"shh, sweetheart. patience, yeah?" he croons softly as he fists at your skirt, pulling the material up to your hips so he can dip his hands between your legs. "it won't feel good if we rush it, y'know."

your body fully relaxes into him, gripping his hair even tighter as his lips attach to your neck in gentle, affectionate kisses while his fingers stroke over your covered folds, your knees almost buckling when his finger draws circles over your clit.

your body feels hot — clothes sticking uncomfortably like second skin, and you're desperate to peel them off to finally let yourself breathe, but your free hand shoots out to grip the shelf in front of you when you feel matt drag your panties down your thighs, the cold air hitting your core.

"this okay?" matt asks you, his hands massaging your thighs, his thumb kneading into the skin. "can you talk to me, sweetheart?"

"more than okay," you force yourself to speak with a frantic nod. "just touch me — please."

matt smiles, and your mouth drops in a silent gasp as you feel his fingers touch your pussy, spreading your folds and dipping his middle finger in your arousal, chuckling lowly in your ears as your hand leaves his hair to grab onto his wrist for support.

he mutters praises when his finger pushes through your opening, thrusting in once and out before adding a second finger to stretch you open, curling them upwards when he's buried knuckle deep in your warmth.

"fuuuck—"

"you're gonna have to be quiet if you want to continue this," matt warns you, his tone sharp. he halts his movements as he peeks through the shelves to observe the area, seeing students still with their noses shoved into their studies. "we're in a library, sweetheart. did i make you forget that already?"

you click your tongue against your teeth, "you're talking pretty confidently for someone who is breathing heavily in my ear every time i move against you..." you crane your neck to look at him, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you see the surprised look on his face. "what? did you think i wouldn't notice? matt... i thought you were smarter than that."

matt doesn't say a word because he knows you're right. he's hard — cock straining uncomfortably in his pants, and with your ass rubbing over his sensitive tip every time you press back into him, it sends him spirally, unable to control the heaving breathing in your ears.

it always fascinates him knowing how he's the one with his hands shoved between your thighs, yet you are the one that always seems to be in control.

but he has you quietly gasping once again as he starts up his movements, pumping his fingers into your pussy with his thumb rubbing your clit at an angle that has you trembling. your lips press together tightly, your back is arched, and your head lays limp on his shoulder as you grind on his hand, meeting his pace and sending your body into overdrive — body buzzing with each pump of his fingers.

the tension only builds more within the pit of your tummy when you see a student rise from their seat, heading towards the shelves to grab their needed book. they don't walk over in your direction, they don't even look in your direction — completely unaware of what's going on a few aisles down, but yet there's a small part of you that wonders what would happen if they just turn their heads to the left just a little more, to see the sight of your boyfriend fingering your beneath your skirt, pressed up against your body while covering your neck and shoulder in wet kisses.

realistically, you don't want to get caught. but the thought of it is enough to squeeze your thighs around matt's hand and cry out quietly.

"you're close, sweetheart.." matt states against your skin, knowing your body all too well. his movements are slow due to you caging his hand with your thighs, to he decides to circle his thumb over your sensitive nub. "do you want me to make you cum like this, pretty girl?" you're unable to speak, too struck with how he plays with your clit. "talk to me. y'know i won't do anythin' if you don't talk to me."

"i... i don't want to cum like this," you tell him quietly, watching as the student sits back down in their seat. the grip you have on matt's arm tightens, nails subtly pinching his skin. "want to cum on your cock — need to cum on your cock."

"you need to?"

"want to make you feel good—" you pause to pant heavily, your body jerking as he presses harder on your clit. "—need to make you feel good too."

"so fuckin' thoughtful, aren't you, sweetheart?" matt teases as he slips his fingers away, and you mewl at the emptiness with a pout, almost regretting at stopping so short, but you're reminded what's about to come when you hear him shuffling behind you, freeing his cock.

you yearn for him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you, and you're on the verge of raising your voice to show your impatience until you feel his hands bunch your skirt around your hips before squeezing your ass in his palms.

you can't hide the grin on your lips as you provoke him, rubbing yourself back into him and letting out a squeak of surprise when he sends a sharp slap to your ass in warning for you to be patient. you listen to him despite the internal struggle, and you almost lose yourself when he rubs the tip of his cock through your puffy folds.

you brace your hands on the shelf in front of you, the tips of your fingers brushing against the books, and you snort when you see a book about mushrooms and fungi — a little something to remind yourself exactly where you are, but you don't care, not when you can feel matt slowly ease his cock into you, stretching you out to fit snug around him.

matt's hands are firm on your waist when he begins rocking his hips into your at a slow and leisurely pace, rubbing his cock along your walls, and the ache burns pleasurably around your thighs — his size never ceasing to amaze you.

you clench around him with laboured breaths, wanting him deeper, wanting him to go faster and fuck you against the shelf like you truly deserve, but he keeps at his steady pace, whispering affections and praises in your ear.

"fuck," you mutter, rolling your hips back into him. "feels so good, matt."

"yeah?" matt hums, his tongue licking the shell of your ear. "my cock is made just for you, sweetheart... all for you."

you breathe out shakily in response, "m'all for you too."

"fuck, i know, sweetheart," his voice trembles, his hand sliding down between your thighs to play with your clit as his pace quickens. "i know."

he pushes your legs further apart with a light tap of his foot and you spread them quickly, the grip you have on the shelf tightening with each deep thrust of his hips, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit sending your mind whirling. your body starts to shake, and you wonder if you're able to continue to keep yourself upright, taking a glance at the shelves to see if it jolts in time with your body, but you fail to notice when matt suddenly slips out of you.

he carefully turns you around to face him, and your back is uncomfortably shoved against the shelf, the wood digging sharply into your spine. matt's hand slides around the back of your thigh to grip, hooking your leg up over his hip and ducking his head down to kiss you as he slides his cock back into you with an airy sound, almost similar to a whine.

you kiss him back immediately, knocking against his glasses as you turn your head to the side to kiss him deeper, lips moving in sync with his as his hips start to move again. him thrusting his cock so lazily and slow inside almost brings you to tears at how good it feels, hitting all the right spots that has your leg curling around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper.

his hand that isn't holding your thigh delicately caresses your cheek as his tongue prods into your mouth, dancing with your own as his cock hits a certain spot within your gummy walls that has you reeling back, sucking in a deep breath as your orgasm slowly starts to build.

you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots once again and matt moans quietly, his breathing getting heavier as he stares at you with his darkened gaze.

"i'm..." matt swallows thickly. "i—"

"what?" you ask him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes and fixing his glasses, crooked from the kiss. matt doesn't answer for a while and you grow concerned, stilling his thrusts as you press your leg into his side to get him to stop. "matt, what's wrong?"

"i'm—shiiit—m'sorry, i—fuuuck," he's unable to complete his sentences as his hips start up once again, suddenly thrusting into your pussy at a speed that has your mouth dropping open in shock, your hands immediately gripping his shoulders to stabilise yourself. "i can't—fuck, baby—i need—"

you struggle to keep yourself quiet as you moan his name aloud and matt immediately shushes you, his hand covering your mouth, not even bothering to check around to see if anyone has heard you as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, but the eye contract deems to much for him as he lets out a small whimper of affection.

your own hand comes around to cover his mouth to keep him quiet, and you both stay like that, his hips erratically thrusting into yours, your cunt sucking his cock in deep as you stare into each other's eyes, all sounds muffled behind your palms.

your thighs start to shake with each frantic thrust he gives you, too wrapped up in the tightness of your warmth to notice how you're so close to cumming, and you try your best to grind your hips to meet his pace.

matt curses beneath your palm as his body jolts suddenly, his eyes widening before rolling to the back of his head behind his foggy glasses, hips snapping forward with one particular hard thrust, and you feel him fill you up with his cum. the sight of his face alone is enough to tip you over the edge, your walls convulsing around his cock as you shudder, your orgasm hitting you like a wave.

you're quivering, unable to stop the light trembles of your body as the euphoric feeling takes its course through your veins with silent cries. matt slumps against your, eyelashes fluttering as she tries to regain his focus, his hand dropping from your mouth to curl around your waist beneath your shirt, the skin on skin contact calming him down.

"you.. you lose," you tease softly through pants, removing your hand from his mouth to touch his cheek and he smiles, leaning into your palm.

"didn't know it was a competition to see who cums first," he licks at his lips before pressing a soft kiss to yours, "does uh, does that mean i won the other times?"

"whatever," you roll your eyes playfully, kissing his lips once more before you mutter. "let's get out of here before someone comes back here and notices.. please."

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

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a-lexia11 · 1 month

Text

Jealousy,Pink hair,More Jealousy (Meet in Barcelona part 3)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning: very angsty and fluffy

Word counts: around 11k

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4 , Part 5

The following day at work, Alba was relentless in her attempts to pry information out of me about what happened between me and her sister. It all started because I accidentally let it slip that I had spent the night at Alexia's place.

Even though I kept insisting that nothing significant happened, Alba wouldn't let it go.

