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a-lexia11 · 3 days

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Womanizer (Part 2)

Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count:Around 12k

Warning: HIGHLY suggestive (Minors DNI), some angst

Part 1

That was tougher than Alexia had anticipated. Over the past two weeks, she has struggled intensely to suppress her usual habits—no flirting, no checking out other women, no casual sex.

It's been a challenge she hadn’t fully grasped when she made the bet with you. She’s accustomed to moving from one woman to the next, and this sudden shift is excruciating.

Each day without her usual indulgences feels like a trial, and the thought of enduring another two weeks feels almost unbearable. Yet, this pain dissipates whenever she looks at you.

Your captivating eyes, your radiant smile, your voice—they never fail to leave her in awe of your beauty.

The time you've spent together outside of the store, including with Mia, has only deepened her admiration for you.

When you’re not looking, she finds herself observing you, marveling at the kind of person and mother you are.

Alexia is determined to take you on that date, but she’s realized that her feelings for you extend beyond just physical desire.

She yearns for something deeper, something more meaningful, though she’s unsure how to convey it. Her plan is to show you her seriousness through her actions.

Once you see that she’s committed to this path and genuinely not interested in anyone else, you’ll understand her true intentions.

At the moment, you were behind the register at the store, handling some clients while Alexia carried Mia, helping her reach the flowers she couldn’t quite get.

Carmen was away this week, and she trusted you enough to take care of her store. To ensure you weren’t alone, Alexia was here as often as she could be.

After finishing with a client, you watched as a tall, young, and undeniably attractive woman entered the store—definitely Alexia’s type. You couldn’t wait to see Alexia’s reaction and whether she’d break her bet.

As Alexia and Mia returned to you at the register, Alexia asked, “Mia’s hungry. Did you bring any food, or should I run out and grab something?” She gently placed Mia on the counter while you leaned in to give your daughter a kiss on the cheek.

“No, it’s okay, Ale. I packed something in her backpack in the back room,” you replied. Before you could fetch it, Mia eagerly jumped in, “I’ll go!” She asked Alexia to put her down and ran towards the back room.

Alexia turned to you with a playful grin. “What’s up?” she asked.

“You called me Ale,” Alexia pointed out, still smiling. “You never do. It’s always Alexia… admit it, you like me,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

You laughed at her antics. “Oh, stop it. It’s just a nickname. Just like you call me ‘guapa’,” you said, and Alexia’s smile widened.

“I know you like me,” she said with a wink.

Just then, the woman from earlier approached Alexia, interrupting your playful exchange. Alexia briefly acknowledged her with a smile before turning back to you.

“Disculpa”the woman said, “¿Podrías, por favor, hacer un ramo con estas flores?” She handed you a handful of flowers she had picked out. (Excuse me,could you please make these into a bouquet?)

“Por supuesto.” you replied, taking the flowers and moving to the counter to start arranging them. (Of course)

Mia reappeared, munching on her sandwich. “Mommy, I found it!” she announced, approaching you.

“Good job, baby. Here, sit down and eat,” you said, pulling out a chair for her. She complied and quietly ate her sandwich.

You glanced over at Alexia and the woman as they engaged in a conversation. The woman seemed to be flirting with Alexia, but to your surprise, Alexia was quite dismissive, not engaging in the flirtation at all.

Leaning in a bit, you tried to catch their conversation. “¿Puedo tener tu número de teléfono? Quizás podríamos volver a vernos.” the woman asked. (Can I have your phone number? Maybe we could meet up again?)

You held your breath, waiting for Alexia’s response. With a firm yet polite tone, Alexia replied, “No, gracias. No estoy interesada.” (No, thank you. I’m not interested.)

You were actually impressed—Alexia had just rejected a beautiful woman. She was serious about the bet, and that realization hit you harder than expected.

The woman didn’t push her luck and, after nodding her head, distracted herself with her phone.

Meanwhile, Alexia had already made her way over to you, casually lifting Mia from her chair and settling her on her lap.

She sat down like it was the most natural thing, Mia cuddling against her easily, a familiar comfort between them that made your heart soften.

As you finished wrapping the bouquet for the woman, you handed it over with a polite smile.

Once she thanked you and left the store, your attention immediately shifted back to Alexia and Mia. Alexia shot you a wink, her smirk playful and full of mischief.

Mia hopped off Alexia’s lap, grabbing her sandwich and skipping toward the back room to announcing that she wanted some water bottle.

The second your daughter was out of sight, you turned toward Alexia, clapping your hands together with exaggerated disbelief.

“I’m impressed. You actually rejected a woman?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Damn, didn’t think you had it in you,” you teased, folding your arms.

Alexia, still lounging in her chair, rolled her eyes dramatically. Before you could react, she grabbed your hand firmly, pulling you toward her until you were standing right between her legs.

Then, with little effort, she slid her hands behind your thighs, forcing you to straddle her lap. You let out a surprised gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around her shoulders to steady yourself.

“Alexia!” you yelled, your cheeks flushed from the unexpected move. She only grinned, loving how easily she could fluster you.

Her arms circled your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you tightly against her. You could feel the warmth of her body against yours, her breath hot against your ear as she leaned in, her voice dropping low.

“Dios, I can’t wait for the day you scream my name like that when I finally get you in my bed,” she whispered teasingly.

A shiver ran down your spine at her words, and you tried to maintain composure, even as goosebumps spread across your skin.

You slapped her shoulder lightly, trying to regain control of the moment. “You wish,” you muttered, though your voice lacked the firmness you wanted.

Alexia’s hands slid slowly up your waist, her touch gentle and lingering as she looked directly into your eyes. Her expression softened, becoming more sincere.

“I rejected her because I’m only interested in one woman,” she said, her voice more serious now. “Y esa mujer... pronto va a salir conmigo” (And that woman… she’s going to go on a date with me soon.)

You were caught off guard by how genuine she sounded, her gaze locking onto yours with that look of admiration she always had when you weren’t looking.

You hesitated for a moment before letting your hand rest on her cheek, gently caressing her skin. Alexia closed her eyes at the touch, her lips brushing against your palm in a soft, tender kiss.

Before you could get too caught up in the moment, you reminded her, “You’ve still got two weeks left, don’t forget.”

You quickly slipped off her lap, putting some distance between you two before Mia could return and witness anything.

Alexia simply leaned back in her chair, a smug grin spreading across her face. “Two weeks is nothing,” she said confidently, her eyes still fixed on you. “I can do it.”

And from the way she looked at you, part of you believed she just might.

——

The two weeks were almost up, and Alexia hadn’t cracked once. You were impressed. Only two more days to go, and despite all the tempting situations, she hadn’t given in.

Over the past couple of weeks, you’d seen her reject every woman who so much as looked her way, whether at the store, in the street, or when you went out together.

The women barely got a “hola” in before Alexia was shaking her head, firmly saying, “No estoy interesada.” (I’m not interested)

And every single time, she’d wink at you with that familiar smirk, playfully calling you her “future wife.” You’d laugh and shake your head, amused but also undeniably touched by how serious she was about the bet.

But it wasn’t just the rejections that had caught your attention. Watching Alexia with Mia was what really made your heart flutter. Over the weeks, Alexia had become Mia’s favorite person.

She’d take her to the park, push her on the swings, or take her on long walks with Nala. Mia was obsessed, constantly asking when Alexia would be back and begging you to call her whenever she had a new drawing or just to say goodnight.

Alexia was equally as obsessed with Mia—teaching her new Spanish words, cuddling her when she got tired, playing with her... The two had developed a bond that was impossible to ignore.

But today, with just two days left, you decided to test Alexia’s patience a bit more.

You were unloading flowers from a delivery truck at the store, working with Pedro, the delivery guy. He was charming, a bit flirty even, but you hadn’t really engaged—until you saw Alexia walk in.

The moment she spotted you talking to Pedro, her whole demeanor changed. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Pedro like he was some kind of threat.

You smirked inwardly. She was jealous, and you couldn’t resist teasing her a little.

Pedro handed you the delivery papers to sign, standing a little too close as he made small talk. “No te había visto aquí antes. ¿Eres nueva?”he asked with a friendly smile. (I haven’t seen you here before. Are you new?)

“Sí, lo soy.” you responded, watching Alexia out of the corner of your eye. Her expression darkened as Pedro continued chatting with you. (Yes I am)

He then switched to English, showing off a bit. “Ah, you’re not from Spain, huh? You’ve got a lovely accent,” Pedro complimented, leaning in slightly.

Alexia, standing by Carmen, was visibly fuming. She wasn’t even pretending to listen to Carmen anymore.

Her eyes were locked on Pedro, her jaw tight, hands clenched at her sides. Her possessiveness was written all over her face.

Deciding to push it a little further, you laughed softly at one of Pedro’s jokes and lightly touched his arm.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to send Alexia over the edge. She shot forward like a bullet, striding over with a fake smile plastered on her face, her eyes sharp.

Without a word, Alexia slid her arm around your waist and tugged you close to her, forcing you to step away from Pedro.

“Hey, bebé, ¿ya terminaste aquí? Carmen te necesita en la parte de atrás” Alexia said sweetly, though her tone carried a thinly veiled edge. She pressed a soft kiss to your temple, her eyes locked on Pedro the entire time. (Hey, baby, are you done here? Carmen needs you in the back)

“Uh, yeah, I’m done,” you said, hiding your smirk as you pulled back slightly from Alexia’s grip. You thanked Pedro and signed off on the delivery, but Alexia’s hand remained possessively on your waist.

When Pedro finally walked away,but not before looking at you one more time, Alexia’s eyes followed him, her jealousy practically radiating off her in waves.

“Juro que si te mira una vez más… “Alexia muttered under her breath, her hand still gripping your waist protectively. (I swear, if he looked at you one more time…)

“Jealous, are we?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at her.

She scoffed, though her grip on you tightened. “I don’t get jealous.”

You laughed softly, knowing full well that wasn’t true. “Right. Sure.”

Alexia stayed at the store for the rest of the afternoon, supposedly to help Carmen, but you noticed she was really there to keep an eye on you.

Every chance she got, her eyes would dart in your direction, watching how you interacted with customers or the delivery guys.

And every time you acted just a little more friendly than usual—whether it was smiling a bit too much or laughing a little too loud—Alexia’s jaw would tighten, and her mood would darken.

At one point, another delivery guy showed up, and when he asked you about your day, you smiled and answered politely.

Alexia, who had been helping Carmen with a display, immediately stopped what she was doing and moved closer to where you were standing.

Her entire posture screamed protectiveness. She folded her arms and stood just a few feet away, glaring at the guy like he was public enemy number one.

“¿Necesitas ayuda aquí?”Alexia called out loudly, her voice dripping with false politeness. (You need help over here?)

The guy glanced at her, confused, but you shook your head. “No, I’ve got it,” you replied, biting back a grin as Alexia’s eyes narrowed even further.

You were thoroughly enjoying the power you had over her. Alexia was always the one in control, always the one with the upper hand when it came to the women she was with.

But now? Now you had her wrapped around your finger, and it felt incredible.

In the back room, Alexia cornered you, her eyes locking onto yours with a mix of frustration and amusement. “Do you enjoy torturing me?” she asked, her voice teasing yet edged with genuine curiosity as you turned around with a smirk.

“Absolutely,” you replied, savoring the satisfaction of seeing her reaction.

“That’s not fair,” she said, taking a step closer, her body language hinting at playful irritation. “I’m here, stuck not flirting with anyone, while you’re out here flirting with everyone,” she added, her gaze flickering with a mix of challenge and allure.

“Well, let me remind you,” you said, your tone light yet pointed, “it was your idea to avoid flirting and not sleep with anyone just to get a date with me.” You patted her shoulder reassuringly as she let out a huff of frustration.

“I know you’re jealous,” you said, your voice softening, “but don’t worry. In less than two days, it’ll be you I’m going out with, not anyone else… unless, of course, you break first.”

“I won’t break,” Alexia said firmly, her eyes flashing with determination. She moved closer, her hand slipping around your waist as she pulled you into her personal space.

“And after that date, you’ll love it so much that you’ll be begging for another date. Then, you and I will be having the greatest sex of your life,” she added with a cocky smirk, her tone dripping with confidence.

Lately, Alexia had become increasingly touchy with you, and though it was a change, you were thoroughly enjoying the closeness.

“Oh, really?” you whispered into her ear, your arms wrapping around her neck, the intimacy making your heart race.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “And I assured you you’ll be begging for more” She buried her nose in your hair, her voice trailing off as she inhaled deeply.

“I find that hard to believe,” you said, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. Her expression softened, the playfulness in her eyes turning to something more tender.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours. The sincerity in her voice made your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t wait for you to be mine,” Alexia continued, her tone earnest. “I’ll take care of you in every way you deserve, and I’ll make sure Mia is well cared for, too.” Her hand caressed your back gently, the tenderness of her touch almost making you swoon.

Her words were like a balm to your heart. She knew how to touch you deeply, speaking to both your own feelings and your love for Mia.

You smiled, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “I really hope that after this bet, you’ll still be able to keep your eyes and hands to yourself. Because, honestly, I want that too,” you confessed, your voice filled with gentle sincerity.

“I promised you,” Alexia said, leaning her forehead against yours, her eyes locked onto yours with unwavering sincerity. “I’m only interested in you, no one else…” she assured, her voice soft but filled with confidence.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief and affection. You kissed her cheek one last time before smiling, which she returned warmly. As you both walked out of the back room, you hoped with all your heart that her promise was true.

With each passing day, you were falling deeper for her, and the thought of heartbreak was becoming increasingly unbearable.

——

Today was finally here—date day. Alexia had truly impressed you by sticking to her commitment, and you were genuinely surprised by her dedication.

You approached Carmen, who was busy arranging flowers behind the counter. “Carmen, I was wondering if you could watch Mia tonight,” you asked, hoping she’d be available.

“Of course, I’d be happy to. Are you going out?” Carmen replied, her voice warm with curiosity.

“Yes, I have a date,” you said with a casual shrug. Carmen’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement.

“A date? That’s wonderful! Let me guess—it’s with Alexia?” Carmen asked, her smile widening as she glanced at you.

“Yes, how did you figure that out?” you asked, intrigued by her insight.

“Por favor! It’s been pretty obvious with the way you two have been looking at each other lately. You’ve definitely gotten closer,” Carmen said, her tone full of knowing amusement.

“Yeah, we did. We actually made a bet. If Alexia could go a month without flirting or being with anyone else, I’d go on a date with her,” you explained, smiling.

“Wow, she really pulled it off?” Carmen’s eyes were wide with astonishment.

“Yes, she did,” you confirmed, chuckling at her reaction.

“She must really like you,” Carmen said thoughtfully. “You know, Alexia has changed a lot since she met you. I can see it in the way she looks at you—there’s a genuine happiness in her eyes now,” Carmen added softly, her gaze filled with warmth.

You smiled, touched by her observation. Carmen knew Alexia like her own daughter, so her acknowledgment of this change meant a lot to you.

“I’ve noticed it too,” you admitted. “She’s been amazing with Mia and with me. It’s like she’s become a different person in the best way.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Carmen said, her smile gentle. “You both deserve to be happy. Enjoy your date tonight, and don’t worry about Mia—she’ll be in good hands.”

“Thank you, Carmen,” you said, your gratitude evident in your tone. “I really appreciate it.”

As Carmen gave you a reassuring nod, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness for the evening ahead.

That evening, after finishing the last touches of your makeup, you stood back and admired your reflection. Alexia had asked you to wear something casual but nice, so you chose a simple yet elegant combination: a soft blouse paired with a flattering skirt.

The anticipation for the night ahead had your heart racing slightly, though you tried to stay calm.

From the living room, you heard Carmen call out, “Y/N, Alexia’s here!” Her voice broke your focus, and you hurried out to greet her.

When you reached the living room, there was Alexia, standing confidently with not one, but two bouquets of flowers and a single flower in her hand.

She spotted you and her eyes lit up, the familiar smile that made your heart skip a beat curling at her lips.

“Hola, guapa,” Alexia said, her gaze sweeping from your head to your toes, taking in every detail of your outfit.

You approached her, leaning in for a hug. She smelled faintly of her favorite cologne, a comforting, familiar scent.

After the embrace, Alexia handed you a bouquet of red roses. “These are for you,” she said softly, watching your reaction.

Smiling warmly, you took the flowers. “Thank you, Alexia,” you replied, placing a kiss on her cheek, which made her grin grow wider.

Alexia then turned her attention to Carmen, holding out a bouquet of yellow roses. “Carmen, me di cuenta de que nunca te he traído flores, así que estas son para ti.” (Carmen, I realized I’ve never brought you flowers, so these are for you,” she said with a playful grin, handing her the bouquet)

Carmen’s eyes softened, clearly touched by the gesture. She pulled Alexia into a warm embrace, gently cradling her face in her hands before kissing her on the forehead. “Gracias, querida,” Carmen said lovingly, a motherly warmth in her voice.

Alexia chuckled softly, the bond between her and Carmen clear to see.

“Where’s Mia?” Alexia asked, looking back at you as you placed your bouquet in a vase in the kitchen.

Before you could respond, an excited voice shouted from the hallway. “Alexia!” Mia came racing into the room, her little feet barely touching the ground as she leapt straight into Alexia’s open arms.

“I missed you so much!” Mia squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around Alexia’s neck.

“I missed you too, nena,” Alexia responded, lifting Mia and holding her close. She then lowered her to the ground, pulling out a single white rose.

“Look what I got for you,” she said, handing the flower to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but your mommy gave me permission to choose your flower of the week.”

Mia’s eyes went wide with delight as she took the rose. “Thank you, Ale! It’s beautiful,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Alexia’s cheek.

“You’re welcome, mi amor,” Alexia replied, her expression softening as she watched Mia beam with excitement.

Mia rushed over to show you her flower, and you picked her up, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s beautiful, baby,” you told her, carrying her back toward Alexia and Carmen.

“Alright, baby, Alexia and I are going to head out now. Be good for Carmen, okay?” you said gently. Mia nodded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around your neck for one last hug. You kissed her cheek, smiling softly.