She kept teasing me with playful remarks and insinuations, making it nearly impossible for me to focus on my tasks.

I tried multiple times to divert the conversation to other topics, but Alba was determined, and her persistence made it a challenging day at work.

At the end of the day, as we were making our way to our cars in the parking lot, I received a text from Alexia asking how my day had been.

Alba, being the nosy person she is, glanced over at my phone to see who had texted me.

As soon as she saw it was her sister, she quickly snatched the phone from my hand. “Alba!” I shouted, feeling a mix of frustration and surprise.

She didn't waste a second; she sprinted towards her car with a mischievous grin, got inside, and immediately locked the doors.

I could see her laughing through the window as she held my phone hostage, leaving me standing there, both annoyed and amused by her antics.

“Alba!” I screamed, hitting the window of her car in frustration. “Alba! Puta, dame mi teléfono.” (Alba! You bitch, give me my phone!)

She just gave me the finger and stuck her tongue out, clearly enjoying her little victory.

From my perspective outside the car, I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but it seemed like she was scrolling through my text messages.

Alexia and I had been texting non-stop since I left her house on Sunday.

Our conversations were always filled with endless texts and phone calls, talking about everything and anything under the sun.

Alba finally unlocked her car, and I wasted no time in opening the door, hitting her on the head, and snatching my phone back with a swift motion.

She looked at me with a mocking smile.

“Has estado enviando muchos mensajes de texto” (You’ve been texting a lot) she said sarcastically.

“¡No me envías tantos mensajes a mí!” (You don’t text me that much!) she continued, pretending to be offended.

“Sí, porque eres una tonta” (Yes, because you’re a bitch) I retorted, glaring at her.

She just laughed at me, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Por cierto, ¿espero que no hayas olvidado que el cumpleaños de Bianca es mañana?” (By the way, I hope you didn't forget that Bianca's birthday is tomorrow?) she reminded me completely changing conversation.

“¡Oh, es verdad! Totalmente lo olvidé. No estoy seguro de si podré ir; tenemos mucho trabajo que terminar antes de las vacaciones de verano.” (Oh yes! That's right, I completely forgot. I'm not sure if I can make it; we have a lot of work to finish before summer vacation) I explained,feeling a bit overwhelmed by the thoughts of all the tasks ahead.

“¡Vamos, por favor! Nos vamos a divertir, y Alexia también estará allí.” (Oh, come on, please! We're going to have fun, and Alexia will be there to) she said, wriggling her eyebrows playfully.

I didn’t realize Alexia would be there. Even though I saw her just yesterday morning, I miss her and would love to see her again.

I pretended to mull it over, furrowing my brow and glancing into the distance, so she wouldn’t guess that my real reason for going is to see Alexia.

I tried to sound hesitant, saying, “Bueno, tal vez pueda hacer un esfuerzo“ (Well, maybe I can make an effort) while inside, I was already looking forward to the chance to see Alexia again.

With a joyful cheer, Alba clapped her hands and planted a warm kiss on my cheek. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she exclaimed, “¡Vamos a divertirnos mucho juntos! ¡Te lo prometo, va a ser increíble!” (We're going to have so much fun together! I promise you, it's going to be amazing!)

“¡Estoy segura de que nos divertiremos mucho, pero tengo que irme ahora; tengo mucho trabajo que hacer y tú también!” (I’m sure we will have tons of fun but I have to go now; I have a lot of work to do and you do too! ) I told her kissing her cheeks goodbye and reminding her of her work.

“Adios nena! Hasta mañana” (Bye, babe, see you tomorrow) she said as she buckled her seatbelt with a slight smile. “Adios,Albita” (Goodbye, Albita) I replied, turning to walk away with a casual wave.

Suddenly, I heard her shout, “No me llames así,Puta” (Don't call me that!Bitch) Her voice was filled with a mix of frustration and playfulness.

Without turning around, I simply raised my hand and gave her the middle finger, a mischievous grin spreading across my face.

——

That evening, after enjoying a delicious dinner and meticulously cleaning up my apartment, I settled comfortably on my couch to correct some of the kids' assignments.

Just as I was getting into the rhythm of my work, my phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call from Alexia.

I picked up the phone, and Alexia's familiar face appeared on my screen, her smile instantly lifting my spirits. “Hola guapa,” she greeted warmly, her voice filled with affection. “Hola Ale,” I responded, feeling a sense of comfort.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” (What are you doing?) she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she looked at me through the screen. “Estoy corrigiendo algunos trabajos de los niños, ¿y tú?” (I’m correcting some of the kids’ work and you) I replied, eager to hear about her day and share a bit of mine.

She turned the camera around to show me she was watching a football match. The crowd was roaring in the background. She then turned the camera back to her face and smiled mischievously at me.

“You know you can watch something other than football,” I informed her with a smile. “No, gracias” she replied firmly, and I rolled my eyes at her, amused by her stubbornness.

“Alba said that you’re coming to the restaurant for Bianca’s birthday tomorrow” she said with a hint of excitement in her voice. “Yes, I am” I replied, glancing up from the papers I was correcting.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go together. I can pick you up at your apartment around 8, and we can go together” she asked, her tone hopeful. “Yes, I’d love that” I responded, smiling at her.

After that, I asked her how she was feeling about the upcoming Champions League final. I knew that last year's final did not go well, and Alexia was devastated by that loss.

She had been so hopeful, and the defeat really took a toll on her. However, this year seemed different. She was pretty confident, having seen the team’s progress and improvements.

Yet, I could still sense a bit of nervousness in her voice, a lingering anxiety about what might happen.

“I really hope you guys win just because I want to see you with pink hair” I told her, and she laughed.

We spent hours on the phone, discussing everything and anything until it was time to sleep. I nestled into bed, wrapping myself in the duvet, mirroring Alexia's movements.

“Buenas noches, guapa. Hasta mañana” (good night, beautiful.See you tomorrow) she softly uttered, sending virtual kisses through the phone.

“Good night, Alexia” I reciprocated. Her smile lingered in my mind as the call ended, and I peacefully drifted off to sleep shortly after.

——

The next day, after wrapping up another busy day at work, I found myself back at my apartment, preparing for Bianca’s birthday celebration at a cozy restaurant.

Alexia texted me, saying she’d arrive in five minutes, so I took the opportunity to perfect my makeup just a bit more.

When I received the text that Alexia had arrived, I quickly grabbed my bag and headed out of my apartment. As soon as I stepped into the parking lot, I immediately spotted Alexia’s car.

She hadn’t noticed me yet, still deeply engrossed in her phone, so I decided it would be the perfect moment to give her a little scare.

Silently, I made my way around the car, moving as quietly as possible until I reached her window. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, I started knocking on it frantically.

Alexia looked up at me with wide eyes, as if she had just seen a ghost. She jumped in her seat, her phone nearly slipping from her grasp, and clutched her hand over her heart in shock.

Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and for a moment, she was completely frozen, staring at me in utter disbelief.

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at her reaction. Still chuckling, I walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and slid into the seat beside her, my laughter echoing in the confined space of the car.

“Eres tontissima,”(you’re so stupid) she said, still looking at me horrified and slapping my thigh.

“Hi, Ale,” I told her, still laughing a little and leaning over the console to kiss her cheek. I felt her warm skin against my lips and the familiar scent of her perfume filled the air.

She smiled a bit at me, her eyes still shining with a mix of surprise and amusement, and greeted me back. With a fluid motion, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, her hands steady on the wheel.

While she was focusing on the road, I couldn’t help but admire her. She looked so beautiful under the soft evening light streaming through the windows.

She was wearing a simple white crop top that accentuated her figure and a pink and orange skirt.

Her hoop earrings sparkled with every ray of sunlight that touched them, adding a touch of elegance to her simple yet incredibly attractive look.

——

When we arrived at the restaurant, Alexia and I exited the car.

I waited as she retrieved her purse from the backseat, then she walked over and put an arm around my shoulder. “Vamos” (Let's go) she said, guiding me to the entrance.

We spotted our friends at the table and went over to greet them one by one. I knew everyone except one person. Alba introduced him to me; his name was Marcus, and he was also American.

Alexia and I took seats across from each other, and I ended up next to Marcus. He was very friendly and chatty, telling me how glad he was to finally talk with another American.

For most of the dinner, I ended up conversing with Marcus. Being at the end of the table and with him next to me, I didn't have much of a choice, especially since he was talking... A LOT.

I didn't mind because he was very sweet and funny.

When I glanced over at Alexia, she seemed unhappy, frowning and staring at her plate.

I gently nudged her leg to get her attention. When she looked up, I smiled at her, trying to lift her spirits, but she just looked away.

What’s wrong with her?

I decided to leave her alone, thinking she might be socially exhausted.

After we finished the cake, Alexia excused herself to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I excused myself and followed her.

The bathroom was empty, and Alexia was at the sink, washing her hands. I approached her.

“Alexia, estás bien” (Alexia, are you okay?) I asked, trying to place my hand on her shoulder but she stepped back to grab some paper and dry her hands.

“Estoy bien” (I'm fine) she murmured without looking at me. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something?” I insisted.

“No, te dije que estoy bien” (No, I told you I'm fine) she said, about to leave the bathroom, but I blocked her path and stood in front of her, putting my hand on her chest to stop her.

“Tell me what's going on” I insisted once more. “Oh Dios mío, no pasa nada, puedes volver a hablar con él.” (Oh my God, nothing's wrong, you can go talk to him again) she said, looking at me with anger.

I looked at her confused. “Marcus?” I asked. “Sí, vuelve con él” (Yes, go back to him) she replied.

I looked at her for a few seconds before realizing. “Estás celosa” (You're jealous) I pointed out. “No, no lo estoy” (No, I'm not) she replied scoffing.

“Yes, you're jealous, you have no right to be jealous, Alexia.You told me you didn't want me” I reminded her.

“Nunca dije que no te quería, dije que no quería una relación.” (I never said I didn't want you, I said I didn't want a relationship) she corrected.

“It's the same thing, Alexia” I replied, staring at her. “No, no lo es, I want you” (no it’s not) she murmured, looking into my eyes.

“Look, Alexia, we're not together, so you have no right to be angry and jealous over someone else” I explained.

“Lo se” (I know) she murmured softly and wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me closer to her.

“I want to be with you, but I can't because-”

I interrupted her before she could finish.

“Yes, I know, because of your job, but it's a shit excuse, Alexia. If you really want to be with someone, you wouldn't let anything come between you and that person” I told her. “And I understand you want to focus on your career, but who said you can't have both, a career and someone to love?” I continued.

She didn't say anything ,she just stared at me and then after a few minutes slowly leaned down towards me, her face getting closer to mine.

I didn't move closer, even though I wanted to, I wanted her to do the first move.

She gently brushed her nose against mine, and I closed my eyes.

But just as she was about to kiss me, an elderly lady entered the bathroom, and we quickly moved away from each other.

Thanks a lot grandma…

“Let's go back with the others” she said, taking my hand before kissing me on the forehead and leading me back to our friends.

Returning to our table, Alba gave me a strange look, and I just shrugged at her.

For the rest of the night, Alexia and I didn't talk, and I did everything I could to avoid making eye contact with her.

——

At the end of the evening, everyone exchanged farewells. While hugging Alba, she sensed something was off and asked me about it. I promised to explain later.

Alexia and I got back into her car, and the drive home was filled with silence. When we pulled into my apartment's parking lot, I unbuckled my seatbelt and mumbled a thank you and good night. Just as I was about to leave, she grabbed my arm.

“Espera”(wait) she said. I turned to face her as she shifted in her seat, letting go of my arm.

“Lo siento” (sorry) she began. “No debería haber actuado como lo hice en el restaurante.” Tenías razón; estaba celosa.(I shouldn't have acted the way I did at the restaurant. You were right; I was jealous) she confessed, taking my hand and fiddling with my fingers without looking at me.

“I'm sorry too” I replied. “I shouldn't have told you how to live your life. You have every right to not want a relationship right now” I added, intertwining our fingers.

“No estoy segura de lo que quiero en este momento, pero una cosa que sí sé es que te quiero a ti” (I'm not sure what I want right now, but one thing that I do know is that I want you) she said softly.

“Te quiero tanto, tengo todos esos sentimientos por ti, pero no lo sé, supongo que solo necesito tiempo para entenderlo.” (I want you so much,I have all those feelings for you but I don’t know, I just need time to figure it out I guess) she continued looking at me straight in the eyes.

“I want you too,Alexia and it's okay, take your time. We can go slow if that's what you need” I suggested.

“I can't ask you to wait for me” she said, placing her other hand on my cheek and gently stroking it.

I leaned into her touch. “You're not asking. I want to” I assured her, kissing her palm.

She smiled gently and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek, close to my lips.

She pulled back, and I smiled, giving her an eskimo kiss, which made her laugh.

We said our goodbyes with kisses on each other's cheeks and a long, warm hug.

——

Later, as I lay in bed, I received a text from her.

La Reina 👸: buenas noches, nena.Dulces sueños. I promise you that I will try and figure out what I want as soon as possible.(goodnight. Sweet dreams)

I smiled at her message, sent her some heart emojis, and wished her sweet dreams too.

——

The week flew by, as usual, I went to work. I shared with Alba what happened with her sister and how we agreed to take things slowly. She was thrilled and kept teasing me about it.

I also informed my friends and parents about it since I tell them literally everything. My mom was ecstatic, constantly asking about Alexia, while my dad mentioned watching some of her matches.

Alexia and I grew closer too. Despite the challenge of not seeing each other much during the week, we managed to spend quality time together. When apart, we would text or video call each other.

Alexia has become incredibly affectionate with me lately. She's always finding ways to touch me, whether it's a gentle hand on my arm or a playful nudge. She kisses my cheeks and forehead with such tenderness, and her hugs are warm and comforting. We spend a lot of time cuddling, and every moment feels special.

Honestly, I’m not complaining at all—I absolutely adore the attention and affection she showers on me.

Moreover, with Alexia, Alba, and some of our friends, we planned an exciting trip to Bali during the summer vacation. It's going to be an incredible getaway just before Alexia flies to Australia for the World Cup. We’ve been looking forward to exploring Bali’s beautiful beaches, vibrant culture, and delicious cuisine. I can’t wait for it – the relaxation, the adventures, and the quality time with friends. Vacation finally!

——

Currently, I was at Alexia's apartment preparing dinner while she was in the shower.

As I was stirring the sauce for the pasta, I felt two arms wrapping around my waist and a muscular front pressing against my back.

“Eso huele muy bien, nena” (That smells so good) Alexia whispered into my ear, kissing it softly.

I leaned back into her and kissed her cheek. “It’s almost ready, can you set the table?” I asked her.

She just nodded, placing another kiss on my cheek before letting go and setting the table.

“So the Champions League final is Saturday,” Alexia started as we were eating. “Yeah, I know,” I said, looking up at her.

“And it’s in the Netherlands,” she continued. “Yeah, I know that too,” I smiled amusingly at her.

“I want you to come to the final” she said, looking a little nervous. “Alba, mami, and my uncle are coming, and I want you to come too,” she continued.

“Really? Are you sure?” I asked her, surprised at her request. “Yes! You can be like my good luck charm,” she said, placing her hand on my thigh and caressing it.

“Good luck charm, huh? I mean, the last time I came to one of your matches, you lost,” I told her jokingly.

She laughed softly and slapped my thigh. “Please, come. I want you there” she practically pleaded.

“Sure, I’ll be there, Ale” I informed her, and she smiled at me and kissed my cheek.

——

On Tuesday night, I found myself bidding farewell to Alexia with a warm embrace as she was departing for the Netherlands on Wednesday, and I won't see her for 4 days, which, although not a long time for some, feels quite lengthy to me.

I departed from Spain on Friday night, after school ended, with Alba.Her mom and uncle had left already left on Thursday.

Upon landing at the airport, we took a taxi to our hotel. With no immediate plans until that evening, we decided to join Alexia's mom and uncle in exploring the city.

Naturally, I kept Alexia informed about our activities, and she updated me on her well-being and the team's activities.

After an afternoon of sightseeing and shopping, we returned to the hotel to freshen up. Sporting Alexia's shirt, we headed to the stadium.

The stadium wasn't very crowded yet, so we found our seats near the field and waited.

Eventually, the girls came out to inspect the field. I noticed Alexia; she was dressed in the Barca tracksuit and had her headphones on.

Eli called out her daughter’s name to catch her attention. Alexia turned around when she heard her mother’s voice and came over.

She gave each of us a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She talked with us for a bit, and it was clear she was getting more nervous as time went on.

“Can I talk to you?” she whispered in my ear.

“Yes, of course” I responded.

We excused ourselves from her family and found a little private space where there weren't many people. Immediately, Alexia pulled me into a tight hug.

“Te extrañé mucho” (I missed you so much) she said, burying her head in my neck.

“I missed you too, Ale. I'm so happy to see you” I mumbled, rubbing her back. “How do you feel?” I continued.

She pulled away slightly and she grabbed my hands and intertwined our fingers. “Un poco nerviosa” (A little nervous) she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

I moved closer to her. “It's okay, Ale. I'm sure you're going to be amazing” I reassured her.

She smiled gently at me and kissed my forehead. “I'm so happy that you came” she murmured against my skin.

I looked up at her and smiled, then kissed her cheek repeatedly making her giggled. “Some good luck kisses for you” I informed her.

“Muchas gracias, con todos esos besos no hay manera de que pierda.” (Thank you very much, with all those kisses there’s no way I’m losing) she said playfully.

Our moment was interrupted by Irene Paredes calling Alexia over, signaling that it was time for her and the team to get ready for warm-up.

“Te veré después del partido, cariño.” (I'll see you after the match) she said, placing one last lingering kiss on my forehead before accompanying me back to her family.

She said goodbye and hugged them warmly.