“Bye, baby. I love you,” you said. Mia waved with her small hand, her face lighting up with a big smile. “Love you too, Mommy,” she said sweetly.

She then turned her attention back to Alexia. “Bye-bye, Alexia!” Mia called, waving at her.

“Bye-bye, mi nena,” Alexia said, leaning down to kiss Mia’s little hand, earning a giggle from your daughter.

With a final look around the room, you and Alexia both said, “Bye, Carmen,” in unison, causing Carmen to laugh.

“Bye, girls! Have fun—but not too much fun!” Carmen teased, sending you both a playful wink. Alexia’s lips curled into a smirk at Carmen’s words, and you rolled your eyes, chuckling softly.

As Alexia and you made your way towards her car, she opened the door for you as you thanked her and she winked at you.

The ride to the restaurant was silent but peaceful.You find it kind of weird since Alexia is never silent and always have something to say.

Even though she’ll never admit it but Alexia was nervous and you could see it by the tap she does with the hand that is resting on her thigh.You decided to tease her a bit.

“You’re nervous” you asked her playfully and she just scoffed.

“Of course not” she said

“Yeah sure” you retorted pointing out her hand on her thigh and she immediately stopped as you laughed.

——

Arriving at the restaurant, you and Alexia were promptly seated at a cozy corner table, giving you just the right amount of privacy. The ambiance was warm, the soft glow of candles casting flickering shadows on the walls.

After being handed the menus, you both quickly decided on your meals, exchanging glances that carried a hint of excitement. It felt like something new was beginning.

When your food arrived, the conversation began to flow naturally between bites. Alexia, sitting across from you, seemed relaxed, more open than usual.

She started sharing stories about her family, reminiscing about childhood adventures with her sister, and funny moments with her friends.

You found yourself leaning in, captivated by the way she painted each story with vivid details. In return, you opened up about your own experiences, feeling a genuine connection deepening between you two.

Of course, it wasn’t long before Alexia, ever the tease, sprinkled in some playful flirtation and cheeky innuendos.

Her eyes gleamed with mischief every time she dropped a suggestive remark, her grin widening when you laughed or rolled your eyes at her antics. It was easy with her, the conversation flowing seamlessly from serious to lighthearted.

The chemistry between you was undeniable. You hadn’t been on a date in a long time, and Alexia made it feel special, like she’d put thought into every little detail. You could tell she wanted to make this night memorable for you, and so far, it was working.

But just as you started to fully relax, savoring both the food and the moment, something shifted. A subtle tension began creeping into the air, casting a shadow over the otherwise perfect evening.

But that date was about to take a turn for the worse… well, for Alexia.

“Ay! Do you remember that time you were telling me a story, but stopped halfway because I got distracted by another woman and wasn't paying attention?” she asked, her tone half-teasing, half-annoyed, as she narrowed her eyes at you. You nodded, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You never finished it! I want to know the end,” she insisted, leaning forward in her seat, waiting eagerly. You couldn't help but laugh softly at her persistence.

“Alright, alright. So, Mia and I were—“you started, but before you could get the words out, Alexia suddenly cut you off with a low, startled “Mierda,” her eyes darting past your shoulder.

“What? What is it?” you asked, your brows furrowing in confusion as you followed her gaze.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” she quickly muttered, trying to dismiss it, but her entire body had stiffened, and she looked like she was ready to slide under the table to avoid being seen.

The tension in her voice was unmistakable, so naturally, you turned around to see what was going on.

There, just a few feet behind you, stood a group of three girls waiting to be seated. They were scanning the room, completely unaware of the storm they were about to bring. You glanced back at Alexia, noticing how she was now staring down at the table, her head tilted just enough to avoid eye contact with anyone in the group.

It was clear she was trying to hide, but it was already too late

“Alexia?” you heard a voice call from behind, and one of the girls from the group stepped forward, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Alexia froze. Slowly, she looked up, giving the girl a strained, awkward smile. “Hola.. um, Alicia?” she asked tentatively, her voice faltering.

“No, es Martina,” the girl replied sharply, clearly offended by the mistake. “Sigo esperando esa llamada que me prometiste.” she added, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Alexia, completely ignoring your presence at the table.(No, it’s Martina. Still waiting for that call you promised me)

You blinked, glancing between Alexia and Martina, utterly bewildered by the situation.

“Uh, sí... sobre eso...” Alexia stammered, but before she could say anything more, another girl from the group stepped forward, her eyes widening in recognition. (Uh, yeah…about that…)

“¿Espera, Alexia?” she exclaimed, turning to Martina. “¿La conoces?” (Wait, Alexia?, You know her?)

“Sí, esta tonta y yo salimos como una semana.” Martina said bitterly. (Yeah, this idiot and I went out for like a week)

“Tuvimos sexo,y me prometió que me llamaría, pero me dejó en visto” Her voice was dripping with disdain, and you couldn't help but raise your eyebrows at Alexia, who was now staring at the table, her face flushed with embarrassment. (We had sex, and she promised she’d call, but she ghosted me)

“¡A mí me pasó lo mismo!” the second girl chimed in, her voice sharp with anger. (Same thing happened to me!)

“Nos acostamos, y luego, cuando me la encontré en la calle, actuó como si yo ni siquiera existiera.”She shot Alexia a venomous look, and you could see the color drain from Alexia’s face as she shrank further into her seat, looking like she wanted to vanish on the spot. (We hooked up, and then when I ran into her on the street, she acted like I didn’t even exist.)

As if things couldn't get any worse, the third girl from the group joined the conversation. “Chicas, la mesa está lista.” she said, then paused when her eyes landed on Alexia. (Girls, the table's ready)

“Alexia?” she asked, her face lighting up in recognition. You, on the other hand, closed your eyes and rubbed your temple, feeling the weight of the situation.

The other two girls whipped around to face their friend. “¿Tú también la conoces?”they asked in unison, their voices tinged with disbelief. (You know her too?)

“Si” the third girl replied with a sigh. “Nos acostamos hace un meses, y luego literalmente me sacó de su cama y me echó de su apartamento porque su hermana iba a venir. Luego se disculpó con flores, y tuvimos sexo de nuevo. Ella prometió que me llamaría, pero nunca lo hizo.¡Todavía tengo un moretón por eso!”she added, rolling her eyes dramatically, well that sounds familiar you thought. (We hooked up a couple of months ago, and then she literally pushed me out of her bed and kicked me out of her apartment because her sister was coming over. She then apologized with flowers and we had sex again, she promised she’ll called but she never did.I still have a bruise from it!)

At this point, you could barely believe what you were hearing. Your gaze slid over to Alexia, whose head was hanging low.

“¿También tuviste sexo con mis amigas?”Martina asked incredulously, her voice rising in anger. Alexia just nodded, biting her lip, knowing she was caught. (You slept with my friends too?)

Martina’s expression hardened as she grabbed Alexia’s champagne glass and, without a second thought, tipped it over Alexia’s head.

The liquid cascaded down her hair and onto her clothes. You gasped, eyes wide with shock.

“Eso es por acostarte con mis amigas.”Martina spat, her voice cold. (That’s for sleeping with my friends)

Before you could react, the second girl reached across the table, grabbing your champagne glass. Without hesitation, she poured it over Alexia as well. “Esto es por pretender que no existía y hacerme sentir como si estuviera loca” she said, her glare piercing through Alexia. (This is for pretending I didn’t exist and making me feel like I was crazy)

Finally, the third girl took the bottle of champagne that had been sitting in the middle of the table and dumped the entire thing over Alexia’s head. “Y esto,” she said with a smirk, “es por darme un moretón.” (And this is for giving me a bruise.)

The entire time, Alexia didn’t say a word. She just sat there, drenched in champagne, fully aware of how badly she had messed up.

Her usually confident demeanor was completely shattered, and she knew there was no escaping the consequences of her actions.

The three girls turned and walked away, but not before one of them lightly tapped you on the shoulder and said, “Buena suerte, tia” with a wink. (Good luck, girl)

The whole restaurant had gone deathly silent. You could feel everyone’s eyes on your table, all of them watching the fallout of Alexia’s disastrous past.

You smirked and picked up your fork, continuing to eat as if nothing had happened. She had it coming, and you couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated.

Alexia looked at you, her eyes wide with disbelief, but you just shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. You deserved it. You’re a jerk,” you said casually, turning back to your plate while Alexia slowly got up, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

When she returned, still slightly damp and clearly humiliated, the two of you decided it was time to leave. Alexia paid the check without a word, and the two of you walked back to the car in utter silence, the tension between you almost tangible.

Neither of you said anything on the drive home, and the weight of everything that had just happened hung in the air between you, too thick to ignore.

As you arrived at your apartment, the silence from the restaurant lingered between you and Alexia. Standing in front of your door, you turned to her, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well… that was fun,” you said, managing a small, somewhat strained smile. Alexia responded with a sad, half-hearted smile of her own.

“Yes, um… I’m really sorry about all of this” she said, motioning to her champagne-soaked clothes, her voice filled with remorse.

“It’s okay,” you said gently, trying to reassure her.

Alexia hesitated, then asked nervously, “Entonces… ¿crees que podríamos, ya sabes, intentarlo de nuevo?” She fiddled with the ring on her finger, clearly anxious. (So… do you think we could, you know, give it another shot?)

You sighed, gathering your thoughts before responding, “I don’t think so,” you said softly. Her head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise.

“Didn’t you enjoy yourself? Well, before everything went wrong?” she asked, her voice betraying her insecurity.

“I did enjoy myself, especially when everything went wrong. And Alexia, I really like you,” you admitted, your voice earnest.

Her expression softened, and she looked relieved, if still uncertain.

“I really like you too, Y/N. And if you’re worried about me seeing other girls again, I promise I won’t. You’re the only one I want,” she said quickly, her eyes pleading with you.

“It’s not just about that,” you said, shaking your head. “ I have to think about more than just myself. I need to consider Mia too,” you explained. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Mia loves me,” she said, her tone a mix of confusion and hurt.

“I know she does, but imagine if something like this had happened while Mia was with you. What do you think she would say?” you asked, your voice firm but compassionate.

“He estado con Mia muchas veces antes y nada como esto había sucedido.”she said desperately. (I’ve been out with Mia plenty of times before, and nothing like this ever happened)

“Yeah, but that doesn’t guarantee it won’t in the future,” you pointed out. “I’m really sorry, Alexia, but as much as I like you and want to be with you, I think we’re better off as friends,” you said, your heart heavy. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes but nodded slowly.

“Come here,” you said, opening your arms. She stepped into your embrace, her face buried in the crook of your neck as she whispered apologies. You gently rubbed her back, offering comfort as best as you could.

When you finally pulled away, Alexia pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll fix this, I promise. I’m not giving up on us,” she said with determination, her eyes locked on yours.

“I know you won’t,” you said with a soft smile. “Goodbye, Alexia,” you said, opening the door to your apartment.

“Adios, guapa,” she replied, giving you one last smile before turning to walk away.

As Alexia made her way down the hall, she was overwhelmed by a swirl of emotions—feeling foolish, embarrassed, and heartbroken.

She regretted missing her chance to be with you but was resolute in her determination to make things right. She walked away with a promise to herself to fix the situation and not give up easily.

——

You hadn’t seen Alexia in nearly a month after that night. She stopped visiting the store, and the only communication between you was through sporadic text messages.

Mia, who had grown quite fond of Alexia, missed her terribly. She frequently aked about Alexia’s absence and why she wasn’t coming around anymore.

You found yourself making up various excuses, claiming Alexia was tied up with work commitments.

Despite her absence, Alexia still took the time to call Mia occasionally to wish her good night, which you found genuinely touching and appreciated.

The only glimpses you got of Alexia were on TV, during her matches that you and Mia watched together. On screen, she looked striking—blonder than before and just as captivating.

You often asked Alexia when she would be coming back to the store, but her answers were consistently vague.

She would simply say, “soon.” The last time she gave you this response was two weeks ago, leaving you wondering when she would actually return.

“Mia, no running in the store, baby, please,” you called out, watching your daughter race around the aisles for what felt like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes.

You had no choice but to bring her with you today since Maria, your usual babysitter, was sick and couldn’t look after her.

“Sorry, Mommy!” Mia yelled back as she skidded to a halt. You walked over, picked her up, and set her on the counter.

Just as you were about to speak to her, the familiar ring of the door bell sounded, and you looked up to see Alexia entering the store.

Before you could even react, Mia leaped off the counter, causing your heart to skip a beat, and sprinted straight for Alexia, shouting her name at the top of her lungs. She flung herself into Alexia’s arms without hesitation.

“I missed you so much, nena,” Alexia said, wrapping Mia in a tight embrace and kissing her lightly on the shoulder as she walked over to you, Mia still clinging to her.

Alexia didn’t let Mia go immediately. She waited, cradling her close until Mia finally pulled away and smiled up at her.

“Why haven’t you been here? I thought you left me,” Mia said, her lower lip jutting out into a pout. The words made your heart sink, the thought of Mia feeling abandoned tugging painfully at your chest.

Alexia’s expression mirrored the heartbreak you felt. “Oh, no, nena. I would never leave my favorite person in the whole world,” Alexia reassured her, pressing a few more soft kisses onto Mia’s cheek, clearly trying to make up for the lost time.

“Alexia, do you wanna see all the drawings I made?” Mia asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Alexia grinned and nodded, more than ready to follow Mia’s lead. They headed toward the back room, Mia tugging on her hand eagerly.

As they passed by, Alexia glanced at you, her eyes soft. “We’ll talk later, okay?” she said quietly, her voice filled with an unspoken apology. You nodded in response, not needing to say anything at the moment.

On their way to the back room, Alexia greeted Carmen with a quick hug and a few exchanged words. Carmen smiled and gestured them through.

During your break, you decided to check in on them. As you stepped into the back room, your breath caught at the sight in front of you.

Alexia and Mia were lying together on the small bed Carmen had set up for Mia’s naps when she visited the store.

Mia was curled up on top of Alexia, her tiny body tucked against Alexia’s chest, her face nestled in the crook of Alexia’s neck. They were both fast asleep, breathing softly in perfect unison.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene. It was a picture of calm and warmth, a reminder of just how close Mia had grown to Alexia.

You stepped closer quietly and grabbed Mia’s favorite blanket, gently draping it over both of them. As you adjusted the blanket, Alexia stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked sleepily at you before offering a soft, sleepy smile.

You smiled back, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was an unspoken understanding between you.

Alexia had missed you more than she could express, and you could see it in her eyes. She had been distant, but you knew she was trying to make things right.

Carefully, Alexia shifted, sitting up slowly to avoid waking Mia. She gently placed Mia on the bed, tucking the blanket securely around her tiny frame. After making sure Mia was settled, Alexia quietly got up and approached you, her gaze soft but intense.

Without a word, she pulled you into a tight hug, the warmth of her embrace familiar. “¿Cómo estás?”she asked softly, her voice low in your ear. (How are you?)

“I’m good. And you?” you replied, pulling back slightly to look up at her. Alexia smiled, echoing your words. “Good.”

You rested your head against her shoulder for a brief moment, her scent and the comfort of her touch bringing back memories.

Then, in a quiet voice, you whispered, “I missed you. Where have you been?” You pulled away enough to look her in the eye, the question hanging between you.

“Let’s talk outside so we don’t wake her,” Alexia suggested gently, nodding toward the sleeping Mia. You nodded in agreement, and with that, she took your hand, her touch warm and steady.

Leading you out of the back room and through the store, you let Carmen know you’d be stepping outside for a moment.

Once outside, the cool air hit your skin, and you felt a little lighter, but the conversation ahead weighed on your mind.

Alexia gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go, and the two of you found a quiet spot to talk, close from the store.

“So... where were you?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase, unable to hold back the question any longer.

Alexia let out a soft sigh, her eyes flickering with a mix of nerves and determination. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” she began, her voice quiet but steady.

“After what happened on our date and how you didn’t want Mia around if something like that ever happened again.”

You nodded, recalling the conversation clearly. That night had been chaotic, and the thought of Mia witnessing anything similar made your stomach turn.

“Bueno... sé que puede no parecer mucho para ti, pero realmente quería asegurarme de que esa situación no se repita” Alexia continued, her gaze earnest. (Well... I know it might not seem like much to you, but I really wanted to make sure that situation never repeats itself)

“I didn’t want to risk women getting mad at me in public with Mia around... so, I decided to go and apologize to every single woman I’ve hurt.”

You blinked in shock, her words taking a moment to sink in. “Wait, what?”

“Si” she said, with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through her hair. “It took a while—a month, actually. There were... well, a lot of women. But I made sure to apologize to every single one of them for treating them badly, using them, or hurting them in any way”

You stared at her, your surprise evident. Alexia had always been confident, even a little cocky at times, but this... this was something entirely different. “Wow,” was all you managed to say, the weight of her actions hitting you.

Alexia offered a small smile, clearly relieved by your reaction. “I want to be different. A new version of myself,” she said, her tone soft but determined.

“No more womanizer Alexia, no more jumping from girl to girl. I want to be Alexia who’s focused on only my four girls” She paused, letting her words hang in the air.

You furrowed your brow, unsure who she meant. “Four girls?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

She grinned, her eyes softening. “Si. My mom, my sister, Mia and you.”

At that, your heart melted completely. There was a sincerity in her voice that struck a chord deep within you. “I think I like this new Alexia,” you said, your voice gentle but full of warmth.

Alexia smiled wider, clearly touched by your response. “I like her too,” she said, and you could feel the shift between you, something unspoken yet understood.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight embrace. Alexia responded immediately, her arms circling your waist, holding you close.

The hug felt different this time—not just physical closeness, but emotional connection, a promise of something deeper.

After a long moment, she whispered into your ear, “I was worried you’d be mad at me for disappearing.”

You shook your head gently, still nestled against her. “No, I could never be mad at you for taking the time to figure things out. I’m proud of you for doing that,” you said softly, pressing a light kiss near her ear as a small gesture of reassurance.