Once Alexia left, Alba looked at me teasingly. “Alexia está enamorada de Y/N.” (Alexia is in love with Y/N) she sang repeatedly, her voice dripping with playful mischief.

“A veces me pregunto por qué somos amigas; eres tan molesto.” (Sometimes I wonder why we're friends; you are so annoying) I said, pushing her away gently, though a small smile played on my lips.

Alba's teasing was relentless, but it was part of her charm.

Eli, ever the voice of reason, smiled gently at me and then turned to Alba. “Deja en paz a esa pobre chica, Alba, y metete de tus asuntos.” (Leave that poor girl alone, Alba, and mind your business) she said sternly, her tone leaving no room for argument. Eli's protective nature always made me feel supported.

“Lo siento,mami” (Sorry, mami) Alba said, looking dejected. I couldn't help but smirk a little at her.

“¡Gracias, Eli! Sabes que definitivamente eres mi Putellas favorita.” (Thank you, Eli. You know you're definitely my favorite Putellas) I told her, smiling warmly.

She returned the smile, her eyes twinkling with kindness. Eli had a way of making everyone feel special.

Alba just scoffed at that, rolling her eyes dramatically. I moved closer to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek softly.

“No te preocupes, Alba, siempre serás mi tonta favorita.” (Don't worry, Alba, you will always be my favorite idiot) I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Alba's playful nature was something I cherished, even if she drove me crazy sometimes.

Alba rolled her eyes again and took out her phone, scrolling through it with a huff.

“Eres imposible” (You're impossible) she muttered, but I could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Despite our constant banter, the bond between us was unbreakable.

——

When the match time arrived, the stadium was full and everyone was waiting for the teams to come out of the tunnel.

Alexia was starting on the bench and she looked focused and determined; this game was very important to her. I really hoped everything would go well.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go well. Wolfsburg was leading 2-0 by the end of the first half...

As the team headed back to the changing room for half-time, I’ve never felt so nervous for a match before.

The second half began, and finally, a goal! The excitement was palpable, and they had a chance to catch up.

Shortly after, another goal! Alba and I erupted into screams, jumping and hugging each other.

Roughly 20 minutes later, Barca scored yet another goal, sending everyone into a wild celebration.

After their heartbreaking loss last year, Barca now had a real shot at winning the Champions League a second time!

Towards the end of the match, Alexia came onto the field, greeted by roaring cheers. Alba and I screamed so loudly that I almost felt like I might throw up.

The final whistle blew, and cheers filled the air. Eli pulled Alba and me into a hug as we watched the Barca players rush onto the field, celebrating together.

After the celebrations and the trophy lift, the players joyfully made their way over to their families and friends, their faces glowing with triumph and excitement.

I spotted Alexia weaving through the crowd, her smile as radiant as ever. She first embraced her mom, holding her tightly as they shared a moment of pride. Next, she turned to Alba, giving her a warm and affectionate hug, followed by a heartfelt embrace with her uncle. Finally, she reached me.

As Alexia wrapped her arms around me, one hand resting gently behind my head and the other securely on my back, I leaned in and whispered, “Congratulations.”

She responded with a tender kiss on my cheek and softly said, “Gracias cariño” before stepping back, her eyes twinkling with happiness.

We spent a few more minutes chatting, sharing in the joy of the victory, before Alexia and the other players needed to head back to the changing room to freshen up and prepare for the evening's festivities.

Later that night, the entire team, along with some close friends and family members, gathered at a charming restaurant to celebrate their hard-earned victory.

The atmosphere was filled with laughter and cheer as everyone reminisced about the match. That night, I had the pleasure of meeting all of Alexia’s teammates, each one as kind and welcoming as she had described.

——

The following day in Barcelona, I found myself relaxing on my couch, casually swiping through Instagram. Alexia and her team decided to hit the clubs to revel in their triumph.

Although Alexia extended an invitation for me to join them, I politely declined, mindful of my upcoming work commitments on Monday and wanting to avoid any potential hangover or exhaustion.

While scrolling through Instagram, I stumbled upon various pictures and clips of the Barca team enjoying themselves at the club.

Among the pictures and videos, I noticed several featuring Alexia alongside a tall brunette and they seemed very close.

In one particular photo, Alexia had her arm wrapped around the brunette's waist, sharing a whispered moment, while the brunette reciprocated with a hand on Alexia's arm, sporting a broad smile.

A twinge of jealousy pricked at me. Despite knowing we aren't in a defined relationship, seeing Alexia in that intimate moment stirred emotions akin to what she might have felt when observing me with Marcus. It was a painful realization.

I tried not to rush to conclusions, acknowledging that the brunette could simply be a friend. Yet, my mind couldn't help but wander down paths of uncertainty.

My time with Alexia is cherished. She provides a sense of security, exudes humor, kindness, and perfection in my eyes. However, as I ponder our ambiguous dynamic, doubts begin to cloud my thoughts.

I know I said I'd wait, but I didn't realize just how difficult it would be. Seeing her with other girls hurts me more than I expected.

Maybe she doesn't want a relationship and just wants to have some fun? Everything is so confusing right now. I find myself questioning everything and wondering if I've been reading too much into our interactions.

Before I could spiral into overthinking, I decided to lock my phone and try to get some sleep. I knew I needed to clear my mind and give myself a break from all these swirling emotions.

——

The next morning, I woke up to a message from Alexia wishing me good night at 5 in the morning... so she must have partied hard all night long.

I went on with my day, did my morning routine, had breakfast, and went out to run some errands. Throughout the day, I received numerous texts from Alexia, and at one point, she even called me.

I decided not to respond to any of them , though. I felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, and confusion. I didn't want to say something I might regret later, so I thought it best to keep my distance for now.

I needed time to process everything and figure out how I truly felt.

I know I have no right to act the way I am right now because, for all I know, that girl could just be a friend or something, and Alexia and I aren't even together, so yeah... But the uncertainty and the hurt were too much for me to handle at the moment.

Later, like most Sunday, Alba came over to my apartment for coffee. She's always been a good listener and gives great advice. That's why I decided to ask her about the girl Alexia has been pictured with. I needed a friend's perspective to help me make sense of everything.

“¿Viste algunas de las fotos de las chicas en el club anoche?” (Hey, did you see some of the photos of the girls at the club last night?) I asked Alba, who was scrolling through her phone.

“Sí, parecían estar pasándola muy bien. ¡Qué noche tan loca debe haber sido!” (Yeah, they looked like they were having fun. What a crazy night that must have been) she commented with a smile.

“¿Sabes quién es la chica alta y morena que estaba con ellas?” (Do you know who the tall brunette with them is?) I inquired.

“¿Cuál morena?” (Which brunette?) she asked, confused.

I took my phone and showed her one of the many photos where this girl appeared. Alba looked closer and her eyes widened and she took my phone out of my hand to take a closer look.

“Que?” (What?) I asked. “¿La conoces?” (Do you know her?) I added curiously.

“Sí, la conozco. No sabía que había vuelto.” (Yeah, I know her. I didn't know she was back) she commented. “¿Por qué estaba ella allí con ellos? ¿Alexia la invitó?” (Why was she there with them? Did Alexia invite her?) she asked, intrigued.

“No lo sé, pero Alexia la conoce?” (I don't know, but Alexia knows her?) I said impatient. Alba seemed hesitant to tell me something, and I frowned, urging her to speak.

“Sí, esa es Marina, su exnovia.” (Yes, that's Marina, her ex-girlfriend) she murmured. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh," I simply said.

I felt nauseous. That's her ex-girlfriend. Her ex-girlfriend was partying with her and was really close to her. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to hold back my tears.

I asked Alba more questions, and the more I learned, the more my heart broke.

So, she was Alexia's ex-girlfriend, and they were together for almost 8 years! They started dating when they were 18 years old.

They broke up because Marina was moving to South America. That's the reason for their breakup, not because they didn't love each other anymore or had relationship problems, but because she was moving away.

And now that she's apparently back, will Alexia go back to her?

Alba gave me a sorrowful look with a gentle smile, and I quickly averted my gaze and changed the topic. If we kept talking about it, I would definitely start crying.

——

Over the next few days, I continued to avoid Alexia and her messages, either not replying or responding very briefly. Until I could no longer ignore her.

One evening, while I was making dinner, I heard a knock at the door. I went to open it, and there was Alexia, holding Nala in her arms.

“Hola” she greeted me with a sad smile. "Uh... hi," I responded, surprised to see her here.

“Can I come in?” she asked. Instead of answering, I just opened the door wider to let her in.

She walked in and set Nala down, and the little dog wandered off to the living room. I headed back to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? Or maybe you're hungry? I just finished dinner” I offered.

“No, thank you” she replied. “Podemos hablar?” (Can we talk?) she continued. I sighed, not really in the mood to have a conversation with her right now, but I nodded anyway.

She took a seat on the couch, and I sat next to her, leaving a noticeable gap between us.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked softly but directly. I looked at her. “No, I'm not” I answered. “Entonces, ¿por qué me estás evitando?” (Then why are you avoiding me) she asked more firmly.