Alexia pulled back slightly, her hands resting on your hips, but she didn’t let go. “I’ve got to head to training now,” she said reluctantly, her eyes searching yours. “But... would you and Mia come to my match tomorrow?”

“Really?” you asked, excitement bubbling up. You knew how much Mia adored watching Alexia play, and you could already imagine her reaction.

“Yeah,” Alexia said, her grin widening. “Don’t worry about tickets—I’ve got plenty set aside for friends and family. Please come. It’ll be fun.”

“Of course! Mia’s going to be thrilled,” you replied, already imagining Mia’s excitement when you told her. Then, after a brief pause, you added, “Also, after training, would you like to come over for dinner?”

Alexia’s eyes lit up at the invitation. “I’d love to,” she said, her voice warm as her hands squeezed your hips gently, as if to seal the moment. “I’ve missed you both so much. I’d love to spend time with you two again.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “We’ve missed you too,” you admitted softly, your voice carrying the weight of the time that had passed.

Alexia smiled back, and for the first time in a while, everything felt right again.

——

“When is Alexia coming?” Mia asked for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, her little voice full of impatience and excitement.

“Soon, baby,” you said, smiling as you gently squeezed her chubby cheeks, making her burst into a fit of giggles.

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door. Mia's eyes lit up as she gasped, “Alexia!” Her excitement was infectious, and you nodded, her joy mirrored in your own smile.

You walked over to the door and opened it to reveal Alexia standing there, her familiar warm smile lighting up the space.

She had Nala cradled in one arm, and in the other, she carried a Barca bag. “Nala!” Mia squealed, holding out her hands towards the dog.

Alexia knelt down and gently set Nala on the floor, and with a wagging tail, the little dog scampered inside, Mia trailing closely behind, laughing as she chased her around the room.

“I think Mia loves Nala more than she loves you,” you teased, laughing as you looked over at Alexia.

Alexia chuckled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think you’re right,” she agreed, shaking her head playfully.

Stepping inside, Alexia pulled you into a warm hug. Her familiar scent and comforting presence made everything feel just a little brighter.

After the hug, she joined you in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, ready to help with the last bit of dinner prep.

Together, the three of you worked in perfect harmony, Mia perched on a chair stirring something while Alexia handed you ingredients.

The kitchen was filled with soft laughter and the clinking of dishes. By the time dinner was ready, the atmosphere was as warm as the meal itself.

You all sat down at the table, Mia in the middle of you and Alexia, happily chatting as she recounted her day in between bites of food.

The sound of her tiny voice mixed with the hum of evening conversations made the moment feel blissfully perfect.

After dinner, you moved to the living room, where the three of you sprawled out on the floor, playing with Mia’s collection of dolls. Mia giggled as you and Alexia helped the dolls “talk,” her laughter bubbling up every time one of you made a silly voice.

“Hey, Mia, guess what?” you asked her, lowering your voice like you were about to share a big secret. Her wide eyes locked onto yours immediately. “What?” she asked, voice full of curiosity.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Alexia, and a smile crept across both your faces. “Tomorrow, we’re going to see Alexia play at the stadium,” you revealed, your voice filled with excitement.

Mia gasped loudly, her eyes widening even more as she whipped her head toward Alexia. “Really!?”she asked, practically bouncing in place. Alexia nodded with a soft smile.

Without hesitation, Mia flung herself into Alexia’s arms, wrapping her tightly in the biggest hug her little body could muster.

Alexia laughed, her arms wrapping around Mia in return. “I have something for you too,” Alexia said, her voice gentle and playful. “For both of you,” she added, glancing at you with a smile.

She stood up and grabbed the Barca bag she had brought with her, then sat back down next to you, her eyes twinkling. With a flourish, she pulled out a tiny jersey, perfectly sized for Mia, with her name on the back.

Mia’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “A new jersey!” she exclaimed, clutching it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Thank you, Ale!” she squealed, and in an instant, she was up and planting a big kiss on Alexia’s cheek. “Look, Mommy! A new jersey!” she said, proudly showing it off.

“I see it, baby,” you said, matching her joy with an exaggerated gasp and a wide smile. “It’s perfect!”

Alexia wasn’t done yet. She reached into the bag again and pulled out another jersey, this one larger, clearly meant for you. You raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“And this one’s for you,” Alexia said with a wink. “Since I know I’m your favorite player, of course I had to choose my jersey,” she teased, a playful grin on her face.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you, Alexia,” you said softly, your heart full as you leaned in and kissed her cheek. “It’s perfect.”

Mia, already wearing her jersey over her pajamas, threw her arms around your neck, beaming up at you both. “Now we can all match” she exclaimed, her little face glowing with excitement.

You smiled, kissing her on the cheek. “Yes, we can! We’ll all wear them tomorrow for the game,” you promised, imagining how happy Mia would be to wear her new jersey to the stadium.

Alexia watched the two of you, her gaze soft and filled with warmth as she took in the sight of Mia nestled in your arms, the three of you wrapped in this quiet, loving moment. It was the kind of simple joy that made everything else fade away.

At bedtime, Mia sweetly asked Alexia to read her a bedtime story, and Alexia, with a bright smile, happily agreed without hesitation.

Mia, already tucked under her warm blankets, gently handed Alexia the book she had chosen for the night, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Alexia gratefully accepted the book and thanked her, but before she could begin, Mia looked over at you standing in the doorway. “Mommy, come too,” she said softly, her small voice filled with warmth.

You stepped into the room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a peaceful light across the room. Sitting down beside them on Mia's bed, you felt her tiny hand reach out for yours.

You held it, the warmth of her fingers a comforting reminder of the moment, as Alexia opened the book and began to read, her voice steady and soothing, bringing the story to life.

Only five minutes into the story, Mia’s eyelids fluttered shut, and she drifted off to sleep, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath.

You quietly stood up, careful not to make a sound that might wake her, and leaned in to plant a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. The warmth of her skin and the calm expression on her face filled you with love and peace.

Alexia, with a soft smile on her face, followed your lead and leaned down to give Mia a gentle kiss as well. Together, you both quietly tiptoed out of the room, leaving Mia peacefully asleep, her dreams already beginning.

Since it was still early, you and Alexia decided to spend more time together by watching a movie. The mood was light and comfortable, with a relaxed air between the two of you.

While you busied yourself making popcorn, you could hear Alexia humming softly as she browsed through the movie options, searching for something just right.

When the popcorn was ready, you walked over and sat down close beside her, the warmth between you instant. She smiled at you, her eyes soft and full of affection. “Ready?” she asked, holding the remote.

“Ready,” you nodded, returning her smile. Nala was lying peacefully on the floor, her breathing slow as she slept through the evening’s calm.

As the movie played, you slowly started to feel tired. Alexia noticed the way your head began to dip slightly, and without saying a word, she shifted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Come here,” she whispered, gently pulling you into her side.

You leaned into her, letting the weight of the day melt away in her embrace. Her hand found its way to your hair, gently running through it in soft, soothing strokes. “You okay?” she asked quietly, her voice tender.

“Mmm, yeah, just tired,” you murmured, already feeling sleep pulling at you.

“Go ahead, rest. I’ve got you,” she whispered, her hand continuing to caress your hair, lulling you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

You didn’t even notice when you fully drifted off, lost in the comfort of her arms and the warmth of her presence. Time seemed to disappear until you were gently woken by Alexia shifting next to you.

“Hey,” she whispered softly, her hand still in your hair as you blinked yourself awake. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, but it’s getting late and I should go.”

You rubbed your eyes and nodded, sitting up a little. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you said with a small, sleepy smile.

Alexia smiled warmly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You looked too peaceful to wake up sooner,” she said with a gentle laugh. She stood up, stretching slightly before you both walked toward the door, Nala following lazily behind.

Once at the door, you opened it for her, the cool night air drifting in. Alexia stepped outside and then turned back toward you, her smile soft and full of warmth. “Thank you for dinner tonight. It was perfect,” she said sincerely.

You stepped closer to her, feeling a soft blush rise in your cheeks. “Thank you for the jersey,” you said with a shy smile. “I can’t wait to wear it tomorrow.”

Alexia’s eyes lit up. “I can’t wait to see you wearing it tomorrow,” she replied, her voice playful but sweet.

She moved closer, her hands gently resting on your hips, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her shoulders, pulling her even closer.

“Please don’t tease me like you did in the kitchen the other day,” Alexia said, her voice low but teasing, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

You laughed softly. “I’m not teasing,” you whispered, before leaning in and kissing her.

The kiss was soft and sweet, but there was a deeper connection between you. It felt natural, almost as if you had been waiting for this moment.

Her arms tightened around your waist, and you melted into her, letting the warmth of the moment surround you. Your lips moved together in sync, the kiss growing more passionate as your tongues met, exploring each other.

Alexia sighed contentedly into the kiss, pulling you even closer as if she never wanted to let go. You could feel her heartbeat against you, and it was as if time had stopped, the world outside disappearing.

But then, Nala’s sudden bark broke the silence, causing you both to laugh into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away from each other. Alexia chuckled softly, resting her forehead against yours. “Finally,” she breathed, her voice a mix of relief and happiness.

You grinned and playfully kissed the tip of her nose. “You really made me work for that,” she teased, her hands gently rubbing your sides. “But it was worth every second.”

You smiled softly, your heart full as she leaned in and kissed you again, this time just a light, sweet peck on your lips.

“Okay, I really need to go now,” Alexia said with a soft sigh, her reluctance clear in her voice. She didn’t want the night to end.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, your voice soft, not wanting to let her go just yet.

“Of course,” she said, smiling warmly at you. “See you tomorrow, guapa,” she added, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before stepping back, her eyes lingering on yours.

“Goodnight, Alexia,” you whispered, your heart full as she gave you one last smile before turning and walking away, Nala trotting beside her.

You watched her disappear down the path, closing the door with a happy sigh, feeling like you were floating. The night had been absolutely perfect. Everything—every moment, every word—was just right. You couldn’t wait to see her again tomorrow, already counting the minutes.

——

“Mommy, look, Alexia is coming out of the tunnel!” Mia exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement.

All day, Mia had been bouncing with energy, even waking you up at 6 a.m. by jumping on your bed and insisting you get up for the Barca match, even though the match was in the afternoon.

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and you were just as thrilled to see Alexia play live, rather than through a screen.

After your kiss yesterday, you and Alexia had been texting non-stop, sharing flirty messages and exchanging photos. You had sent her a cute picture of you and Mia wearing her jersey to show your support. When Alexia saw the photo, she couldn’t help but smile widely and set it as her lockscreen background.

“Yes, I see her,” you said, nodding as you watched Alexia warming up on the field. She looked stunning—her hair tied back in a ponytail, her powerful legs ready for action, and her intense focus. It was hard not to think she looked incredibly attractive.

Every so often, Alexia would glance towards the stands, searching for you and Mia. When she finally spotted you both, Mia jumped up in her seat, waving her arms excitedly. Alexia’s face lit up with a huge smile as she waved back.

Then Alexia caught sight of you and playfully blew you a kiss. You returned the gesture, and she caught your kiss, pressing it to her heart with a cheeky grin.

The match started, and Barca took control of the game right from the beginning. At one point, Alexia scored a breathtaking goal, and the entire crowd erupted in cheers. Mia was beside herself with excitement, jumping up and down and chanting Alexia’s name.

When the game ended and it was time to leave, you carried Mia through the bustling crowd to make sure she didn’t get lost.

As you made your way down the stairs, you received a message from Alexia telling you to joined her at a certain spot so she’like pick you and Mia up.

You walked to the designated spot, and Mia continued to chatter excitedly about her favorite moments from the game, her eyes sparkling.

Soon, you saw Alexia’s car pulling up. You opened the door, and Mia immediately reached out to Alexia, wrapping her arms around her in a warm embrace.

Alexia hugged Mia tightly and asked, “Did you have a great time at the match?”

Mia’s face lit up as she replied, “Yes! I loved it! It was amaziiiing!” She stretched out the word, her excitement palpable.

“Come on, Mia, climb into the backseat,” you said gently. Mia eagerly obeyed, sliding into the car.

Alexia looked a bit concerned as she apologized, “I’m really sorry I don’t have a car seat. I’ll be very careful, though.”

“It’s okay, Ale,” you reassured her, fastening Mia’s seatbelt with a smile.

Once you were settled in the front seat, Alexia started the car and asked, “And how about you? Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yeah! I loved it! It was amaziiiing!” you said, imitating Mia’s enthusiasm, which made Alexia laugh.

Mia, still full of energy, playfully called out, “Hey! Meanie mommy,” which made you laugh and apologize in a cooing voice.

The car ride was filled with warmth and laughter, a perfect end to an unforgettable day.

——

Arriving at Alexia’s apartment, you and Mia were enveloped in the cozy ambiance of her home. The first thing Mia did was dash over to Nala, who was lounging on her favorite spot.

Mia greeted her with an enthusiastic hug and a flurry of kisses, her excitement palpable. Nala responded with playful wagging of her tail and happy barks, clearly delighted by the attention.

Alexia joined in, her laughter filling the room as she played with Mia and Nala. The three of them engaged in a lively game of fetch, with Mia giggling every time Nala brought the toy back. The joy in the room was infectious, and you found yourself smiling, watching the delightful scene unfold.

Meanwhile, you decided to take a moment for yourself and wandered into the kitchen. You poured a glass of water and savored a few quiet minutes.

The soothing hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clink of the glass were calming. Just as you were about to finish your drink, you felt a familiar and comforting sensation: arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

You smiled, leaning back into the embrace. Alexia’s warmth surrounded you, and you felt an immediate sense of peace. She planted a tender kiss on your forehead, her lips lingering slightly as she embraced you.

Turning in her arms, you looked up into her eyes and reached for her lips. You shared a soft, lingering kiss, the world outside seeming to fade away as you lost yourselves in the intimacy of the moment.

“Did you catch that amazing goal I scored today?” Alexia asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“I did,” you replied, your smile widening. “It was incredible!”

Alexia’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Good,” she said with a mischievous grin. “I scored it just for you.”

You teased her playfully, “Do you use that line on every women you want in your bed?”

Alexia’s smile softened, and she shook her head gently. “Only one,” she said, her voice tender. She then rubbed her nose against yours before pressing her lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Alexia hummed softly and whispered against your lips, “You look so stunning in my jersey. But I bet you’d look even more amazing without it.” Her voice was filled with warmth and affection, making your heart race with excitement.

You laughed, enjoying the playful exchange. “Maybe one day you’ll get to see,” you said, your tone light and teasing.

Alexia’s arms tightened around you, and she beamed with satisfaction. “Can you believe you went from ‘in your dreams’ to ‘maybe’?” she said triumphantly, her eyes dancing with joy.

You laughed and leaned in for another kiss, this one more passionate, as the joy of the moment enveloped you both. The kiss was filled with the depth of your feelings, and you both savored the connection.

Just then, a small voice broke through with an emphatic “Ewwww!” You pulled away abruptly, eyes wide with surprise, and turned to see Mia standing there with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Mommy, why are you kissing Alexia?” Mia asked, her brows furrowed. You glanced at Alexia for guidance, but she looked just as taken aback.

“You can’t kiss her! She has a girlfriend,” Mia declared, her little face serious. You were amazed at how much she remembered and understood.

“Um… I…” you began, struggling to find the right words.

Sensing the need for clarity, Alexia walked over to Mia and gently knelt in front of her, her eyes filled with sincerity. She gestured for you to join them, which you did, feeling a mix of anxiety and affection.

“Mia, sweetheart,” Alexia began softly, her voice tender and earnest, “I kissed your mommy because I really, really like her. I care about her a lot, and that’s why I kissed her.”

Mia looked at Alexia, her confusion slowly giving way to understanding. “But what about the girl at the store? You were holding hands with her?” Mia asked, her little face full of questions.

You interrupted . “um…that girl was just a friend of Alexia, honey. Sometimes friends hold hands too, just like you might hold hands with your friends.”

Mia seemed to accept this explanation, her face lighting up with a new understanding. “Oh,” she said, her tone softer. “But are you in love with my mommy? Is that why you kissed her?”

Before you could respond, Alexia took a deep breath and looked at Mia with heartfelt sincerity. “Yes, Mia, I am in love with your mommy. Very, very much,” she said, her voice filled with emotion.

“I hope that’s okay with you because it means I’ll be spending a lot of time with you too, if your mommy wants that.”

You looked at Alexia with surprise and admiration, deeply touched by her openness and the depth of her feelings.

Mia’s face lit up with joy, and she threw her arms around both you and Alexia in a warm, enthusiastic hug. “Yes, you can be in love with my mommy! I want to spend all my time with you and Nala! You’re my bestest friends!” she exclaimed, her happiness evident. She then ran back to Nala, eager to continue their playtime.

As you and Alexia stood up, you looked at her with a mixture of wonder and love. “So, you’re really in love with me?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

“I am, more than I ever thought possible,” Alexia said, her eyes shimmering with sincerity. “I finally figured out what was that feeling in my stomach… You make me so incredibly happy. When I’m with you, nothing else seems to matter.”

Feeling overwhelmed by your emotions, you kissed her deeply, the connection between you both palpable. The kiss was a reflection of your deep feelings, filled with passion and tenderness.

“I’m in love with you too,” you whispered against her lips, your voice filled with heartfelt truth. Alexia’s eyes brightened with joy as she picked you up and spun you around in a joyful embrace.

“Is it official? Are we together?” she asked, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation.

“Yes, we are,” you replied with a beaming smile. You covered her face with affectionate kisses, and she laughed, her joy radiating from her.

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” Alexia said, her voice glowing with happiness as she held you close. The world around you felt perfectly right, enveloped in the warmth and love you shared.

——

“Hola, guapa!” Alexia greeted with a bright smile as she entered the shop, leaning in for a quick but tender kiss.

“Hola, Carmen!” she added, turning to Carmen with a warm hug. Carmen reciprocated the hug with equal affection, clearly delighted by the visit.