“I'm not avoiding you” I lied. I didn't want to bring up the team party and how she probably spent the whole night with her ex-girlfriend.

"Yes, you are. No respondes a mis mensajes o llamadas, ya no vienes a mi apartamento. (You don't reply to my messages or calls, you don't come to my apartment anymore...) she trailed off, then moved closer and took my hand in hers. “Te extraño” (I miss you) she said softly.

I felt really guilty. This wasn't fair to her. I've been ignoring her out of jealousy. Probably nothing happened between her and her ex, and here I am hurting her without telling her why.

I moved closer to her. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you. I'm just really tired, and work is also overwhelming. It's almost summer break, and we need to finish the entire school program before the holidays” I partially lied, I was indeed a little bit stressed about the entire school program thing.

I didn't want to bring up the ex-girlfriend issue. I trust her. I know Alexia; if she wanted to talk to me about it, she would have. So I won't bring up Marina. I'll let Alexia talk about her first if she feels she needs to.

Alexia wrapped her arm around my waist and gently rested her forehead against mine, whispering softly, “It’s okay, cariño. I know it can be stressful, but you can do it and think about the summer vacation! Two months without work or children and also we are going to Bali!”

I smiled gently, kissed the tip of her nose, and nuzzled my nose against hers. “I can’t wait for it” I replied. She pulled me into a warm hug, and I buried my face in her neck as she soothingly rubbed my back.

“Hey! You won the Champions League! So now you have to dye your hair pink” I playfully reminded her, pulling back slightly but staying close. She laughed, “I know cariño, one of Alba’s friends is coming to my apartment Saturday to dye my hair. Do you want to come too?”

“Yes! I want to be one of the first to see your new hair” I cheered.

In this moment, my mind found peace, though I carried the weight of not being fully honest about my actions.

Yet, for now, serenity enveloped us, at least for tonight.

——

After another eventful week at school, it was finally Saturday, and I was on my way to Alexia’s apartment.

Despite Alexia and I having discussed things the other day, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed between us.

On my end, I found myself gradually distancing from her once again... The whole situation with Marina really got under my skin, more than I wanted to admit.

It was something I knew I shouldn't let affect me, but it did. Every time I thought about it, a pang of discomfort hit me, making it hard to act normal around Alexia.

And if Alexia noticed this change between us, she definitely didn't talk about it. She continued to act as if everything was normal, which only made things more confusing for me.

I wondered if she was genuinely unaware of the distance I was creating or if she was choosing to ignore it. Either way, it left me feeling even more isolated and unsure about where our friendship?? Relationship?? was headed.

Arriving at Alexia’s apartment, I parked my car and made my way to the building. I took the elevator up to her floor, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

Once I stood in front of her door, I took a deep breath, knocked, and waited for her to answer. After a few seconds, the door opened, but to my surprise, it wasn’t Alexia standing there.

Instead, it was Marina—the woman who had made me question my "relationship" with Alexia. Seeing her there brought back a flood of emotions and doubts, leaving me momentarily speechless.

“Hola?” (Hello?) she said, sounding confused. “¿Puedo ayudarte en algo?” (Can I help you with something?) she asked, her eyes narrowing at me.

“Um... sí, hola... ¿Está Alexia aquí?” (Um... yes, hi... Is Alexia here?) I asked, my voice faltering slightly. What is she doing here?

“¿Ella sabe quién eres tú?” (Does she know who you are?) she asked, her tone sharp and her eyes scanning me with a hint of hostility.

“Sí. Soy su amigo. Escucha, ¿puedes simplemente llamarla? Ella misma te lo dirá.” (Yes, she does. I’m her friend. Listen, can you just call her? She’ll tell you herself) I said, glaring back at her.

“No puedo, ella está en la ducha.” (I can’t, she’s in the shower) she replied, a smirk playing on her lips.

What’s her problem?

“Tu-” (You—) I started, but then I heard my name being called from down the hall.

Alba. Thank goodness.

She approached us and looked at Marina. They exchanged glances, then suddenly began cheering and hugging each other tightly.

“¡Oh, Dios mío! ¡Te extrañé tanto!” (Oh my god! I missed you so much) Alba exclaimed, squeezing her even tighter.

I stood there awkwardly, my eyes wide. It seemed like they were the best of friends.

“Veo que ya has conocido a Y/N.” (I see you’ve met Y/N already) Alba said once they pulled away, wrapping an arm around me.

“Si ” she said, her previous hostility disappearing. “Pasen, pasen, chicas.” (Come in, come in, girls) she added, opening the door wider to let me and Alba enter the apartment.

I can't shake this terrible feeling about the whole situation. Everything just seems off, and I can't help but worry that something bad is going to happen.

As the three of us settled down at the kitchen table, a sense of being overlooked crept over me. Alba and Marina delved into their conversation, likely catching up on various matters.

I found myself seated beside Alba, with Marina positioned across from her.

The rapid-fire Catalan dialogue left me utterly perplexed, unable to grasp a single word...

A feeling of exclusion and displacement washed over me, contemplating turning to my phone yet refraining to avoid appearing impolite, opting instead to survey the room.

In a sudden moment, my eyes landed on an open suitcase near the couch. Please, let it not be Marina's. Could she possibly be staying here? With only one room available, and considering Alexia's hospitality, it seemed unlikely she'd have Marina sleep on the couch.

Did they share Alexia's bed?

Amidst my mind's tumultuous whirl, Alexia emerged from the shower. Catching sight of us at the kitchen table, a broad smile illuminated her face.

Approaching me, she leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, tenderly brushing my cheek, whispering a soft “hola cariño” , then proceeded to greet Alba in the same warm manner.

Alexia then sat next to Marina. “Y/N, supongo que ya la has conocido, pero esta es Marina, mi amiga” (Y/N, I guess you’ve already met her, but this is Marina, my friend) Alexia mentioned, gesturing towards Marina.

Sure, Alexia, just your friend. Why don’t you also mention that she is your ex and that you two dated for almost a decade? It’s like she’s skipping over the most crucial part.

I just smiled softly at Alexia without saying another word. Internally, I was a whirlwind of emotions. Alexia then informed us that Mario, Alba’s friend and hairdresser, would arrive a little later to dye her hair.

With Alexia here now, I thought I would feel less overlooked, but no… they immediately delved back into their old memories, sharing stories in Catalan, and showing each other pictures. I couldn’t understand a thing, which made me feel even more out of place.

I’m so tempted to leave right now. Why am I even here? It feels like I’m invisible, just an observer in their world. This was supposed to be an enjoyable visit, but it’s turning out to be anything but that.

I shouldn't feel this way, but it's hard not to. They clearly haven't seen each other for a long time, and I'm sure they were very close when she and Alexia were still together. Given that they haven't met up in three years, it's natural they want to catch up on everything that's happened.

However, it would be considerate if they could speak Spanish so I can understand and be part of the conversation. It feels a bit isolating not being able to follow along, especially when I want to be included and understand what's being discussed.

I was jolted out of my thoughts by a gentle nudge on my feet. When I looked up, I saw Alexia with a concerned frown on her face.

In an attempt to reassure her, I offered a small, comforting smile but she does not look convinced.

She rose from her seat and walked over to me, taking my hands in hers with a firm but gentle grip, and helped me to my feet.

“Volveremos enseguida; vamos a mi habitación.” (We'll be right back; we're going to my room) Alexia announced to Alba and Marina.

She didn't wait for their response; instead, she led me towards her room, closing the door softly behind us as we entered.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me closer. “What's wrong? Are you okay? You’re very quiet” she asked, concern all over her face.

“I'm fine” I told her with a small smile, hoping to reassure her.

“Lately you’ve been acting really weird, you’re very distant” she pointed out, her eyes searching mine for answers.So she did noticed my behavior.

“I already told you, Alexia, it’s because of work. I’m stressed” I replied a bit harshly, instantly regretting my tone.

Seeing the hurt and concern on her face made me feel really bad. I shouldn’t have snapped at her; she didn’t deserve that.

I sighed and embraced her. Though it felt so good to be in her arms, there was this indescribable feeling inside me.

Maybe I should tell her how I really feel right now, instead of acting the way I am. It hurts both of us, and I don’t want to push her away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you” I said, burying my face in her neck, trying to convey my remorse through the closeness.

She gently pulled my head away and looked into my eyes. “It’s okay, cariño” she said tenderly, her voice soothing my troubled mind.

We gazed at each other for a few seconds, the world around us fading away. Her eyes flickered down to my lips a couple of times, and I could see the hesitation and desire in her gaze. She then slowly leaned in, her eyes closed, and I closed mine too, anticipating the moment.

She was so close to me, I could feel her breath on my lips, but then the door swung open, and Alexia immediately pulled away, the moment shattered.

WHY?!

“Mario esta aqui” (Mario is here) Marina said, watching us intently, then glaring at me as if I had done something wrong.