You and Alexia have been together for six months, and these months have been the most fulfilling of your life. Alexia has been the perfect partner, balancing her caring nature with her playful teasing and occasional cheeky jokes. Despite her antics, you wouldn’t change a thing about her.

“I’m heading to training, but I just had to drop by to see your gorgeous face and hear your lovely voice,” Alexia said, her tone flirtatious and full of affection.

“You’re really inflating my ego today,” you laughed, enjoying the compliment.

Alexia’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Do you want to go on a date tonight? Alba can come by your apartment to look after Mia. I’ve already asked her, and she’s more than happy to,” she proposed.

In the past six months, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Alba and Eli, Alexia’s mom, both of whom have been incredibly warm and welcoming towards you.

They were also quite surprised, because you were apparently first woman Alexia had ever brought home to meet them.

“I’d love that,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned over the counter, and Alexia promptly met you with a sweet kiss.

“See you tonight, mi amor,” Alexia said as she pulled away, giving you a flirtatious wink before heading out the door.

Carmen looked at you with a knowing smile. “Looks like someone’s in for a special night,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Please, don’t ” you replied, trying to maintain your composure as you got back to work.

That evening, Alexia picked you up and took you to a charming restaurant that you had been wanting to try.

As you arrived, she held the door open for you with a courteous smile, and you both were shown to a cozy table by a window with a view of the city lights.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” Alexia said as you sat down, her eyes shining with excitement. She reached across the table, taking your hand in hers.

“So have I,” you replied, squeezing her hand gently. “It’s been such a perfect day already.”

Alexia’s smile widened as she perused the menu. “What are you in the mood for tonight? I’m thinking we should share some tapas and then maybe have that dessert we’ve been eyeing.”

“That sounds wonderful,” you agreed. “I’m craving the croquetas and the patatas bravas.”

As you waited for your food, you both talked about everything from the latest football news to funny anecdotes from your week.

Alexia updated you on her training sessions and some of the amusing moments from practice, her laughter filling the air and making you smile.

“So, I scored this amazing goal today,” Alexia said with a proud grin. “You should’ve seen the way the ball curved into the top corner. I’m still buzzing from it.”

“You were incredible,” you said, your eyes sparkling with admiration. “I was watching on the live stream, and I had to rewind it a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t imagining it!”

As the evening continued, the food arrived, and you both enjoyed sharing plates of delicious tapas. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing.

When dessert came, you both indulged in a decadent chocolate mousse, feeding each other bites and exchanging playful banter.

By the time the check arrived, you both felt completely content. Alexia walked you to the car, her hand intertwined with yours. As she drove, she glanced over at you with a soft smile.

“I’ve had such a great time tonight,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “Being with you always feels like a perfect escape from everything else.”

“Me too,” you replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Every moment with you is just… right.”

Alexia parked the car back at your place, and as you both walked to your door, you turned to her with a tender expression.

“You’re staying the night, right?” you asked, your voice filled with a mix of eagerness and affection.

“Of course,” Alexia responded with a playful grin, leaning in to give you a soft, lingering kiss. She then gave you a light pat on the butt, making you both laugh softly.

Once inside your apartment, you moved quietly to avoid disturbing Mia, who was soundly asleep in her room. You thanked Alba for taking care of her, chatting briefly about the night’s events and exchanging warm goodbyes before she left.

After changing into more relaxed attire, you and Alexia headed to the bedroom. The room was softly lit, casting a warm glow over everything.

You and Alexia were making out in your bed and as Alexia’s kisses grew more insistent and heated, the atmosphere between you became electric. You felt a surge of confidence and gently pulled away, your heart racing.

You removed your shirt slowly, letting it fall to the floor, and then slipped off your shorts, leaving yourself completely naked. Straddling Alexia, you could feel her eyes on you, her admiration evident in the way she looked at you.

“Dame un pellizco.”Alexia said suddenly, her voice tinged with disbelief. Her eyes were fixed on your chest, not meeting yours. “I need to make sure this isn’t a dream.” (Pinch me)

You raised an eyebrow, both amused and touched. “What?”

“You always said this would only happen in my dreams,” she explained, her gaze still locked on your chest. “I need to be sure it’s real.”

You chuckled softly, guiding her hands to your breasts. “Does this feel real enough?” you asked, and she responded by gently squeezing, causing you to let out a soft moan.

“So real,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe. With a loving smile, she wrapped an arm around your waist and shifted your position so that you were lying on your back, with her on top of you. Her kisses traveled from your neck to your collarbone, each touch tender and full of longing.

“I can’t wait to finally have you,” she whispered against your skin, her lips moving to your chest. Her kisses were warm and tender, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

You moaned softly, lost in the sensation of her touch.

After finishing, you both lay there, panting and completely naked. You rested on top of Alexia, savoring the moment as her fingers traced soft, calming patterns on your back.

“How was it?” she asked softly, her voice a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.

You lifted your head from her chest, meeting her gaze. With a tender smile, you kissed her lips gently. “Incredible,” you whispered, placing another light kiss on her lips.

“I did it,” Alexia said with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling with triumph. “I told you I’d never give up. I promised you that one day you’d be naked in my bed,” she said, smirking proudly.

You arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on your face. “Well, technically, you haven’t fully achieved that yet, since this is my bed,” you teased.

Alexia chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s only a matter of time before we’re doing this in my bed,” she said, her grin widening. “And on my kitchen table, the counter, in my bathroom… I’ll make sure we make love in every room and piece of furniture in my apartment” she added with a sultry smirk.

“Hmmm, that sounds like quite the adventure,” you replied with a playful tone. “But for now, let’s head to the shower and get dressed. I have a feeling tomorrow morning will involve a tiny person bouncing on us,” you said, getting up and stretching.

Alexia groaned but grinned as she started to get up. “You’re probably right,” she said, her voice a mix of amusement and resignation.

As you both moved toward the shower, the warmth and intimacy of the evening lingered, promising more moments of closeness and affection to come.

——

The next morning, you awoke to the gentle sensation of a hand softly caressing your cheek.

“Hola,” Alexia whispered tenderly, and you instinctively moved closer, savoring her warmth. “Hola,” you murmured back, leaning in for a quick, loving peck on her lips.

“Mmm, I could really get used to waking up next to you every day,” she said softly, closing her eyes as a contented sigh escaped her lips. You traced your fingers through her hair, feeling a deep sense of peace.

“Me too,” you agreed, your heart swelling with happiness. Alexia then wrapped her arms around you, pulling you on top of her. Her gaze was filled with tenderness as she said, “Te amo.”

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. It was the first time Alexia had ever said those words to you.

After a few seconds of letting the moment sink in, you responded with equal fervor, “I love you too, so much.” You kissed her deeply, the passion of the moment outweighing any thoughts of morning breath.

As you pulled away, Alexia’s eyes sparkled with affection. “Ay! By the way, I was thinking, you never finished that story you started at the store and then at the date. I’m dying to know how it ended!” she said with a playful pout. You chuckled at her eagerness.

“Oh, right! So what happened next is that Mia and I…” you began, but before you could finish, the bedroom door swung open with a burst of excitement. Alexia groaned in mock frustration, clearly disappointed at the interruption.

“Mommy! Ale!” Mia exclaimed, her tiny feet pattering as she clambered onto the bed with your help.

“Good morning, my little sunshine,” you greeted, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Morning, nena,” Alexia said warmly, planting a kiss on Mia’s cheek as well. Mia giggled, clearly delighted by the affection.

“I’m hungry!” Mia declared, patting her stomach with a dramatic flourish.

“Ooh, the little monster is hungry!” Alexia said with a grin, sitting up and playfully nudging Mia. You slid off her, and Alexia began to tickle Mia, who erupted in infectious laughter.

As you watched the two of them, a deep sense of contentment enveloped you. Here you were, in Barcelona, living a life filled with love and joy.

You felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and fulfillment, knowing that you had finally found the happy ending you’d always dreamed of… even if it was with a former womanizer.

FIN.

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

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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days

Text

Frat president || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Unlike Rafe, you managed to balance your responsibilities as Sorority President with your personal life and relationships, something he just couldn’t seem to get right.

Warnings: angst!!!

Word count: 1,973

A/n: first time writing frat boy!rafe lmk if you wanna see more

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

The room was dimly lit, the golden glow from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the bed. You and Rafe lay tangled together under the sheets, the air thick with the heat of the moment. His hand slid across your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth wherever he touched. His lips found yours again, hungry and urgent, as though he had been waiting for this all day—between the calls, the meetings, the endless chaos that came with being the frat president.

"Missed you," he muttered against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy, his body pressing into yours. You smiled into the kiss, knowing he meant it. Rafe was always busy, always handling something, but when he was with you, it was like the world faded away. His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment.

You arched your body against his, feeling that familiar warmth between you, the kind of intimacy that only you two shared. But just as things were getting more intense, the worst sound shattered the mood—the loud buzzing of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. Rafe paused, pulling away just enough to glance at the screen. His eyes flickered with annoyance but also duty, and you knew what was coming.

"Don't," you whispered, your voice soft but pleading, fingers on his jaw to keep him focused on you. "Just a second," Rafe muttered, "it’s the guys." You groaned and sat up, wrapping the sheet around your body. "Of course it is." Rafe pressed the phone to his ear, ignoring your frustration as he answered, his tone switching from soft and intimate to authoritative. "Yeah, what's up?" His voice was commanding, the kind of tone that always came out when he dealt with frat business.

You leaned back against the pillows, pulling the sheets over your chest, watching as he got up from the bed, pacing the room like he was in some kind of frat office rather than your bedroom. You watched Rafe’s broad back as he paced across the floor, the low murmur of his voice carrying on a conversation that had nothing to do with you. Every word, every command he gave over the phone to one of his frat brothers only added to the frustration bubbling inside you.

His hand ran through his messy hair as he listened to whoever was on the other end, barking orders and sounding like a leader—like the Rafe everyone else knew. But that wasn’t the Rafe you wanted right now. "Seriously?" Rafe’s voice cut through the air, frustration dripping from his words as he dealt with yet another frat-related crisis. "No, tell him if he doesn't fix it, I'm pulling him from the party this weekend."

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tugged the blanket tighter around you. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. You knew he had responsibilities, but this was supposed to be your time. His phone calls could’ve waited, just this once. But no, everything else always seemed to come first—the frat boys, the parties, the constant drama. It was like you were sharing him with the entire fraternity.

"I said, handle it. No—no, Jacob. I was clear about what you needed to do. Get it fixed, or both of you are looking at probation." Rafe’s voice was cold, sharp as a blade. He paused for a second, then scoffed bitterly. "I don’t care if he was drunk. I don’t give a damn about excuses—just get it done." Rafe snapped into the phone, his voice hard and distant, like he wasn’t the same guy who had just whispered how much he missed you.

You had felt so close to him just minutes ago, tangled in the sheets, his hands on your skin, making you forget everything. You thought tonight would be different, that for once, you could have him all to yourself. The warmth of his touch and the closeness you’d shared felt like a cruel joke now, as you sat alone on the bed, waiting while he dealt with something that wasn’t you.

You stated at the ceiling as his voice grated on your nerves. The anger was bubbling up faster now, impossible to ignore. The thought of being second to his frat boys made your heart ache, but it was more than that. It was the growing realisation that maybe, you’d always be second. Always waiting for him to put you first.

After a few more minutes of listening to Rafe handle the situation, you had enough. "Rafe," you said, your voice sharp as you interrupted him mid-sentence. He glanced over at you, his expression apologetic but still distracted. "Hang on, babe." That set you off. "No, you hang on. You’ve been on that phone for ten minutes. This was supposed to be our time. Remember?" Rafe sighed, covering the phone's speaker with his hand as he turned toward you. "I know, I’m sorry. This is important."

"And I’m not?" you shot back, feeling the sting of his divided attention. Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard by your words. "That’s not what I’m saying." "Sure feels like it," you muttered, turning away from him as you pulled the blanket over your shoulders. You felt the weight of your words settle between you both, a heavy tension replacing the heat from earlier.

Rafe exhaled loudly, covering the phone with his hand. "Babe, I’m handling it. Just give me a second." "That’s the problem, Rafe," you snapped, the anger flaring as you sat up, the blanket falling away from you. "It’s always 'just a second' with you. Always something more important than me. I thought this time would be different."

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated now. "It’s not like I want to deal with this shit right now, alright? But I’m the president. If I don’t fix these fucking problems, who will?" You shook your head, hurt and anger swirling in your chest. “I get it, Rafe. I know how much responsibility comes with being a president. Believe me, I have my own duties as sorority president. But I’ve learned to separate those responsibilities from my personal life, from us. Something you clearly can’t seem to get a grip on.”

Rafe’s face flushed with frustration. “You think I don’t care about us? You think I’m choosing the frat over you?” Rafe turned fully toward you now, his phone still in his hand but on mute, his voice was a strained mix of anger and desperation. "Of course I care about you. But this is my responsibility. You knew what you were getting into when we got together." "Did I?" you shot back, your voice shaking. "Because I don’t remember signing up to be treated like an afterthought every time someone screws up at a party!"

He rolled his eyes, frustration mounting. "Okay, now you're just overreacting." "Overreacting?" you repeated, the word hanging between you like an accusation. "No, Rafe. I’m tired. Tired of always competing with your frat, tired of feeling like I’m just here when it’s convenient for you. What kind of shitty relationship is this?" He looked at you, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. Guilt, maybe.

But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with the same stone-cold exterior he always put up when things got too real. "What the fuck do you want me to do then?" he asked, his voice strained. "I can’t just drop everything for you every time you feel insecure about this." His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you felt the sting behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see you cry.

"Insecure?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. "That’s what you think this is? That I’m just… insecure?" "That’s not what I meant," Rafe said quickly, but the damage was done. You stared at him, your heart aching in a way that felt all too familiar now. It was always the same with him. Every time you tried to open up, to let him know how much this was hurting you, he brushed it off, made it seem like you were the problem.

You stood from the bed, grabbing your clothes from the floor and quickly pulling them on. Rafe’s eyes widened in confusion as you started dressing. "What are you doing?" he asked, stepping closer. "I’m leaving," you replied coldly, buttoning up your shirt. "I'm not doing this tonight." Rafe stood by the bed, his expression torn between irritation and confusion as he watched you. “Are you seriously leaving because of one phone call?” he asked, his voice low and almost pleading.

“Of course not, Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling with everything you’d held back for so long. “I’m leaving because I can’t keep feeling like I don’t matter to you. Not anymore.” Rafe's jaw tightened as he crossed the room, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You know how this is, you’re a sorority president. You of all people should know how much responsibility comes with it. You can’t just walk away every time something comes up."

You paused at the door, turning to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. “Yeah, I do know. I know exactly what it’s like to balance responsibilities, Rafe. But I also know how to separate my personal life from it, something you can't ever seem to learn." Rafe stared at you, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to find the right words. “That’s not fair,” he muttered. “You’re acting like I’m choosing this over you.”

“Aren’t you?” you shot back, your voice cold. “Every time we’re together, it’s like you’re half here, half thinking about what the guys are doing, what crisis you have to fix next. I get it, you have responsibilities, but that shouldn’t mean I have to come second all the time." His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. He looked at you, the guilt flickering in his eyes, but still, no words that would make a difference.

The air between you both felt thick, heavy with all the things left unsaid for far too long. "Do you even realise how many times I’ve put everything on hold for you?" Your voice cracked, the hurt finally breaking through. “How many times I’ve chosen us over my responsibilities, over everything else? I’ve never made you feel like you were second, Rafe. Not once.”

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was pleading with you to understand. “You know I am.” “Trying isn’t enough anymore.” Your heart ached as you said it, but you knew it was true. “I shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to feel like I matter to you.” Rafe’s face hardened, the guilt shifting into frustration. “So what, you just give up? Because I can’t drop everything for you in a second?”

Your laugh was bitter as you shook your head. “No, Rafe. I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to care enough to make me feel like I’m part of your life, not just something you fit in when it’s convenient. But I guess that’s too much for you.” You turned toward the door again, your hand on the knob. This was it—the breaking point.

The moment where everything you’d been holding onto finally slipped through your fingers. “Wait.” His voice was softer now, almost desperate. You paused, just for a moment, waiting to see if he’d finally say what you needed to hear. But all you heard was the faint buzz of his phone vibrating again on in his hand. And just like that, the hope faded. Without another word, you walked out the door, not looking back.

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veritasangel · 2 days

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Can you do something with Simon and Price and reader? fluff or smut please:)

warnings: fem pov, contains nsfw content {mdni}, oral (giving/receiving), cum swallowing, handjob, threesome, price x simon

a/n: i haven't written smut in a while so it feels sloppy, sorry ↣ wc: 1.8k

Thinking about being one of the newer members to the 141 and you’ve quickly attached yourself to price and simon.

Late nights, when the rest of the team had turned in, you were often sat between them both. Price lights a cigar; the all-familiar tobacco smell mingles in the night air, the dancing flame casting shadows over his face.

Ghost, on the other hand, pulls you into his side with soft ease, as if it were the most natural thing. His arm falls over your shoulders, his body relaxed in ways you'd never see during the day-not when he's the silent, sharp-edged soldier everyone else knows. But here, in the quiet night on the base, he lets his guard down just enough.

Price's eyes flickered to where Ghost had you nestled against him, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. Though it wasn't just amusement lighting up his gaze-there was something possessive in it, something knowing, like he and Ghost were sharing some silent agreement over your head.

Price turned to you, "Comfortable?" he asked, his tone layered with something more than curiosity.

You nodded, the warmth spreading through your chest, though whether from the closeness of their bodies or the way the gaze of Price lingered on you-you weren't quite so sure. You shifted slightly, only to feel Ghost's grip tighten, his fingers curling around your shoulder.

"Stay still, love," Ghost said, his voice in that low rumble, the quiet way he always spoke, but unmistakable beneath the tone tonight. His hand slid down your arm, deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of fire behind it. "We've got you."

Price chuckled low and deep as he watched your eyes flutter innocently at Ghost's words. "Poor thing," he said, the humour in his tone bleeding away to something a little softer, "Reckon you're not used to all this attention, are you?"