“Sí, ya vamos.” (Oh yeah, we’re coming) Alexia said, looking at her, her voice steady but her eyes reflecting the frustration of the interrupted moment.

Marina left, leaving the door open, and Alexia looked back at me with a mixture of regret and determination. “Vamos” she said, walking away, and I followed, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between us.

Making my way back to the living room, I met Mario who seems to be a very nice and kind man.We talked for a little bit about how we are all exited to see Alexia with pink hair.

——

After a while, Alexia was sitting on a chair scrolling through her phone as Mario worked his magic on her hair. I was nestled on the couch with Nala on my lap, gently stroking her fur.

Marina and Alba were engaged in a lively conversation at the kitchen table, their voices a soft murmur in the background.

At one point, Marina excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Alba took the opportunity to come and sit beside me.

Despite her presence, I kept my gaze fixed on Nala, my fingers continuing their soothing motions through her fur.

Alba rested her head on my shoulder and softly asked, “Esta noche vamos a salir con Alexia y Marina. ¿Quieres venir con nosotras?” (Tonight we are going out with Alexia and Marina. Do you want to come with us?) The thought of spending more time with that woman, whom I had known for less than three hours and already disliked intensely, was unbearable. There was no way I was going to have dinner with her.

“No” I replied curtly. My mood was sour, and I had no desire to engage in conversation. Alba had been ignoring me since we arrived, and I felt no inclination to talk to her now.

Alba lifted her head from my shoulders and looked at me, “Por que?” (Why?)she questioned, confusion lacing her voice.

“Simplemente no quiero.” (I just don’t want to) I told her, not looking at her, my voice stern. I could feel the tension building up inside me, a mix of frustration and sadness.

“Te conozco, sé que la presencia de Marina te está molestando.” (I know you, I know that Marina being here is bothering you) she said matter-of-factly, her eyes searching mine for a reaction.

“¡Por supuesto que me molesta! ¿Cómo te sentirías si la ex de tu posible novia todavía estuviera en contacto con ella y parecieran ser las mejores amigas?” (Of course it bothers me! How would you feel if the ex of your potential girlfriend was still in contact with her and they seemed like they were the best of friends?) I told her, whispering so that Alexia wouldn’t hear it. My voice was trembling slightly, betraying the calm facade I was trying to maintain.

“Vale, pero a menos que me haya perdido de algo, tú y Alexia no están juntas, así que, como le dijiste la noche del cumpleaños de Bianca, no tienes derecho a estar celosa.” (Okay, but unless I missed something, you and Alexia are not together, so like you told her the night of Bianca’s birthday, you have no right to be jealous) she told me harshly. Her words cut deep, and I felt a pang of guilt mixed with the sting of truth.

It surprised me because Alba had never talked to me like that before. Her tone was usually gentle and understanding, but now it was firm and unyielding.

I bit my lips, trying to stop the tears from coming out.

Obviously, Alba loved Marina; I could see it in the way they talked and laughed with each other. It was like they had their own little world.

What if Alba is not against the idea of Alexia and Marina getting together? The thought made my chest tighten, and I felt a wave of loneliness wash over me.

I looked at Alba, my eyes filled with a mix of emotions, before turning my gaze back to Nala on my lap. Words seemed unnecessary at that moment.

Marina returned from the bathroom, her presence immediately drawing attention as she made her way over to Alexia, who was seated and getting her hair washed.

The scene before me unfolded like a slow-motion movie, every detail etched into my mind.

The two of them were laughing and chatting, their chemistry undeniable. They looked like a couple, completely at ease with each other.

At one point, Marina wrapped an arm around Alexia’s shoulders, and Alexia responded by encircling Marina’s waist with her own arm. It was a gesture so intimate that it made my heart ache.

Marina caught my eye and smirked knowingly, aware of the effect their closeness had on me. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it stung.

Seeing them together like that was painful. In that moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that Alexia still harbored feelings for Marina. After all, Marina was her first love, and they had shared almost a decade together. It was only natural that some feelings might still linger.

The weight of the situation became too much to bear. I couldn't stay there any longer; witnessing their affection was like a dagger to my heart. I gently picked up Nala, who had been my silent companion through it all, and placed her carefully on the couch.

“Voy a irme ahora.” (I’m going to go now) I announced softly, trying to keep my voice steady as I addressed everyone in the room.

“¿Qué? ¿Por qué?” (What? Why?) Alexia’s voice was filled with surprise and confusion as she looked at me, her brows furrowed in concern.

“No me siento bien. Creo que necesito ir a casa y descansar un poco.” (I don’t feel good. I think I need to go home and rest a little) I lied quickly, making my way to the door, my heart pounding in my chest.

"But you can go to my room and lie on my bed if you'd like," Alexia said in english, her voice soft and pleading. "Just let me finish with my hair, and then I'll take care of you, cariño."

She was trying so hard to make me stay, her eyes filled with desperation and hope. I could feel the warmth and sincerity in her words, making it even harder to leave.

“No,thank you” I said quickly and opened the door and telling everyone goodbye.

“¡Espera! Te acompañaré hasta tu coche.” (Wait! I’ll accompany you to your car) Alba said, rising swiftly to her feet.

I nodded and made my way out of the apartment, not waiting for Alba.

Outside the building, I walked briskly to my car, with Alba trailing behind me, trying to keep up with my pace.

“Y/N, espera” (wait) she called out, her voice tinged with desperation, but I didn't stop. I unlocked my car and slid into the driver's seat.

Alba quickly moved in front of my car, her face flushed with urgency. “Lo siento mucho, Y/N. No debería haberte dicho eso.”(I'm so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have told you that) she apologized, her eyes pleading with me.

“Es lo que sea“ (It's whatever) I responded flatly, my gaze fixed on her.

“Por favor, por favor, habla con mi hermana sobre esto. No te alejes de ella. Sé que está confundida ahora, pero te aseguro que tiene muchos sentimientos por ti“ (Please, please talk to my sister about this. Don't pull away from her. I know she's confused right now, but I can assure you that she has so many feelings for you) she implored, her sincerity evident in her voice.

“¿De verdad? Parece que también tiene muchos sentimientos por su ex“ (Does she? She seems like she has a lot of feelings for her ex too) I retorted sarcastically, raising my eyebrows in disbelief.

“Sí, es verdad que está muy cerca de su ex. Pero ya se acabó entre ellos. Solo te quiere a ti, no a ella” (Yes, she's really close with her ex, that's true. But it's over between them. She only wants you, Y/N, not her) Alba insisted, her desperation growing more palpable.

I studied her for a moment, noting the earnestness in her eyes. She seemed absolutely desperate to make me believe her words.

I sighed heavily. “Voy ahora. Es la última semana de clases; tengo cosas que hacer.”(I'm going now. It's the last week of school; I have things to do) I said, avoiding eye contact. “Adios” (Bye) I continued, shutting my door and starting the engine.

As I drove away, I couldn't help but feel the weight of Alba's words lingering in my mind.

——

Upon arriving back at my apartment, I immediately collapsed onto my bed. As I looked at my phone, I noticed several missed calls and text messages from Alexia. With a heavy sigh, I locked my phone and set it aside.

This entire situation feels incredibly overwhelming. From the very beginning, I sensed it would be complicated, but I chose to ignore the warning signs.

I was so consumed by my own desires and selfishly chasing my own happiness that I overlooked the potential consequences. Now, the weight of those choices is bearing down on me, and it's hard to see a way out.

I was desperately seeking happiness. Even though I was fully aware that Alexia wasn't looking for a relationship, the mere thought of having her close to me brought immense comfort and joy.

Her presence, even without the promise of a future together, was enough to make me feel content and hopeful. It was as if just being near her could fill the void I felt inside, and I couldn't resist the allure of that happiness, even if it was fleeting.

However, these past few days have made me realize that this so-called "relationship" with Alexia is causing more pain than happiness. The emotional turmoil and constant uncertainty are taking a toll on me, overshadowing the moments of joy I once cherished.

I know what I need to do; I have to end this “relationship” It's a difficult decision, but I need to prioritize my well-being and find a path that leads to genuine happiness and peace.

The mere thought of it brought tears to my eyes, and before I knew it, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

Each tear felt like a release of the pent-up emotions I'd been holding in for so long. I cried until I was exhausted, my body shaking with each sob.

Eventually, the overwhelming fatigue took over, and I cried myself to sleep, my pillow damp with tears.

——

I woke up startled by a persistent knocking on my door. Groggily, I got up and made my way to the front door.

As I passed by the entrance mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself and realized I looked like a complete mess.

My face was red and puffy, my eyes were swollen from crying, and my hair was a tangled, disheveled disaster. I was the very definition of a hot mess.

Despite not caring much about my appearance at that moment, I opened the door. There stood Alexia, holding a bag in her hand.

Her eyes widened slightly upon seeing me, and I couldn't blame her—I probably looked quite scary.

Alexia, on the other hand, looked stunning. Her pink hair framed her face perfectly, and I couldn't help but think how right I was about it suiting her so well.