Before you could even respond, Price's hand landed on your knee, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over the smooth skin. It felt like they were closing in on either side, enveloping you entirely, and you leaned into it.

"You don't have to do much, y'know," Price said again, and though his tone was teasing, it remained soothing. "Just let us take care of you."

Your words caught in your breath, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you tried to make sense of the change in air between the three of them, there was a possessiveness to the way they seemed so attuned to you.

Ghost's fingers brushed against your chin, his fingers tilting your head slightly towards him. "You're sweet, precious," he whispered, his eyes dark with the search for a reaction in yours. The edge in his tone was full of meaning. "Maybe a little too innocent for your own good, yeah?”

“I’m not-”

Price chuckled again, this time leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath against your neck. "It’s alright, nothing to be ashamed of," he said softly, voice almost a purr now. "Simon and I… we'll look after you."

His tone sent shivers down your spine, not out of fear but from the silent promise beneath his words. How their hands seemed to caress your skin in unison, touching you in a way that belied their sharp and deadly exteriors, your pulse racing at just the thought. You felt as though you were theirs-a shared treasure between them, and they had no intention of letting you go.

Ghost's thumb brushed your bottom lip and his eyes darkened just a fraction as he spoke again. "We'll take real good care of you, love. Won't let anything hurt you. Not while you've got us."

Price's hand had moved from your knee, drifting upwards to your thigh with slow, deliberate care. "You've no need to worry anymore," he murmured, the voice rich with the familiar comforting authority. "Between me and Simon, you'll always be safe.”

His touch was a blanket of warmth that wrapped you whole, and you couldn't help but sink deeper between them. By the way they looked at you, it was clear they'd taken it upon themselves to protect and cherish you-so long as you were willing to let them.

And of course, it wasn't long before these nights together turned into a whole lot more.

Price's grip on you tightens as Simon licks along your slit, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave marks. He can feel your body tensing, your breath hitching as Simon's tongue flicks against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

"That's it, love," Price murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let him take care of you. You're doing so well." His hands wandered your body; one cupped one of your breasts, and the other drew circles on your side. He leaned into you, his beard rough against your neck as he nipped at the sensitive skin there.

Simon's fingers join his mouth, sliding inside you as his tongue continues its relentless assault. Price can feel your body seeking more, and he grins, knowing just how much you're enjoying this.

"Look at her, Simon," Price says in a husky voice. "She's fucking gorgeous like this. All flushed and needy." He leans back, giving Simon a better view of you, and watches as Simon's eyes darken with lust.

Price presses his cock against your ass, grinding into you, a low groan breaking free from him. "Fuck, angel," he mutters. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."

You can feel the heat emanating from Price's body; the way he seems to revel in this moment-in your pleasure-is intoxicating. Simon's fingers curl inside you, and you arch your back, a moan slipping past your lips.

Price's hand slips from your breasts down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles in perfect rhythm with Simon's tongue. The dual stimulation hits you at once, and you cling to Price, your nails digging into his skin as you allow yourself to fall deeper into the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

"She's close." Price growls, his voice hoarse. "You gonna’ come for us, pretty?" Simon's mouth works faster, his tongue flicking your clit with renewed urgency.

You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, leaving you trembling in Price's lap. Simon continues, drawing it out as much as he can before he pulls back, his eyes dark and hungry. Price's hand stays where it is, teasing your sensitive clit a little as he watches Simon stand up, his own cock hard and ready. Price's hand slides away, and he stands too, tugging you up with him.

"Get on your knees, love," Price orders in a strong voice. "Say thank you to Simon."

Still trying to catch your breath, you fall to your knees in front of Simon. His cock, thick and heavy, beading with precum.You don’t hesitate to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip..

Price stands behind you, watching you pleasure Simon, his hand resting on your head. "That's it-" he praises, his hand guiding your head, "Take care of him like he took care of you."

Simon's hand finds its way to the back of your head too, guiding you as his hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your waiting mouth.

Price watches, the satisfied grin still plastered on his face as he leans over, his lips meeting Simon's in a heavy, passion-filled kiss. His hand disappears from your head, now sliding to Simon's hip to pull him closer as their tongues dance.

You continue to pleasure Simon, your lips sliding up and down his shaft, your hand joining the effort to help the parts you can’t reach. The sight of Price kissing Simon only adds to your own arousal, the two looking as though it’s not the first time.

Price draws back from the kiss. "She's a natural, isn't she?" he murmurs-low and husky. "Takes’ to everything we ask her to do like she was born for it."

Simon nods, his eyes meeting yours whilst you continue sucking him off. "Fucking amazing," he agrees. "She's so goddamn responsive. I love seeing her like this."

"And she's ours," he says, a possessive edge to his voice. "No one else gets to have her like this. Just us."

Simon's grip on your head tightens as his hips move faster. "God, yes," he growls.

As his breathing becomes increasingly ragged, he reaches for Price's cock with his free hand. His fingers wrap around the shaft as he begins to stroke it in time with your mouth on him.

The sight of the two of them, the way they work together is intoxicating, your body humming with arousal. Price's fingers tug your hair gently while Simon's hips buck into your mouth, growing closer to the edge.

Simon's thrusts become more erratic as his orgasm washes over him, ropes of cum coating your tongue, before you swallow, much to his approval. Price observes this scene, his own orgasm not far behind either.

Price groans as Simon's strokes bring him closer to his own release. "Fuck, Simon," he growls, voice thick with desire. "You're going to make me come."

Simon's strokes don't let up, his thumb continuing to tease the head of Price's cock. "Go on then" he orders, his voice low in his chest. "Let go."

You draw back, eyes locked with Price as Simon's hand works him faster. You can see the tension in his body, muscles pulled tight and ready to snap.

Price's breath catches, his body straining as his orgasm rips through him. He groans, his head falling forward onto Simon’s shoulder as his release spills over Simon's hand and some dripping onto you as his body shakes from the force of it.

As Price descends from his high, he looks down at you, his eyes satisfied. He reaches out, hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes away the white glob from your cheek.

"You're such a good girl" he utters in a soft, murmuring tone. "All ours."

Simon pulls you up into his arms, his lips finding yours in a deep passionate kiss. You taste yourself on him, and it only serves to turn you on further.

Price watches, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as Simon takes over the kiss, his hand sliding down your back to your ass.

The three of you fall onto the bed again, bodies intertwined. And in this moment, surrounded by their warmth and strength, you know you're exactly where you're meant to be.

༄ cod m.list

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luveline · 1 day

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Can you write where the reader walks into James room and he's crying and its the first time shes seen him cry so she comforts him pls xx

thank you for your request! fem, 1.2k

James’ house is a sanctuary to everyone he’s ever met. There are scratches on the wall by the door where Sirius has thrown it open, long deep welts of ruin under a drunken hand, two best friends laughing to the bedroom where they share a bed. You’re used to Sirius by now, an extension of James you love and make room for, but waking up to the heir of the most noble family in London sleeping off a hangover with his face buried in your boyfriend's shoulder still surprises you. His snores never change.

Then there’s Remus, the sweetheart, tracking dirt into the living room because he so often forgets he’s wearing shoes, distracted by a book or a thought he shares in half smiles knowing James will listen.

You’re everywhere. In photos like the rest of them, in your coat on the hook, your clean washing on the stairs, your shoes in the bedroom cupboard. There’s a red smudge of your lipstick on the wall at the top of the stairs where James wiped your bottom lip and then used the wall to hang over you, kissing. He keeps meaning to paint over it, you know. He says the same thing every time you bring it up, a laughing, “I’ll get to it, you thing!”

You’re used to smiles and sounds here. You aren’t acquainted with this. Sniffles from the bedroom, long, stringing gulps of air and the answering sob. It makes your chest flip. James hasn’t cried in front of you in a year of dating and two years of knowing him. James doesn’t even get pissed off unless it’s for somebody else. Something awful must’ve happened. You rush to find out what.

In the bedroom, James is just sitting there falling apart. Just, sat on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking like an awful jagged up and down, like he’s hurting; the shock of it is in every inch of movement. James is beautiful in everything, skin and hands and dark, dark hair, but he’s hurting now as he drags fingers wet with tears through frizzing curls. He must have heard you coming up but he can’t stop, lifting his chin, an apology twisted in his mouth that he doesn’t say aloud.

“Lovely, what happened?” you ask, sure you’re gonna fall through the floor. “What happened? What–”

You aren’t giving him time to answer. You need to know.

“No, it’s alright–”

“It’s not alright,” you say, standing in front of him with stiff arms. “What happened, James?”

“It’s okay.” He cries a little, sniffs, looking up at you with swimming eyes. “It’s alright, I’m just– it’s just– well, it’s just everything, I suppose, but it’s…” He looks down, his mouth twisting again in an apology you don’t want to take. He shakes himself.

“James, what’s everything?”

“Silly stuff.” James takes your hand. Telling, that a boy who’s spent his entire life looking after the people he loves would attempt to comfort you with tears still hot on his cheeks.

You look down at his long fingers.

James plays piano. He learned your favourite song for you before he’d ever asked you out, and when he’d played it for you, he’d played so beautifully you felt sick for days, felt sick every time you thought of him, but in the moment he’d laughed at your teary eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. Lovely girl, he’d said, laughing, I won’t play it again if you’re gonna cry like that.

You figure he must want comfort as he gives it, wrapping your arms around him to steer him toward a soft kiss, his hair like strands of satin under your lips. “Nothing that upsets you like this could ever be silly.”

He pushes you away. Not without love, but pushing away regardless. He stands in the space you leave and wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands. It’s nearly like he’s dancing. Just the way his arms move. But then he drops them and turns away from you, your heart plummeting to your stomach.

“James.”

“It’s not like that. I was hoping I’d be done before you got home. Should we go out for dinner or something?”

“James–”

“What?” he asks, smiling, at odds with his sad eyes. “Love, it’s really fine, I’m fine.” Love. You let out a long breath, chest a cold ache slowly warmed by his gaze. There’s care for you in every eyelash, but it still shocks you when he hugs you. “It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.”

James. “Fucking hell, Jamie, I’m not scared, I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it for you.”

He chokes on breath. “I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t believe it himself, a crack running straight through his words. “Sorry,” he says, sickly, kissing the top of your head as you’d kissed his.

Clearly he’s not going to let you be the one domineering the situation, but that’s okay. He can kiss your head and hold you on the edge of too tight. You slip a hand under the edge of his T-shirt to stroke his back, until your hand is numb to it, and he’s sagging against you heavily.

“You’re really not fine, I can see that much.”

He’s quiet, but you can tell there’s something he wants to say.

“But that’s okay,” you say, hand clasping his back . You pat a steady rhythm there as he sighs. “It really is. I don’t know why you think you have to be finished crying before I get home, but that’s not true. You can cry. You can cry buckets. Please don’t pretend you’re not upset because of me, I’d feel so bad.”

Something hot and wet touches your forehead. “M’sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You pull back to pat his cheek.

James stares at you. Tears well in usually warm eyes and get caught in the wet hedge of his lashes. You try to wipe them away before they can fall —you don’t wanna see your sweetheart crying.

“Don’t frown,” he says softly.

“I’m trying not to. Here, let me,” —you wipe his cheeks with your sleeve, voice a muttering thing as his skin pinks beneath your touch— “just get that there for you. Your eyes are red, Jamie, I hope you haven’t been upset for too long.”

“No, uh. No, not too long.”

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I’d like to know.”

James’ face presses to your neck in seconds. He pauses, and then he sobs. That’s more like it. You stand there in the bedroom until your legs are stiff, and then you only move to lay him down in bed to be your little spoon. “It's not fine,” you say, your arm around him, the other playing in the swirl of his parting, “but it will be. You’re really too handsome for all these tears.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

He sounds sweet when he’s trying to make you laugh. You reach over him to kiss his hot cheek.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 days

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Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on.

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.”

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year.

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing.

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again.

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!”

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree.

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal.

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way.

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you.

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you.

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him.

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced.

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him?

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.”

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry.

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good.

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked.

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with.

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onlyhereforthestories · 2 days

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Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.

It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.

Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.

You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.

“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.

“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.

“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.

“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”

After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.

After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.

You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.

“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.

“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.

“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.

“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.

“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.

After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.

An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.

“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.

“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.

You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.

You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.

Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.

Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.

“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.

“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.

“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.

As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.

They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.

You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.

“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.

You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.

You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.

You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.

“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.

“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”

“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”

Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.

“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.

“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”

Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.

“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”

Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.

“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”

You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.

“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.

As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.

Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.

You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.

The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.

Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.

You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.

After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.

Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.

Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.

You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.

Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.

Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?

You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.

As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.

You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.

She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.

What if you don’t even want her around anymore?

The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.

She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.

What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?

Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.

She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.

In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.

That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.

When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.

What if you don’t want her here?

She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.

I shouldn’t have come.

She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.

But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.

What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?

She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.

She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?

Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.

Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.

It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.

The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?

You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.

Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.

Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.

"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.

"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"

There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.

"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.

"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."

You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."

Another beat of quiet passes.

"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.

"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.

She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"

You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."

The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.

Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.

"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.

As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.

Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.

"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.

"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.

She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."

Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.

You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.

"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."

You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.

The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.

When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.

You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”

You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.

“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.

She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.

You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.

“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.

“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”

She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”

You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”

Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”

You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.

“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”

You take a second to think about what you want to say next. Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.

You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.

“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”

Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”

You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.

“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.

Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.

After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.

“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.

Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.

��Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”

She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.

At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.

Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.

Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.

When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.

“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.

“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.

She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.

There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fic #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days

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Mignon & Pollito

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

@wileys-russo's Pollito x Teen!Reader

Summary: You and your partner in crime

Whether it was the gods smiling down on you or just an extreme miscalculation on the staff's part, you and Pollito end up sharing a room.

This training camp was only a week long so it must be fairly expensive to move you all from Barcelona to here but, you're not the higher-ups at the club so you don't get much of a say.

"I'm bored," Pollito declares and you roll your eyes.

"Would you prefer sleeping on the bottom bunk?" You ask dryly," I heard that's more interesting."

Pollito's head appears above you, poking over the edge of the top bunk that she had wrestled you onto the ground to get to first.

"Don't be silly!" She says, a smug grin on her face," I'm doing you a service! I'm letting you stay away from the top bunk boredom."

"I'm sure I can deal with it."

"Yeah, but you Frenchies always change your minds."

"I'm trying not to be offended here."

Pollito's grin only widens and her fingers appear to jab you in the forehead.

"I'm still bored."

"I've got UNO."

"UNO's shit."

"Unless you're playing Jana. I made twenty euros off her in one round."

"Oh, shit, you're right. Let's go and find Jana."

"We're banned," You remind her," After that time that we rigged the game."

"Oh, yeah."

The bed above you creaks as Pollito throws her back against in annoyance.

"Is there really nothing we're allowed to do?"

"Irene said that we can get lunch. We just have to tell the others that we're doing that."

"But they'll make us eat healthy."

"Yeah."

Silence for a moment and then...

"I'm bored!"

You jab your feet up into the mattress on top of you and Pollito yelps.

"What do you want me to do about that? Play you to sleep?"

"You'd play me to sleep?" Pollito scoffs," What does that mean? Kicking a ball at my head?"

"I meant with my flute, dimwit."

There's silence again

"You can play the flute. Since when?"

"Since always? This isn't new information."

"It is to me!"

Pollito peaks back over your bed, a wide grin spreading over her face. "I think I have an idea."

It's Irene who hears it first.

It starts off quiet, barely audible over the phone call with her wife and son. But it's still audible and she frowns.

"Are you playing music?" She asks and her wife shakes her head.

"It must be coming from your end."

Irene pokes her head out of her hotel room, spotting a few of the others doing the same.

"Who's playing that music?!" Alexia complains, looking like she's been woken up from a very good nap if her messy hair is anything to go by.

"I thought it was Pina."

"Me?" Pina scoffs," I don't like classical music."

"It's hardly classical music," Keira says," It's the song from the Muppets. You know that one that goes 'do doo be-do-do, mahna mahna, do do-do do'-"

Everyone to turns to look at her, similar looks of judgement as Keira peters off, face crimson.

"Or, you know, I think that's what it is."

"Either way," Alexia brushes her off," Who is making that noise?"

What started off as soft flute music suddenly gets louder and louder until it's booming across the whole floor and Alexia's grip tightens on her door frame.

Her eyes dart to the room at the end of the corridor and she does a quick count in her head.

Everyone and their roommates are hanging out of their doors, heads poking out to see what all the noise is.

Everyone except two people.

Her teeth grind together.

"Who let Pollito and Mignon in the same room together? Who let them room together with no supervision?"

Usually, Alexia would be the one sorting out all of the rooms but she'd left it to the staff this time because she'd gotten distracted on the bus when Pollito had hidden you up in the luggage rack and you'd taken it upon yourself to drip water onto Mapi's head from your hiding spot.

"Er...They might still be in there?" Pina offers up but everyone else knows that it's a pipe dream to say something like that.

"Spread out," Alexia snaps," And find them." She massages her temples. "They take years off my life."

The longer they take, the louder the music gets until it rings in their ears with every step.

There's thumping at the door and you jolt, your flute music wavering as Pollito pops her head up to look through the window.

"It's Ingrid and Frido! Pretend we're not here!"

You both hide under the window where they can't see you.

The change in position makes your playing a bit unstable for a moment as you adjust, fingers cramping from the past forty-five minutes of nonstop repetition.

"I know you're in there!" Frido bangs on the door," This is the room with the sound system. Come out!"

"You'll never take us alive!" Pollito yells back and you want to hit her for being stupid.

"Shut up! You've blown our cover."

A hand reaches through the window and you instantly want to murder the idiot who thought windows should be able to be opened from the outside because Ingrid's hand immediately grabs onto your flute.

You yelp, finally stopping your playing as you try to wrestle it back.

"Hey! No! That's mine!"

"Give it over," Ingrid says," And we'll tell Alexia that you both cooperated."

You pop your head over the window. "Give us a moment to discuss."

"We can't just give in," Pollito says to you in a hushed whisper.