“Hi, come in” I told her, opening the door wider to let her into the apartment.

She stepped inside and headed straight for the kitchen counter, where she began to unload her bag. Out came some soup, bottles of water, a few medicines, and a small box.

“¿Todavía te sientes mal? Le pedí a mi mamá la receta de la sopa que solía hacer para Alba y para mí cuando estábamos enfermos.” (Do you still feel sick? I asked my mom for the soup recipe she used to make for Alba and me when we were sick) she explained, moving closer. I instinctively stepped back, trying to avoid any physical contact with her.

“You did this for me?” I asked, feeling a bit touched by her thoughtfulness.

She nodded. “Yeah, well, Marina helped me with it” she admitted, and immediately, I felt a surge of anger.

There was no way I was going to eat that. I’m sure that bitch poisoned it.

“Can we talk?” I asked her gently as she was about to heat up the soup.

“Yes, I'm just warming this up for you” she replied, looking back at me with a soft smile.

“No need, I won't eat it, I’m not sick” I said firmly, making my way to the couch and signaling for her to join me.

She looked puzzled but followed me. She sat down beside me, her movements hesitant.

She reached out to take my hand, but I pulled it away, unable to mask my unease.

Her face fell, and she looked at me with a mix of confusion and hurt.

“Is something wrong? Alba also told me that I should come talk to you” she said, her voice tinged with worry. She leaned in slightly, searching my face for answers.

“Who is Marina?” I asked her directly, my eyes locked onto hers with determination.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “You know who she is. You met her this afternoon. She's my friend” she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“No, who is she really? And please, tell me the truth” I insisted, my voice firm, “I already know who she truly is I just want to hear it from you.”

She sighed deeply. “Ella es mi exnovia.” (She's my ex-girlfriend) she murmured, her voice tinged with shame.

I nodded slowly, absorbing the information. “Why wouldn't you tell me that you and your ex are in contact and, from what I saw, really good friends?” I asked, my tone firm but controlled.

“No pensé que fuera gran cosa“ (I didn't think it was a big deal) she whispered, her fingers nervously playing with the fabric of her lap.

“What do you mean, not a big deal? Maybe not for you, but for me it is!” I exclaimed, my voice rising slightly. “Please explain to me how this happened” I continued, taking a deep breath to calm myself.

“It happened before I left for the Champions League final. She contacted me again, telling me that she was coming back to live in Spain. At first, I didn't really want to see her, but then she insisted and asked we could talk so I said yes.” She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then continued, “We talked things out, caught up on life, my career, and hers. I don't know... it feels like old times...” she trailed off, her voice filled with nostalgia. I closed my eyes, biting my lip in frustration.

“It feels like old times...” she clearly reminded of their past relationship.

“She was with you at the club after winning the Champions League” I pointed out, my voice tinged with suspicion.

“Sí, esa noche ella se sentía un poco deprimida, así que la invité allí para animarla.” (Yes, that night she was feeling a little down, so I invited her there to cheer her up) she explained, biting her lip nervously and avoiding my gaze.

“Does she sleep at your apartment?” I asked, my tone sharp and accusing.

“She only slept one night, and it was yesterday. She got into a fight with her mom and didn’t have a place to stay, so I told her to stay with me” she explained again, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a hint of anxiety.

“Did you slept with her,I mean together on your bed”I asked nervously,scared of the answer.

“No, I slept on the couch and she slept on my bed.” Alexia simply responded firmly.

I nodded slowly, processing her words. “If it wasn't a big deal, why didn't you tell me she was back? Why did I have to find out from pictures and from Alba, who told me you guys dated for 8 years,?” I asked, my frustration evident.

If it wasn't a big deal, why didn't she tell me? There must be something else she’s not saying...

“No sé” (I don't know) was all she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I scoffed, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. “You don't know... I repeated, shaking my head.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” I asked, my voice cracking a little bit, betraying the storm of emotions within me.

Upon hearing the tremor in my voice, Alexia looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t think so...”she trailed off, and as her words hung in the air, I felt my own tears begin to fall, unstoppable.

“It’s a yes or no answer, Alexia,” I told her firmly, trying to wipe away my tears, but it was futile as more streamed down my face.

Alexia hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. “I... I can’t lie to you... When I first saw her again and talked to her, I felt things. But I promise you, with time, all those feelings went away. You made them go away. You were the only one on my mind” she said, her voice gaining strength and urgency.

When she confessed the first part of her sentence, I felt my heart plummet.

All this time, my thoughts and heart had been solely dedicated to her, and to think that at one point her heart and thoughts had been dedicated to someone else was a pain I hadn’t anticipated.

The realization hit me hard, and the hurt was almost too much to bear.

I decided not to mention how I thought her ex was a bitch to me; now isn't the right moment.

However, I was planning to share with her how isolated I felt throughout the entire afternoon.

“I felt awful all afternoon. It seemed like you were all ignoring me, speaking in Catalan, and living in your own world. It felt as if Marina was the only one who mattered, and I was just on the sidelines” I quietly told her, still feeling hurt.

“Lo siento mucho, cariño. Estábamos tan atrapados en recordar el pasado y compartir viejas historias que no nos dimos cuenta de que te estábamos excluyendo” (I'm so sorry, we were all so caught up in reminiscing about the past and sharing old stories that we didn't realize we were excluding you) she tried to explain, her voice filled with regret.

I could see the genuine remorse in her eyes, but at that moment, my feelings of hurt overshadowed any empathy I might have had. It felt like no matter what she said, the sting of being sidelined wouldn't easily fade away.

“I...”I began, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “I think it's time to end whatever this is between us” I whispered softly, my voice trembling.

“¡¿Qué!? ¡No! Por favor, por favor, no hagas eso. Haré cualquier cosa por ti.” (What!? No! Please, please don't do that! I'll do anything for you) she pleaded, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. Her desperation was palpable, and it crushed me even more.

“I'm sorry, Alexia, but this whole situation is a mess... We're just hurting each other...”I paused, wiping my own tears as they fell. “It feels like all we do is hurt each other...” I moved closer to her, taking her hand in mine, feeling the warmth and the tremble of her fingers.

“You're not hurting me; you bring me happiness” she said, her voice shaking as she tried to convince me.

Her eyes were filled with pain and sorrow, and it tore at my heart. “Por favor, no me dejes. Te necesito” (Please, don't leave me. I need you.)

“Alexia…” I trailed off “we are hurting each other… plus look our relationship has not even started yet and you’re already hiding things from me” I told her squeezing her hand.

I hate seeing her like that.

“Lo siento mucho” (I’m so sorry) she said looking at me with so much pain in her eyes.

“Don’t apologized, it’s okay” no, it’s not.

After a few agonizing minutes of silence, the room filled with the sound of our sniffles.

Alexia slowly pulled her hand away and stood up, her movements heavy with sorrow.

“Well…um…Voy a irme ahora” (I’m going to go now) she said painfully, her voice cracking as she wiped away her tears.

I got up too, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. We walked towards the door together, each step feeling like a goodbye. Just as she reached the door, she turned around, her eyes pleading as she opened her arms for a hug.

I hugged her tightly, desperate to hold onto the warmth of her embrace one last time. Her body trembled against mine as she whispered in my ear, “Thank you for bringing me so much happiness these last few weeks,” and then she softly kissed my cheek before pulling away.

“Thank you, for making me happy” I told her, my voice barely above a whisper as I smiled softly at her. She returned the smile, though it was tinged with the same sadness that filled the room.

She then turned around and exited my apartment, leaving me standing there, watching her disappear from my life. I closed the door slowly, the finality of the moment hitting me like a ton of bricks.

I stayed frozen in place, my eyes locked on the door that Alexia had just walked through. The emptiness in the room seemed to echo my own feelings. I had never felt so heartbroken over someone I hadn't even officially dated.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to gather myself and made my way to the kitchen table. I sank into a chair, staring blankly at the empty space in front of me. That's when I noticed the small box that Alexia had brought earlier, sitting there like a poignant reminder of what had just been lost.

Reaching out for the box with trembling hands, I opened it, revealing a small note that read, “Para mí cariño” adorned with a delicate little heart. Beneath the note lay a necklace with a butterfly pendant, each wing intricately inscribed with our initials.

I was stunned. I had only mentioned to her once that butterflies were my favorite insects, and yet she had remembered and chosen something so personal and meaningful.

The realization hit me like a wave, and I couldn't help but sob uncontrollably. The depth of her thoughtfulness and the memories we shared overwhelmed me.

I had lost her, and the pain was almost unbearable, but deep down, I knew it was for the best... or at least, I hoped it was.

#woso #woso soccer #woso community #woso appreciation #futfem #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #women’s football #woso one shot #fcb femení #woso x reader #woso imagine

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astraystayyh · 8 months

Text

please fall before i fall

jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))

summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.

winter falls masterlist.

a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski

One.

Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number.

“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold.

“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?”

“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be.

He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you.

That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing.

“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”

“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips.

He thinks he likes you a little.

“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own.

“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window.

“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”

“I’m coming!”

An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then.

He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch.

He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you.

Perhaps he likes you a lot.

“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”

“You're best friends with said insane man.”

“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own.

Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.

“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger.

“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze.

“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.

“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”

“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.

“Well deserved,” you whisper.

“I heard that.”

“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch.

“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter.

The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you.

He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it.

“Yeah, I probably will.”

He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try.

Two.

Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him.

Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge.

“Remind me why we're doing this again?”

“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”

“Your sixteen years old brother?”

“Yes.”

“You are in college.”

“I know.”

“Why are you taking it to heart?”

“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes.

“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”

A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring.

“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak.

“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.

“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”

“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”

“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.

“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales.

“You did not tell me you ever did that!”

“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”

“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.

“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”

“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.

“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.

The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.

“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.

“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.

“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.

“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.

He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul.

He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.

“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions.

It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features.

Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more.

He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you.

Three.

"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”

“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe.

“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up.

“Um. I have a date tonight.”

“Oh.”

His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.

Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.

“Should I go?”

“I mean… Why are you asking me?”

“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask.

A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children.

Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type.

“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.

Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”

“He's nice.”

“Mm.”

Could you lose something you never had in the first place?

“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.”

“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”

“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.”

You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed.

“That one's just for you.”

Four.

You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.

The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin.

But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you.

But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile.

So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring.

“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path.

“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street.

“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too.

“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?”

“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?”

He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process.

“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.

You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.

“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.

“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.

“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.

“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”

“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.

“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.

“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him.

“I'm comforting you.”

“You don't like hugs.”

“It's different when it comes to you.”

You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.

“Where is your date?”

“I didn't go.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire.

“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”

“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers.

“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”

Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.

“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”

“You love me?”

“You're my favorite season.”

“Don't steal my lines.”

“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten.

Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?

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formosusiniquis · 8 months

Text

This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

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alrightberries · 11 months

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nitroglycerine | k.bkg

SUMMARY: "you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes."

alternatively, the weird in between of fuck buddies to lovers.

TAGS & WARNINGS: idiots to lovers, implied sex, both of you are bad at feelings

"do you like me, katsuki?"

katsuki looks good tonight, you think. out in the balcony, bathed in moonlight and the soft glow from the lights of his room. the left side of his hair's bedhead mussed from where he'd slept next to you and he's wearing your hair tie on his wrist, hands nursing the #1 sexiest hero mug you'd gotten him as a gag gift for christmas two years ago that he swore he'd throw away.

he looks good tonight, you think, marked with little pieces of you. he looks like he's yours.

"fuck's that supposed to mean?" he doesn't answer the question, and you bite back a smile at the red tinting his cheeks. you tell yourself it's from the cold.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your shoulder. "do you like me?"

"no, you're annoying."

"oh, fuck you—"

"—again? you're greedy tonight aren't ya."

your cheeks warm. "that's not what i meant and you know it."

his shoulders shrug the slightest, and the teasing smirk he gives you feels far too close to a smile, one that he hides when he takes a sip from his hot chocolate.

"do you like me?" you repeat your question. this time he sighs, like the drama queen he is.

"yes, alright?" katsuki realizes too late that his words are a little too airy, a little too soft to be a snarky reply, so he amends it with "wouldn't let you mark me up if i didn't."

it's then that your eyes drop to the hickeys on his neck, trailing down his bare chest and disappearing into the hem of his sweats. you know you're no better with the finger shaped bruises on your thighs and the bite marks underneath your— his shirt.

you don't know why you like marking each other up so much. maybe it's because you both need to keep your lips preoccupied. katsuki doesn't like kissing, says it's too intimate for a friends with benefits situation. you've slept together, yes, multiple times, but you've never been... intimate, with him.

(that's a lie, your brain supplies. he's held you close late at night, fully clothed and feeling like putty in his arms when you tell him a shitty a joke that has him barking out a laugh, vibrations on his chest reverberating against your cheek; he's taken you out on not-dates, telling you to dress pretty, i'll pick ya up at seven and ended the night not in his bed but on his kitchen counter, with his sleeves rolled up and a cocky grin on his face when your eyes light up after he feeds you a spoonful of the lasagna he's cooking because he decided the restaurant couldn't make good food to save its life. he's the friend you sleep with every now and then, sure... but you haven't been just friends for a while now.)

you hum at his response, and it's followed by a light shake of your head. "i knew you'd say that," you mumble.

"if you knew what i'd say then what was the point of asking?"

you shrug. "wanted to hear it come from you."

he only nods in lieu of a reply, and you silently take the mug when he offers it to you, content when the hot chocolate warms your body before handing it back to him.

it's when he's taking a sip that you decide to ask, "do you love me?" and katsuki nearly spits out his drink. you're laughing and staring at him with amused eyes, and he's trying not to choke with a mutter of what the hell, y/n before he gathers his composure.

then he's tossing your question around his head and he looks at you. really looks at you.

your eyes look pretty tonight, he thinks. bare faced and smelling like his sheets, wearing the first shirt you saw when you opened his closet. he didn't bother telling you it was his favorite, not when you looked at him so sweetly when you asked him if you could borrow it, brain taking one look at you in his clothes and immediately deciding that this version of you is the sexiest and he can't help the way his hands are drawn to your waist, nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck and almost purring when he realizes he can smell his laundry detergent and soap mixed with your scent.

and yeah, your eyes look pretty tonight, he thinks. your eyes look pretty when they're only looking at him.

"no."

"you don't?"

"i don't."

there's a gust of wind that surrounds you, and he pulls you closer when he notices you shiver, mug forgotten on his little table. he's warm— unfairly so— when he brings his arms on either side your body, trapping you between the metal railing and his chest. when you risk a glance at him, red eyes are staring into yours, and your heart just about stops, all the air knocked from your lungs from the way he looks at you.

and then you compose yourself, lips curling into what you hoped was a teasing smile.

"liar."

"m'not lying,"

"you sure?"

"if you knew what i'd say then what was the point of asking?" he repeats his question from earlier. so you shrug, turning away from him and his intense gaze as you murmur, "wanted to hear it come from you."

there's a beat that passes, and katsuki's body is still behind you. you could almost hear the conflict in his head, his internal debate. one side wins over the other, you think, because your heart nearly jump out of your chest when the arms that were once beside your body suddenly find their way around your waist, and he rests his chin on your shoulder with a sigh.

"maybe if you ask properly," he finally responds, his warm hands finding your cold ones. you hope he doesn't notice the way your pulse speeds up at his touch.

"okay," you murmur, suddenly aware of just how close katsuki really is. you'd been close to him before, underneath his sheets. but it was never... intimate, like this. his face was never pressed into your neck, like this. his hands were never holding yours, like this.

and there's— there's a warmth in your chest, one you tell yourself is there because of how close he is. katsuki feels so warm pressed up against you and you're dizzy from the way his smell fills your senses, could feel his heart beat from where it's pressed against your back. you wonder if katsuki could feel yours, too; your heart, the way it's beating so fast you're sure it's going to explode. briefly, you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes.

"bakugou katsuki," you announce teasingly, biting back a smile when you feel him scoff. "do you love me?"

it was meant to be a joke, at first. asking him. like asking him stupid stuff like would you love me if i was a worm? but now that it's out there— properly, like he'd said— it feels a little too real, a little too soon. cheeks feeling a little too warm for the cold air of the night, gaze a little too warm to be just a friend.

you aren't sure if you'd be heartbroken or relieved if katsuki said no— properly, like he'd said. you could laugh it off, write it off like the joke it was meant to be and you could go back to being... whatever the hell it is you two are. maybe this time you bit off more than you could chew, maybe you should've backed off when you still could and take back your question, crawl back into his bed before you actually do feel what his nitroglycerine does before it happens: warm in his hands, before it explodes in your face.

but you've never been good at knowing what's bad for you.

"well?" you murmur at his silence, "do you?"

"you want the good answer or the real answer?" his question makes your heart drop. it's a cold douse of water to your face, and suddenly you can feel the chilly air again, hands too cold for your own good. it's nitroglycerine, exploding in your face.

"well?" he murmurs when your reply takes too long for his liking. then he's leaning in, somehow making the already small space between you even smaller, and his eyes glance down to your lips. your heart begins to race again.

maybe it's the way he's looking at you that makes you feel brave, brave enough to glance at his lips, too, before you murmur, "the real answer."

your heart's in your throat and his heart's on his sleeve, but katsuki doesn't reply. instead, his hand's on your cheek and your eyes are fluttering shut, lips tingling at the sear of his kiss. only this time, it's katsuki who feels it— what nitroglycerine feels like: warm in your touch, explosions on his lips.

#lil warm up to get back into the swing of things #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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stsgluver · 9 months

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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.”

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school.

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone.

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room.

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen.

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse.

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves.

“merry christmas!”

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief.

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room.

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right.

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away.

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen

this tag list is insane ty all for the support

#snapshot #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo fic #gojo x you #jjk #jjk fluff

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