"Well when our other option is to run the laps Alexia will make us do if she finds out we fought them..."

"You make a good point but...No, you do make a good point." Pollito sigh," Fine. Let's give in."

You clap her on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We may have lost the battle but we haven't lost the war."

Frido sighs from the other side of the door, hitting her head repeatedly against the wall.

"You're both so dramatic."

#woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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its-avalon-08 · 3 days

Note

Hello, my favourite Lando Norris writer. Can I request something with Lando where Reader has a son from a previous toxic relationship and Lando thinks she's like hiding something from, like cheating but she confess everything and Lando becomes the dad that stepped up. 🫶

miracle family (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - neglected child, tears, comfort

Lando sat at his dining table, staring at his phone. It had been a few days since he last saw Y/N, and though they’d spoken, something felt… off. She’d been distant, always rushing through their calls, making excuses to cut their time short. He told himself he was imagining it, that she was just busy, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let it go.

He thought back to their last date. They had planned to spend the entire evening together, but halfway through dinner, Y/N had gotten a call. She stepped outside to take it, her expression unreadable, but when she returned, her mood had shifted. Her usual brightness had dulled, and she seemed distracted for the rest of the night.

"Sorry, Lando, just some work stuff," she had said with a quick smile when he asked about the call. He didn’t press further, not wanting to seem pushy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Then there were the texts. Every time they were together, Y/N seemed to be checking her phone, typing quickly before locking the screen and setting it aside. She never let him see who she was messaging, and when he casually asked if everything was okay, she’d brush it off.

"Yeah, all good. Just a friend going through something," she had said once, her eyes darting away as if she couldn’t meet his gaze.

But the real moment that had started gnawing at him happened the previous weekend. Lando had invited Y/N to one of his races, excited to have her there with him. She’d always been supportive, her energy infectious, but this time, she’d been oddly quiet. When he asked if everything was alright, she just smiled tightly and said she was tired. But after the race, instead of joining him for drinks with the team, she had left abruptly.

"I’ve got to go, Lando. Something’s come up. I’ll explain later, okay?" Her voice had been apologetic, but her eyes… something about them seemed conflicted, like there was something she wasn’t telling him.

He didn’t know why, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone else. Was she hiding something from him? Maybe she was seeing someone behind his back, someone she wasn’t ready to tell him about. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her directly.

Instead, Lando had chosen to observe, watching her carefully over the next few weeks. The phone calls, the quick glances at her screen, the random moments of detachment—it all added up. But every time he was about to say something, the words got stuck in his throat. What if he was wrong? What if she wasn’t cheating, and he was just overthinking everything?

Yet the doubts remained. He found himself scrolling through their old texts late at night, trying to pinpoint when the change had started. He remembered how things used to be—how open and carefree Y/N had been with him. But lately, it felt like there was a wall between them, one she wasn’t letting him break through.

And then, there was that one time she came over to his apartment, looking tired and worn out. She had barely spoken, her eyes heavy with something she wouldn’t share. He had asked her if she wanted to talk, but she had only shaken her head.

"I’m fine, Lando. Just a lot going on."

"Is it work?" he had asked, gently pushing, hoping to understand what was weighing her down.

"It’s… complicated," she had murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Lando hadn’t said anything more that night, but the silence between them had been louder than any words could have been. He had held her close, but even then, she had felt far away.

Now, as he sat alone in his apartment, his mind spinning with unanswered questions, Lando couldn’t help but wonder: was Y/N hiding something from him? Or was it something bigger—something she was afraid to tell him?

Either way, he knew he couldn’t keep pretending everything was normal. Not when it felt like he was losing her, piece by piece.

time skip

Lando strolled through the supermarket aisles, humming softly to himself as he checked items off his shopping list. It was a rare day off, and he decided to take care of some errands. He rounded the corner into the cereal aisle when a small, energetic blur collided with his legs.

"Oh, sorry!" Lando exclaimed, looking down to see a young boy, probably around five years old, grinning up at him.

"It's okay, mister!" the boy chirped. "I was just trying to find the cereal with the marshmallows. Do you know where it is?"

Lando chuckled, kneeling down to the boy's level. "I think it’s a couple of shelves down. What's your name, buddy?"

"I'm Ethan!" the boy said proudly. "What's yours?"

"Lando. Nice to meet you, Ethan," Lando replied, ruffling the boy's hair.

Ethan's eyes widened with excitement. "Like the race car driver?"

Lando laughed. "Exactly like the race car driver."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with wonder. "Wow! My mummy loves race cars! She watches them all the time."

Lando smiled, charmed by the boy's enthusiasm. "Your mum has good taste. Speaking of which, where is she? Shouldn't she be keeping an eye on you?"

Ethan pointed towards the end of the aisle. "She's over there! Mummy! Mummy!"

Lando turned his head in the direction Ethan was pointing, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Y/N standing at the end of the aisle, a look of shock and surprise on her face. She quickly made her way over, her eyes wide with a mixture of emotions.

"Lan?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, uh baby," Lando replied, equally stunned. "I didn't know… I mean, Ethan is your…?"

Y/N nodded, kneeling down to scoop Ethan into her arms. "Yeah, ummm this is my son, Ethan."

Ethan beamed, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Mummy, this is Lando! He's the race car driver!"

Y/N managed a weak smile. "I know, sweetheart. Why don't you go pick out the cereal you wanted?"

Ethan nodded eagerly and ran off, leaving Lando and Y/N standing there, an awkward silence hanging between them.

"Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?" Lando asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

Lando stood frozen, Y/N’s words echoing in his mind.

“I have a son.”

The bustling supermarket seemed to fade into the background, the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of shopping carts drowned out by the weight of her confession. Y/N stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she held onto the shopping basket, her eyes wide and filled with fear, as though she was bracing herself for his reaction.

Lando blinked, trying to process the information. “You… you have a son?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip, and that was when her composure began to crack. Her eyes welled up, her breath hitching in her chest as the emotions she had tried so hard to suppress finally surfaced. "Lando, I didn’t know how to tell you. I was so scared you’d leave if you knew. I’ve been hiding it, and I’m so sorry. I—"

Her words choked off as tears streamed down her face. She dropped the basket, her hands covering her face as she sobbed, right there in the middle of the cereal aisle.

“I didn’t want you to think I was hiding it because I don’t trust you, it’s just… Ethan is my whole life. His father was—he was awful, and I didn’t know how to protect us. I’m so sorry, Lando, I should’ve told you sooner—”

But before she could finish, Lando was there, dropping everything as he closed the space between them. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her into his chest as her body shook with sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Lando whispered, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N.”

Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm so sorry," she cried, her words muffled against him. "I didn’t want to lose you. I was so scared."

Lando tightened his embrace, his hand gently stroking the back of her head. "You’re not losing me. You could never lose me."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her tear-streaked face. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “I wish you’d told me earlier, but I get it. I get why you were scared. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You and Ethan—you’re part of my life now. I want to be here for both of you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and hope. "You really mean that?"

Lando nodded, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I do. I love you, and if Ethan’s a part of your life, then he’s a part of mine too."

Fresh tears filled her eyes, but this time they weren’t from fear or sadness. They were from relief, from the overwhelming realization that she wasn’t alone anymore. "Lando… I don’t even know what to say."

“You don’t have to say anything. Just… trust me, okay? We’ll figure this out together.” He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly as her breathing slowly steadied, her sobs turning into soft sniffles.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet chaos of the supermarket, Lando knew that nothing else mattered. Not the people passing by, not the curious glances from other shoppers. All that mattered was Y/N and the promise he had made—to be there for her, to be there for Ethan, no matter what.

And as he held her, he realized that this was what love was about. Not just the good moments, but the hard ones too—the moments where you drop everything to be there for the person you love, no questions asked.

At that moment, Ethan came running back with a box of cereal, his face glowing with excitement. "I found it, Mummy! Look!"

Y/N and Lando both laughed, the tension dissipating as they turned their attention to the enthusiastic boy.

"Great choice, Ethan," Lando said, giving him a high-five. "How about we go check out and then grab some ice cream?"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "Yes, please!"

As they made their way to the checkout, Lando glanced at Y/N, his heart swelling with love and commitment. He knew that their journey together wouldn't always be easy, but he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Y/N, for Ethan, and for the family they were about to become.

--- extra scene p.s.a - abusive partner ----

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the park, Ethan ran ahead to the playground, his laughter filling the air. Lando and Y/N watched him for a moment, their hands intertwined as they sat on a nearby bench.

"He's really something," Lando said softly, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fixed on Ethan. "He is. He's my whole world."

Lando glanced at her, squeezing her hand gently. "Y/N, can we take a walk? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Y/N looked at him, a hint of worry in her eyes, but she nodded. "Sure, Lando."

They stood up and began to walk along the path that circled the playground, the sounds of children playing fading into the background.

"Y/N," Lando began hesitantly, "I want to understand more about Ethan's father. About what you went through. But only if you're ready to talk about it."

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around Lando's. "It's… it's not easy to talk about. But you deserve to know."

She paused, collecting her thoughts as they walked. "Ethan's father, Mark, was… he was charming at first. But it didn't take long for his true colors to show. He was controlling, manipulative, and it only got worse over time."

Lando's grip on her hand tightened in silent support as she continued. "He would get angry over the smallest things, and his anger… it was terrifying. He hurt me, Lando. Physically, emotionally. I stayed because I thought I could change him, that things would get better. But they never did."

Y/N's voice broke, and she wiped away a tear that had escaped. "When I found out I was pregnant with Ethan, I knew I had to leave. I couldn't let him grow up in that environment. I was scared, but I knew it was the right thing to do."

Lando stopped walking, turning to face her. "Y/N, I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you. You're so strong."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. "I don't feel strong, Lando. I felt broken and alone. But I had to protect Ethan. I had to give him a chance at a better life."

Lando pulled her into a tight embrace, his own eyes glistening with tears. "You did the right thing. And you're not alone anymore. You have me, and I'll be here for both of you. Always."

Y/N sobbed against his chest, the weight of her past finally lifting as she felt the warmth of his love and support. "Thank you, Lando. Thank you for being here, for understanding."

He kissed the top of her head, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you, Y/N. And I love Ethan. We'll make this work, I promise."

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them fading away. When they finally pulled back, Lando gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Let's go back to Ethan," he said softly. "He's probably wondering where we went."

Y/N nodded, a small but genuine smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, let's go."

As they walked back to the playground, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of hope and peace that she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Lando by her side, she was ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

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rafedarling · 3 days

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew tries to play a playful prank by taking off his wedding ring, but his smart and sweet 2-year-old son, rustyn, immediately notices and innocently points out that it might make mommy sad. what starts as a simple joke turns into a heartwarming reminder of the love and connection between you, drew, and your son, and the importance of the little things that symbolize that love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, heartwarming family moments, playful teasing, and deep emotional connections.

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

The afternoon sun streamed lazily through the living room windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The warmth of the sunlight and the gentle sound of waves from outside made everything feel peaceful and calm—your perfect little haven. You were curled up on the couch with your son, Rustyn, nestled comfortably in your lap, his small head resting against your chest. He was two, but sometimes you marveled at how much older he seemed, with his sharp curiosity and his endless questions.

Rustyn’s favorite book was in your hands as you read to him, your voice soft and soothing as you flipped through the colorful pages. Every few moments, Rustyn would point to a picture and ask you about it. His little hands would grab at the air in excitement as he processed each new detail.

“Mommy, why is that bunny wearing a hat?” Rustyn asked, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Maybe he’s going on an adventure, sweetie. What do you think?”

Rustyn considered this seriously, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Yeah, maybe. I like adventures.”

“I know you do,” you said with a smile, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll have lots of them when you get bigger.”

Rustyn nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer, and snuggled closer to you. He let out a small sigh, content in the warmth of your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love as you continued to read. These were the moments you cherished—the quiet, everyday moments that made your little family feel complete.

As you were nearing the end of the story, you noticed Drew standing in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. He was watching the two of you with that familiar look of affection in his eyes, the one that always made you feel so loved. But today, there was something else—a mischievous twinkle that you hadn’t quite noticed before.

Drew took a sip of water, then set the glass down with a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t say anything, just casually strolled into the living room and leaned down to scoop Rustyn up from your lap.

“Come here, little man,” Drew said, his voice warm as he lifted Rustyn into his arms.

Rustyn squealed in delight, wrapping his tiny arms around Drew’s neck and giggling as Drew spun him around in a playful circle. “Dada!” Rustyn cried out, his laughter echoing through the room.

“Having fun with Mommy?” Drew asked, settling Rustyn on his hip, still grinning as he glanced at you.

“Yeah! Mommy was reading to me,” Rustyn said proudly, his voice full of excitement.

But as Rustyn snuggled against Drew, his sharp little eyes caught something unusual. He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in confusion as he stared at Drew’s left hand. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, following Rustyn’s gaze, you realized that Drew’s wedding ring was missing.

Rustyn furrowed his tiny brow, clearly puzzled. His voice, though small and innocent, was filled with a sense of concern. “Dada...where’s your ring?”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly Rustyn had noticed. You hadn’t even realized it yourself, but there it was—Drew’s left hand, conspicuously bare. You glanced at Drew, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to respond.

Drew, ever the playful one, kept his cool. He smiled down at Rustyn, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Dada just didn’t feel like wearing it today, buddy.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you watched Drew, a mixture of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. What was he up to? He knew how much that ring meant to both of you, and though it wasn’t a serious situation, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to play out.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. His little face scrunched up again, and he looked from Drew’s hand to your face, his innocent expression filled with concern. He tugged lightly on Drew’s shirt, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“Dada,” Rustyn said in his most serious tone, his voice soft but full of wisdom beyond his years, “you know you gonna make Mommy sad.”

The room fell into silence, the weight of Rustyn’s innocent words settling between the three of you. You felt your heart swell as you looked at your son, his little face so earnest and full of love for both of you. His concern for your feelings, even at such a young age, was enough to make your heart melt.

Drew’s grin faltered slightly as he looked at Rustyn, clearly taken aback by his son’s sharp observation. The teasing light in his eyes softened, and he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice filled with affection as he looked back down at Rustyn. “You think Mommy will be sad if I don’t wear my ring?”

Rustyn nodded, his tiny hand reaching out to touch Drew’s bare finger. “Yeah, ‘cause it means you love her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Rustyn’s sweet words, and you had to blink back the sudden tears that pricked at your eyes. How did this little boy know so much? How could someone so young be so in tune with your feelings? It was moments like these that reminded you just how special Rustyn was.

Drew’s eyes softened even further as he looked at you, and the playful smirk faded into something much more tender. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wedding ring with a slow, deliberate motion. He slid it back onto his finger, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Well, we can’t have Mommy being sad, can we, buddy?” Drew said softly, his voice warm as he turned his attention back to Rustyn. “Is that better?”

Rustyn’s face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart flutter. “Yeah, Dada! Now you make Mommy happy again!”

Drew chuckled, glancing at you with a loving smile. “What do you think? Is our little man right? Does the ring make you happy?”

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you nodded. “He’s always right,” you said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze Drew’s hand. “You know how much that ring means to me.”

Drew leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand still entwined with yours. “I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

Rustyn, clearly pleased with the resolution of the situation, snuggled into Drew’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s neck. “Dada loves Mommy,” he said with absolute certainty, as if there had never been any doubt.

Drew smiled, looking down at Rustyn with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re right, Rusty. I love Mommy very much.”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, as if he had solved a great mystery. “I knew it,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart swelling with love for both Drew and Rustyn. You reached out, wrapping your arms around both of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s cheek before turning to Drew and kissing him softly on the lips.

Drew smiled against your lips, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “We love you too,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness.

As the three of you sat there, wrapped up in each other’s love, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the three of you—your perfect little family, full of love, laughter, and moments like these that made everything else seem small in comparison.

Rustyn, ever the observant toddler, let out a small yawn, his little body relaxing as the excitement of the day began to catch up with him. He nestled deeper into Drew’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled into the warmth of his dad’s chest.

As you watched Drew tuck your son into bed, your heart swelled with love once more. It was moments like these—simple, sweet moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have this little family.

As Drew gently closed Rustyn’s bedroom door, he turned to you with a soft smile, his hand reaching for yours. “You know I was just teasing with the ring, right?” he asked quietly, pulling you into his arms as he led you back toward the living room. His voice was low and full of sincerity now, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a quiet tenderness.

You smiled up at him, resting your hand against his chest as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm. “I know,” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his. “But Rustyn was right. It does mean a lot to me, even if it’s just a ring.”

Drew’s expression softened even further, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know, baby. I’ll never take it off again, I promise,” he said, his tone serious but still filled with that warmth you loved so much. “At least not without a really good reason.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “You better not,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection.

Drew smiled down at you, his forehead resting against yours as he held you in the quiet comfort of the moment. “I know I joke around sometimes,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. This ring—it’s a promise, not just for show.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, your hand still resting against his chest as you leaned into him. “I never doubt it,” you whispered back. “Not for a second.”

The two of you stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The house was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Rustyn’s rhythmic breathing coming from his bedroom, and the golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow through the windows, making everything feel peaceful and serene.

Drew’s arms tightened around you slightly, and he let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you. “Rustyn’s growing up so fast,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe. “I still can’t believe how smart he is—how much he picks up on.”

You smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I know,” you agreed, your voice filled with love for your little boy. “He’s always surprising me with how much he understands. I wasn’t expecting him to notice your ring like that.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Neither was I. I thought I’d get away with the prank at least until bedtime.” His smile softened, and he glanced down at his hand, where the ring now sat securely. “But you know what? I’m glad he noticed.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Why’s that?”

Drew’s eyes met yours again, his gaze full of love and affection. “Because it reminded me how much this little ring means. Not just to you, but to him too. He understands that it’s important—he gets that it’s a symbol of how much we love each other. And that… well, that makes me even prouder to wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline. “You’re a good man, Drew Starkey,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “And you’re the love of my life,” he replied, his voice just as tender.

He leaned down then, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. His hands rested gently on your waist as he pulled you even closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a perfect rhythm that matched the quiet contentment of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, Drew rested his forehead against yours once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

“For this. For our life. For Rustyn. For everything.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love that it made your heart ache. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything.”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of love and gratitude that you felt every time you looked at him. “Neither would I,” you whispered back.

The two of you stood there everything felt perfect—your little family, your life together, the quiet joy that filled your days. It wasn’t always grand gestures or big moments that made life special. Sometimes, it was the small, simple things—like the way Drew looked at you when he wore his ring, or the way Rustyn’s innocent questions could change the course of a day—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey gif #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfic #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut

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verdenz · 2 days

Note

franco /lando👏watching👏someone👏else 👏 make👏his👏gf👏 laugh

SEEING SOMEONE ELSE MAKING YOU LAUGH

FEATURING:⠀⠀Lando Norris, Franco Colapinto.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ⠀⠀Sorry for taking so long to write and post this! School is taking up my time.

୨୧⠀⠀⠀LANDO NORRIS

"Having fun?" he asked, arms crossed as he stared at you. You had been chatting amicably with Carlos, just seconds before he left for an interview.

You smiled at your boyfriend, not immediately noticing his bad mood. "Just talking while waiting for you." Your smile faded when he didn’t hug you back, keeping his arms crossed and what looked like a pout on his lips. You pinched his cheek. "Oh, come on, aren’t you too old to pout, Lando?"

He immediately bit his lip, looking away. "I’m not–"

"Are you jealous of Carlos? Carlos?" Lando took a deep breath and put an arm around your shoulder, using his other hand to mess up your hair as he pulled you to a more private spot; he wasn’t a big fan of cameras watching you two.

"No, I was just curious. You don’t laugh like that at my jokes." You squinted at his blatant lie, before he started laughing himself. "I’m going to pay someone to make a headline saying you abandoned me."

"Haha." You rolled your eyes. Lando leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"See? You’re not laughing at my joke."

୨୧⠀⠀⠀FRANCO COLAPINTO

You were at a restaurant with some of his friends. It wasn’t anything special, just a casual dinner among acquaintances, though most of them were unfamiliar to you.

By the end of the night, on the way back home, Franco wasn’t talking much, which was unusual since he usually chatted a lot around you. You assumed he was just tired.

As soon as you stopped in front of the house, he pulled your hand away from the door, opened his own, and ran around to open yours himself. You had barely stepped out when you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. "Who was that talking to you? You seemed like you were having fun."

"Wait, I thought you knew him." You said with a quiet laugh, pulling away to open the door to the house. He followed you inside, playing with your purse.

"Was he funnier than me?" He asked softly as he came in with you. You asked him to repeat because you hadn’t heard him clearly. "Nothing… it’s just, you guys were talking a lot, huh?"

You turned, taking off your coat. "He just asked me to get him some water and said something I thought was funny, that’s all." Franco frowned, hugging you again.

"I mean, from my point of view, it was flirting," he said. "You know, your body is made up of a lot of water." You laughed, incredulous at his logic. "But see? I know how to make you laugh better."

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #franco colapinto #lando norris x you #franco colapinto x reader

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endless-ineffabilities · 3 days

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chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you.

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky.

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected.

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces.

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different.

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction.

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait.

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore.

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks.

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in.

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is.

Maybe he’s it.

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine.

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom.

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him.

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists.

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust.

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet.

And you have a heated… What was it called again?

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay.

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you.

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind.

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works.

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water.

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery.

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable.

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen.

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact.

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?”

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake.

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather.

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask.

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks.

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed.

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him.

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating.

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice.

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to.

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his.

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality.

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea.

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna.

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now.

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most.

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice.

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end.

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t.

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken.

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting.

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room.

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track.

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command.

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep.

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him.

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features.

“Love… you’re awake.”

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfiction #matt smith #matt smith x reader #chemical override #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd

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theblacklewinsky · 2 days

Text

Note: back with our favorite boo, Terry. It's my birthday, but I guess I can gift y'all with something lol! ❤️

Helpful Neighbors. | Aaron Pierre.

Toxic!Neighbor Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on. toy play, water sports), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint.

Summary: You confront your noisy neighbor about his loud late night company, he allows you to retaliate.

you fucking nasty,

first you cum and then you wipe it on my ass cheeks.

There wasn't much that you knew about your neighbor Terry. You knew he was generally friendly, you bringing him a small housewarming gift of a bath and bodywork's candle when he'd first moved in months prior. You knew he was a vet based on the marines sticker on the bumper of his pick up. You knew he was active, you often seen him heading out for camping trips, often seeing him in the apartments shared gym area when you'd take time out of your busy schedule to get a short work out in. You knew he was gorgeous, anybody could attest to that.

And he was loud. Very fucking loud.

And if you didn't know anything else, you knew that for sure.

The noise varied. Most nights he was particularly quiet, you wouldn't even have noticed anybody lived there if you hadn't seen him before. But some nights, he was a little loud. Metal music from an 80's band bled through the apartment walls, straight into your bedroom, you actually didn't mind it—being an exhausted charge nurse, the metal music did something for you, calming you in a strange way. Him seemingly fixing something, sometimes in the latest hours, drilling, hammering.

But it wasn't any of that. There wasn't any metal music. But he was sure drilling or hammering somebody. And she was extensively louder than anything you'd heard from Terry's apartment. You had to quickly grab your remote, muting your comfort show on your television to make sure she wasn't screaming blood murder.

It wasn't bloody murder, but she was screaming alright. You sighed, it was your first off day in two weeks of working straight in the trauma unit of the local hospital. It'd been a viscous stomach bug going around, and with the big panic from the prior pandemic, the hospital wasn't risking another one slipping up—so work was rough, and long.

But maybe you were bitter? It'd been way too long since you'd properly got your rocks off—not anything involving your beloved rose. So maybe you were just a bit bitter that at least somebody was getting theirs. Good for him! Just not on tonight. Not this night. You'd planned to crawl in bed, eat the most unhealthiest snacks in your cabinet and watch your comfort show, and maybe weep the prior two weeks out onto your pillow, you deserved a good cry after all, girl.

You sighed heavily, placing the pillow over your head letting out a groan. You'd definitely have to catch him in the morning and talk about this, cause this was outrageous.

Maybe sleep was out of the equation, but you'd definitely moved on to weeping.

The morning sprung and you jumped into action. Due to working 7AM to 7PM, you left out for work around the same time as a Terry did his morning runs. 6AM.

You woke up at 5:30 on a mission, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare and putting on your biggest t-shirt, sweatpants to match, oh you meant business.

You caught him as soon as he'd left his door, jogging the opposite way of your apartment toward the elevators before you called out to him. He turned confused at first until he noticed you, giving a lazy morning smile as he did. Black compression shirt, with the pair of black basketball shorts to match. He had no business being so damn fine. But you weren't deterred by that, last night was fucking atrocious.

"Goodmornin', beautiful," he smoothly recited like he did every morning. He was just nice like that. He said it every morning without fail, he always found something to compliment you on. New color of scrubs, how you decided to get your hair, even sweeter when he sees you out of your deliciously fitting scrubs.

"Good morning Terry," you smiled weakly, "I don't mean to disturb your routine, but can we talk for a minute?" You uneasily shifted your weight. You weren't good with confrontation, it just wasn't in your nature, but you didn't play about your sleep.

He nodded and you walked inside still holding the door open for him to signal him to follow you. He did, his smile faltering a bit once he came inside, you could tell he was confused a little thrown off.

You closed the door behind y'all, moving into your large kitchen area to pour yourself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" You politely asked him to which he politely rejected holding up his thermal water bottle.

You added your usual fixings to your coffee, taking a cautious sip, cradling your mug in your hand before you continued. "I don't mean to be confrontational when I say this," you walked around him heading into the living area, plopping on your newly purchased gray plush sectional, " but you were very ...loud last night." You chose your words, nicely.

He featured you a puzzling look, his finger gesturing to the comfortable chair adjacent to you, "of course." You quickly obliged before he took a seat, uneasily continuing. "Your lady...company, I meant." Sex talk wasn't your thing. Sex was sacred to talk about for you—and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable at all.

"Oh shit," he softly cursed, his expression filled with slight concern, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were bein' so loud, I hope we ain't keep you up."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," you quickly intercepted not wanting him to feel any type of way, "it's just my first day off in a couple of weeks so I just wanted to wind down with some quiet time and you guys were very...vocal," you chuckled to diffuse the awkwardness of the conversation, to which he added a light chuckle of his own, "at least somebodies getting their rocks off around here." You said jokingly before taking a sip of coffee. You hoped that didn't sound suggestive.

A short moment of silence followed your statement before you recognized Terry's eyes locked on something behind you for responding, "I see I ain't the only one gettin' mine," you furrowed your brows slowly turning your attention to where he was previously locked on. Your rose, sitting cleaned and comfortably on your end table.

You really had to learn to start putting shit back.

Or maybe not.

Somehow you found yourself on your back, pinned to the couch, Terry folding you up in missionary, knees to your chest, rose to your clit as he gave you long, deep, torturing strokes. You couldn't even remember the quick and somehow satisfying foreplay you'd taken to get here—and you didn't even care anymore. You could feel the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix, and as if you weren't loud enough, you got louder. How ironic? You could barely hear yourself think, or were you thinking at all?

"Mhm," he hummed, his face composed, nothing but his teeth lightly sunken into his bottom teeth as he drilled you in, finger tips of his thumb and pointer finger giving your right nipple light squeezes and tugs, he kept his eyes on you, even when they rolled back, quickly turning up the vibrator, "look at you, mama. Why you bein' so vocal? Why you bein' so fuckin' loud, baby?" He taunted.

"My god, Terry," you whined, breathless, he kept up, dick hitting that spot that made your toes curl. How was he so good at this shit? You understood her completely. It wasn't atrocious at all. Very understandable. Very justified.

"Yeah, baby?" He quirked his brow up, his own soft groans almost mocking yours. "You want her to hear you? She still next door, wake her ass up mama. She kept you up all night didn't she?" He asked tearing his fingers away from your nipples to slap firmly against your cheek prompting an answer from you.

"Yessss," you slurred out, throat raw from moaning and groaning. You'd say yes to anything he asked you in this moment. You'd adopt six German kids and live on a farm with him if he requested you to do so in this moment, the world was his oyster. He was digging you out so good, so deliciously good. He was getting more than your rocks off and you knew that when the pressure in the pit of your tummy came weighing down on your bladder. "Ooouuu fuck! Fuck I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," he chuckled, evil all evident in his tone, all in his smile as he glanced down to the mess unfolding between y'all, "wet this dick up baby, I feel that shit." He groaned, eyes zoning in on the creamy ring you were leaving around him. "Wet me up, and you better wake her ass up when you do."

"Cumming!" You abruptly announced nearly cutting him off from his lewd rant, the sounds of your own arousal clashing with his dick sent you tumbling over the edge, clear juices spurting out of you with so much force it ejected him out as well. It only prompted a more lazy laugh out of him, shaking the suction of the rose on your clit even faster. Trembling underneath him, your breath hitched in your throat as he sent you into complete overdrive, your voice was hoarse once a moan came tumbling out of you loud and broken. Why did you cum so hard from knowing that she was next door, possibly hearing you get your nut off with him?

"I like that shit, mama," he mumbled to you, turning the rose off slapping his free hand down on your clit, watching your body jerk in response. He said nothing dipping his body down momentarily to give your soft, sensitive nub three sloppy, mind numbing sucks. He was so loud and lewd with it, smacks loud, tongue slurping loudly. You were too turned on, too sensitive, but too fucked out to even object given how sensitive you were. He stood up on his knee once again, other floor planted flat on the ground. "Sticking up so pretty f'me and shit," he hummed, "put that ass in the air, I'm finna give her some more."

You whined, you were too tired to move. If this was sex? What the fuck were you having before? And he seemed to insatiable, how was he asking you for more when you already so tattered from your last orgasm?

"Can't," you weakly managed to get out.

He took the initiative to help you, his hands firmly grasping your hips and flipping you over roughly, bringing your hips up into the air, spreading out so nicely for him. He moaned in response, looking at how both your holes seemed to open for him. He slapped his massive hand against your ass cheek, the loud sound seemingly filling your quiet apartment, a high wince following behind it, his dick twitching at the recoil. "You gon be a good girl for daddy and hold this shit on your clit while I take care of you back here?" He asked you the dominating reference only furthering the throbbing in your pussy, one hand softly kneading the sting out from his slap. You could hear the quiet buzzing from behind you, head nodding eagerly as your hand reached from under you, making grabby motions for the toy.

Once it was in your possession, you placed it where he asked you, body lightly trembling since your clit hadn't had a moment long enough without stimulation. Both his large hands had been planted on your ass cheeks, spreading you apart for him. He groaned in response, spitting down onto your second hole winking for him so sweetly, you moaned in response to his lewd action. "Fuck yeah," he muttered sending another lighter slap to your ass. No further words were spoken as he grabbed his girthy member in his hands, fat tip rubbing softly against your slit before he stretched you open once again around him.

A loud whine erupted from you as soon as you felt him sliding into you, stretching you, the light sting providing the perfect pain to compliment the pleasure of him literally stuffing you. It was mind numbing for him, feeling you stretch and clench around him so perfectly, gummy, wet walls feeling so warm and snug around him. "Pussy so fuckin' good," he muttered not sure to who, you or him.

His strokes had already started off staggering; hard and deep. Pelvis slamming into your ass with loud, rippling sounds through your apartment, the force literally nudging your couch across the floor. You couldn't care about the scratches you knew were now engrained in your hardwood flooring, everything was so good. Too good.

"Fuckkkk!" You slurred out, eyes fluttering closed, face pressed against the plush cushions beneath you. Brainless wasn't the word for you. You were hyper focused on the pleasure you were receiving, the vibrations from the toy, Terry's back breaking strokes, and the sounds of your arousal around him didn't help the diagnosis. Your free hand held onto the top of the couch for a sense of stability. "Why—why you fuckin' me like this?!" You stammered out through a moan, voice hoarse and broken.

"What you mean, mama?" He asked through a groan, sending another rough slap to your ass. "You such a good girl, you deserve this dick. Workin' all hard and shit, always lookin' so fuckin' good." He grunted, working himself inside of you. Thumb tracing your asshole teasingly. "You deserve some good dick, baby."

The praise only heightened your moans, encouraging you to slam your ass back on him until you felt your own orgasm once again lurking around the corner.

"Show the fuck out, then, baby," he said breathlessly, stilling his own movements as he watched as you fucked yourself on his dick, ass slamming back onto his pelvis with dizzying recoil.

"Shiiiit! I'm finna cummmm!" You moaned out, your movements only increasing in pace, using him for your own pleasure now. And he ate that shit up.

"That's right, get that nut mama. Get yo' shit, fuck me," he affirmed through a series of groans accentuating your own, "fuck, I feel all that shit. Nasty ass bitch, get that nut." His dirty words filling your ears as you released around him, halting your movements. Squirting for the second time, the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks literally. This one cramped your muscles as it temporarily paralyzed you, huge steaks of pleasure coursing through you. Terry didn't give you a moment to recover, his own climax brewing in the background. He resumed his strokes as if he never stopped, powerful, fast and hard. The rose clobbered to the floor with a hard thud, still buzzing away as your body flattened into the couch, Terry using his upper body strength to drop dick in you.

"You runnin?" He asked breathlessly through a series of overstimulating strokes to your pussy. "Why you runnin? Daddy, let you get yours right? Let daddy get his." He hummed to you.

You couldn't tell him you were overstimulated. Could you talk at all? Were you even breathing? What the fuck even was this?

"Dick got you goin' stupid, look at you," he groaned, dick hitting that spot again, and again. You came again, with announcement. You hadn't even known you were that close again. "Fuck, you keep cummin' on my dick."

Your voice came back to you in little squeals, nodding in agreement to his last statement.

"Pussy so good—I'm finna nut baby," his voice rushed and panicked as he kept up his strokes, "fuck I'm finna nut—shit!" He hurriedly pulled out of you, groans and grunts spilling from him earnestly as warm, ropes of cum painted your ass.

That was so unreal.

You focused on steadying yourself as you heard Terrys whispered curses behind you. It wasn't long before you heard his lazy chuckle, soft lips kissing down your spine causing a small chill to sneak through you. "You good?"

"Yes? I dunno," you answered bleakly, voice rasped out. Terry laughed gently, hands rubbing some warmth into your thighs and midsection.

"You enjoyed yourself?" He asked softly, kissing up to your neck, and shoulder tenderly. You nodded eagerly to his question, earning another chuckle for him. He sounded so good. "I'm glad, where towels at pretty girl. Lemme clean you up."

"Bathroom closet," you jammed your finger in the direction of the closet. You were halfway into a slumber when Terry came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up gently.

You knew for a fact it was gonna be a lot of noise coming from the both of your apartments.

still don't have a tag list together but I hope y'all enjoyed another toxic Terry fic 🫡 my favorite Terry after all! Happy Friday! 💗

#aaron pierre #fine black men #fine as fuck #black writers #black!fem!reader #rebel ridge #terry richmond

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thaatdigitaldiary · 1 day

Text

open your eyes

paige bueckers x fem reader

you and paige have been best friends since highschool. being basically inseparable your whole lives and going into college, you’re so oblivious to the fact that your best friend’s “kind words” was her flirting with you.

fluff and flirtation, minimal drinking, slight angst but cuteness at the end

hiii!! so this is my second fic and i’ll admit this is fun LMFAO, expect more! thank you for the love on my last one!! masterlist coming soon for ya - ke

enjoy!🙂‍↕️ (kinda long!) tags: @rosemariiaa @bueckerscore @juspeaks/@ohbueckers @ashortyluvsports @patscorner @mrsarnold here yall go <3

you and paige were inseparable all your lives. there was never a moment you were apart, and if you were, questions like "where's paige" or "where's y/n" would surface, unusual if you two were seperated.

paige has been good at basketball her whole life, she was popular, good at sports, and overall a major people person, while you were more introverted and quiet, and less known around the school. it sucked that when people DID know you, they didn't know your name. "oh that's paige's best friend," "oh yeah, paige knows her,". you got over it after a while because paige cared about you, and that's what mattered most.

paige however, made sure she mentioned you in every conversation possible,

"y/n loves those,"

"y/n is smart as hell, she helped me pass all through highschool. she's amazing at like.. everything,"

"she just gets me"

being a senior in highschool was your biggest year, graduating and taking the next step in life, not by yourself but with your best friend. paige and you both were committing to uconn, an amazing school with great academic programs, and an amazing basketball team for paige. the one thing paige was excited for, was spending the next four years with her best friend, who for some reason she couldn't keep her eyes off of.

paige constantly beat herself up for slowly falling for you, as you weren't huge on reciprocating the sappy things like she was, but in all honesty that was just her personality. paige would occasionally flirt with you, but you just assumed it was her being kind and complimenting you, even though everytime it happened your knees felt like they'd snap.

paige was a gorgeous girl, beautiful blue-filled eyes, that pierce everytime you two made eye contact with one another, it made your stomach ripple. but why?

it was a saturday night, around 9 pm when paige texted you to come to a small get together being hosted at one of the men’s teams houses for uconn basketball players, but you know paige can't go anywhere without you.

you answer back, a little nervous as parties aren't your strong suit, but soon after you receive another text.

"i know parties aren't your thing beautiful, i want you to know that if at anytime you wanna leave, i'm leaving too"

she really knows you huh?

"i want you to have fun p, i'll be good i promise" you said, not really meaning it, but also not wanting to interfere with your best friend getting to know some people on campus.

"ma listen, i'm here with you, so i leave with you. got it?"

you don't put up a fight, you respond with a "got it.", and put your phone down to find something to wear.

you didn't understand why paige called you these nicknames, but all you knew was it drove you crazy, and anytime someone else said it, it didn't hit the same.

was that weird?

you go looking in your closet, recently purchasing some new skirts, bodysuits, and dresses to try and switch things up from your usual overly basic outfits.

you wore a black flared bodysuit, something a little out of your comfort zone, but you've been going to the gym a lot recently, and your body was on point, and what better way to show it off?

after getting dressed, doing your hair and makeup and spraying your perfume, you go to put on a gold locket, inside holds a picture of you and paige as kids on halloween, you two dressed as princess peach and mario, (paige's request), faces so youthful.

watching paige grow up came with its perks. she got super talented, even taller, more wise and mature, muscular, and fucking beautiful.

looking at her arms was a daily occurrence to say the least.

was it weird for you to look at paige this way, after all she is your best friend, but you can't help how good she looked.

if only you knew.

after you're finished getting ready, you take a shot just to be safe, needing to ease up a little. you text paige that you're done getting ready, and she quickly responds,

"i'm otw"

why did your stomach drop? was it the shot?

don't be stupid.

a couple minutes pass, and your dorm door knocks, knowing it's paige, you straighten your hair up and go answer it.

she immediately embraces you, her tall figure taking you in, and holding you for a little over the time you should be hugging your best friend, well at least you thought.

"damn you look good y/n," she said looking you up and down and smirking, making you blush slightly.

"thank you p, i really didn't know what to wear so i hope this was good enough," you tell her, just happy she thinks you look beautiful.

"you look amazing ma, you always do."

can she be anymore obvious?

"you don't look too bad yourself p." smiling at her, making paige turn red in the face.

she had on a black shirt and cargos, almost matching you in a way, but you liked that honestly.

you two arrive to the party, and you're introduced to paige's basketball team, meeting some really funny and sweet girls, making you feel welcome and comfortable. they grew to know you for you, instead of having the "paige's best friend" title.

you really didn't wanna drink despite your shot earlier, but you were still so tense.

even worse now that you can't shake the feeling that you think you're possibly in love with paige.

but that'd be stupid, paige doesn't see you in that way.

but paige did, she always has.

she was the one to be by your side, the one to be there when you cried, she always was regardless.

she tried to make things obvious, she flirted with you any chance she got, called you nicknames only you deserved, made sure you were okay in every inconvenience, when you cried because of school and home life, she was there, she was your outlet.

you were queasy, feeling sick and you didn't know why.

then you look up and see paige and another girl, except she's hitting on paige.

and it makes you so upset.

you storm out of the party, tears slowly forming in your eyes, fucking up your makeup you took ages on, making you even more frustrated. paige texts your phone,

"where are you??? did you leave??? i can't find you y/n i'm worried"

"y/n??"

"ma please respond where are you"

you open the message, not really wanting to, but you want her, so bad.

"i'm outside." you type back, tone passive aggressive.

she sees you sitting on the stairs outside the house, hands on your face to cover your mascara stained eyes.

"what's the matter ma?"

"why did you leave, i told you we leave togethe-"

"it doesn't matter paige." you cut her off.

she takes your hands away from your face, so she can get a good look at you.

"tell me what's wrong, please?"

you look at her soft expression, eyes full of love and concern, and it dawns on you.

i'm in love with my best friend.

"i don't know paige, it's so confusing, I'M confused."

"confused how?" keeping the curiosity in her voice, letting you know she was interested in what you had to say.

"i guess seeing you and that girl tonight pissed me off, i don't know why i'm feeling this way, i'm sorry."

"it pissed you off?" she asks.

"yeah, it's weird i know, i can forget about the whole thin-"

she cuts you off with a kiss, holding your face while your lips connect, feeling her nose brush against yours, and smiling into the kiss.

“cmon mama open them eyes, all i want is you.” she tells you, making your eyelashes flutter.

“i was scared okay, my eyes are open now i swear.” you say jokingly, you two laughing and going to hug each other.

you smile at paige, knowing your feelings were valid.

"you know how long i've wanted to do that for?"

"you really know how to make a girl wait, ma." she says, making you laugh.

"that's my girl. you've got the prettiest smile ever ma."

you blush at her comment, knowing you can accept it as her officially flirting with you, and not making you feel crazy for thinking such.

my girl.. you could get used to that, don't you think?

HELLURRR!! i hope you guys enjoyeddd, my back hurts cause i was teeww locked in but i love you guys 🙂‍↕️

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #wlw fiction #uconn wbb #wbb #wlw #moot babies ♡

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darnell-la · 1 day

Note

I can't stop thinking about how Logan would be like "yeah those boys are not enough for you you need a man like me to take care of you" pleeeese do a story based on that <3 Love you guys works btw

note: Logan Howlett is an eater.

———

Logan had originally come to y/n’s apartment to drop off dinner. Wade had told him she hadn’t been eating proper food because of her study hours, so he cooked and packed it, ready to foul her up.

When he arrived, he heard noises from the young woman’s room. Two voice. Hers and someone else’s. A man’s. A boy.

He held himself together, understanding that she was young and experimenting. At least she better be. She shouldn’t be dating right now. He won’t allow it.

The man went to turn around and leave, maybe come back in an hour, but he heard a moan. Her moan. “Fuck no,” the man said, changing his mind about experimenting after he heard her with another man.

“Y/n!” The man knocked on the door hard, making the two jump in the bed. “Fuck, that’s Logan — M-My friend’s friend. My friend. J-Just get dressed,” y/n got up quick as well as the boy.

“Goddamnit,” he cussed, angry that he didn’t get to finish after touching y/n for the longest to get her wet. “Can you just like shoo him away or somethin? I’m fucking hard,” the boy said.

“I can’t, he’s like family. And he wouldn’t leave anyway,” she said, making the boy roll her eyes. “Get him outta here or I ain’t comin’ back,” the boy said, making her roll her eyes, but she was also horny now. She needed something.

Y/n cracked the door, hoping to talk with Logan for a quick second before sending him off, but he pushed open the door, causing Y/n to fall back.

“You ain’t comin’ back. Get the fuck out,” Logan snapped at the boy. His attitude was unacceptable. Even his appearance in her room was unacceptable.

“Dude, get out of here — We just got-“ Before he could say anything, Logan grabbed the boy by his collar and pulled him out of her room. “Don’t come back, or you’ll regret it,”

Logan shut the door and then turned to look at y/n who was embarrassed. “Logan, I-“ she went to say but he cut her off. “You what? Fuck boys during your study time?”

“What!? No, I- I mean — Logan, why are you here?” She asked, trying to switch the conversation which made him chuckle. “To give you dinner that you never have time to eat. Now I see why,”

Y/n felt bad. Now Logan knew she didn’t show up on Friday nights because she was fucking some random boy.

“You ditch family for a boy that can’t respect you? Let alone, properly make you wet!?” The man asked, shocking y/n. “H-He does make me wet,” y/n said, not knowing why she would tell Logan that. She just felt defensive.

“Oh, really? You know I can smell ya, Bub. Right?” Logan asked the young lady as he placed her dinner down on a desk before walking towards her. “And you’re already all dried up,”

“Logan that’s- That’s very inappropriate,” she said as she backed up, the back of her legs hitting her bed. “Is it? Then I must be a nasty son of a bitch, because I smell for you every time I’m around you,”

Y/n didn’t know how that got her on her bed, spread open for him, but she was, legs spread and cunt leaking as he stuffed his face in between her legs.

“So fuckin’ tasty. Gotta lick that son of a bitch off of you,” Logan groaned onto her heat as her hands tangled in his hair. “Oh god, Logan,” y/n threw her head back as her bud swole.

“Sweetest pussy that lives, baby. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t stop eating at her. He lifted a hand up and used two fingers to push at her entrance until he could curl in the right spot.

“F-Fuck,” y/n cried, making him lean back to watch her as he finger fucked her cunt. “You like that?” Logan asked as she nodded, head still leaned back and eyes closed.

“Yeah? Gonna start callin’ me instead of the boys?” He asked her, making her nod quickly. “Yeah, these boys aren’t enough for you. You need a man like me to take care of you,”

Y/n whined as she grinned at his fingers, chasing her orgasm. She was close, and he had just started. He was definitely better than any boy she’d been with. He was even better than herself.

“Give it to me, baby — Cum on my face — Need my face drenched,” the man looked into the girl's eyes and began to cross and roll back.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me — Give it to your man,” Logan kitty licked her bud to give her a better sensation that Wii jot sent her over the edge with a loud moan.

Logan latched his lips around her lips as he continued fingering her, humming into her cunt to get this amazing feeling in.

She tried to push the man off and close her legs, but he kept slapping her hands away and speeding her legs further with his free hand.

“G-God, Logan,” y/n cried out, feeling a bit embarrassed, and he felt it. He slightly loved the idea of her being shy from now on. The animal in him loved the look of a deer in headlights.

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #james howlett smut #logan howlet smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett xmen #wolverin smut #wolverine smut #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman #dom!logan howlett #dom!james howlett #dom!wolverine #x men smut

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itneverendshere · 2 days

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If you ever heard the song “Insecure” by Jazmine Sullivan, I was wondering if you could read a fic with rafe about that

it’s Like toxic!rafe and reader

insecure - bsf!toxic!rafe x kook!reader

If someone asked you how it started, you couldn’t even tell them.

It was Rafe Cameron you were talking about.

The guy was a walking red flag, all swagger, all ego, and too much money for his own good. He had the type of face that made you forgive him even when you didn’t want to. And trust, you'd tried to not want to. But that never worked out, obviously.

It’s not like you thought you could change him or whatever. You were not one of those girls. You just...thought you’d be different. Special. Maybe you got a little caught up in that fairy tale bullshit sometimes. Like, maybe if you were the one who held his attention long enough, maybe he’d stop messing around and actually be serious.

Actually see you.

Spoiler alert: That’s not how it worked

You learned that real quick with Rafe.

It wasn’t even two months in before you found some girl's scrunchie in his Jeep.

You were leaving the club, both tipsy, and you slid into the passenger seat when you spotted it in the back. You know how girls leave stuff behind like it’s a game? Like it’s their way of marking territory? That scrunchie was practically a neon sign that read, "I was here."

You picked it up, twirled it around your finger, and waited for him to notice.

He didn’t.

“What's this?” You finally asked, not even looking at him, just staring at that stupid pink scrunchie like it had all the answers you needed.

Rafe glanced over at it for half a second before shrugging, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Dunno. Probably Sarah’s.”

Sarah Cameron, his sister, the golden girl of the family. His excuse every time something came up.

“It’s not Sarah’s.” You weren't buying it. You knew that girl’s style inside and out, and there’s no way in hell she’d be caught dead wearing something this basic. You tossed it into the backseat, feeling your blood boil.

Of course he’d still treat you like shit, why care about a lifelong friendship, right?

Rafe rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have the decency to act like he cared that you were pissed.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice dripping with that condescension that always made you feel stupid for caring. “It’s just a fucking scrunchie.”

But it wasn’t. Not to you.

See, the thing with Rafe is, he never said he was yours. You never had some grand conversation about exclusivity, about titles, none of that. But that’s how it was with him. He’d show up at your door, flash that killer smile, and you’d forget every reason why he wasn’t good for you.

And yet, there was this constant feeling in your chest.

Tight, twisted, like a knot you couldn’t untangle.

It wasn’t just the girls or the scrunchies or the way he’d disappear for days, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and half-assed explanations. It was you. How you felt around him. You were constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if you were enough, if you were what he wanted. Things were so different before.

If you were even on his radar when you weren't right in front of him. And that feeling, that deep, gnawing insecurity? It was starting to mess with your head.

A week after the scrunchie incident, you found yourself at another one of those parties on Figure Eight. The kind where we Kooks pretend we're so much better than everyone else but still drink cheap beer out of red solo cups. It was the usual crowd—Topper, Kelce, a few other guys you barely knew, and, of course, Rafe.

You were wearing this black mini dress you knew he liked, the one that hugged your body in all the right places. You wanted to feel good tonight, like you could make him see you the way you needed him to. It was pathetic, but you thought if you played your cards right, maybe you'd get more than just half-hearted attention.

But then, halfway through the night, you saw her.

This girl—some random pogue you'd never seen before—leaning against the bar, laughing at something Rafe was saying. And it wasn’t just that he was talking to her. No, it was the way he was looking at her. That look he used to give you when you first started whatever this was between you two.

Like she was the most interesting thing in the room. Like she was the only thing. Even if she was wearing that cheap, threadbare tank top and worn-out jean shorts. The kind of clothes that screamed she probably worked at some surf shop or waited tables just to get by. And here Rafe was, cozying up to her like she was something special. Like she wasn’t just another girl he’d forget about tomorrow. Making yourself compare to someone like her.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, your palms sweaty as you watched them. You could feel your heart sinking, your gut screaming at you to just leave. But you didn’t. You just stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, watching him slide his hand up the back of her arm, a move so smooth, so practiced, it made you feel sick.

You hated this. Hated yourself. Hated that you let him have this kind of power over you.

Your mind did that annoying thing where it flashed back to the first time you slept with him. Like it wanted to torture you with every little detail of how you got here. You’d both been drunk, of course. But not blackout drunk—just the kind of buzzed where everything feels a little too easy, a little too warm.

You’d known Rafe forever, been best friends since you were kids. He was practically a part of you, or at least, he used to be. You trusted him, which is why when he showed up at your place that night, laughing about something stupid, you didn’t think twice when he crashed on your couch.

Only he didn’t stay on the couch.

You remember how he looked at you from across the room, that cocky smile he always wore, but softer somehow. Like he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make a move. He’d leaned in, brushed his hand against your leg—casual, but not really. Your heart had pounded in your chest, but you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t want to stop him.

And when he kissed you? You were done for. All those years of being “just friends” went right out the window. It was like all the tension between you, all the unspoken stuff, just exploded. You were in his lap before you even realized what was happening, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that it was just this one-time thing, a moment of weakness.

But Rafe… he knew how to get to you.

He made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered, even though you weren’t. You were just there, convenient. But at the time? You didn’t see it like that. You thought maybe this would change everything. That maybe the Rafe you’d grown up with was still in there somewhere, buried under all the coke, the girls, the chaos.

You were wrong.

It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even blame the girl. She probably had no idea who Rafe really was. She just saw the guy with the money, the smile, the charm.

Your throat tightened as he leaned in, saying something that made her laugh again. That same laugh he’d once pulled out of you. God, how could you be so stupid? You knew what he was. Hell, you’d known for years. But still, you’d let yourself get wrapped up in him, like maybe you’d be the exception. Like maybe you’d matter.

But you didn’t. You were just another girl he’d sweet-talk, mess with, and then forget about the second something new and shiny came along.

Topper came up beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. “You good?”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the scene in front of you and forcing a smile. “Yeah, totally. Just need another drink.” Your voice was light, casual, but inside, you were falling apart.

He gave you a weird look, but shrugged it off.

Guess everyone knew how you felt about Rafe. You weren't exactly subtle about it.

You downed another vodka soda, the burn doing nothing to numb the ache in your chest, and made a beeline for the back of the house.

You needed air. You needed to breathe.

You barely made it past the kitchen before you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. You turned, expecting it to be some random guy, but no—it was Rafe. His grip was tight, a little too tight, and you could see the annoyance in his eyes.

“You’re leaving already?”

Rafe’s grip on your wrist was too tight, but it wasn’t like that surprised you anymore. It was always like this with him—one second, things were fine, and the next, you were stuck in this same stupid cycle of feeling small and stupid for caring.

“I just need some air,” you muttered, trying to pull away, but of course, he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked across your face like he was trying to figure out if you were actually upset or just being “dramatic,” which, spoiler alert, you weren’t.

“You’re not seriously mad about that girl, right?” His voice dripped with amusement, like your feelings were some kind of joke to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice like that was supposed to make you feel better. “It’s not that deep.”

It's hard to remember this used to be your best friend, before you two started whatever this game was and he decided you just weren't that girl to him anymore, just another body he could call up when he needed to get laid.

You stared at him, mouth dry, trying to figure out why you were even still standing here.

“Really?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Because it kinda feels like it is.” You finally yanked your wrist free, stepping back just enough to get some space. “Do you even care? Like, do you even care that you’re making me feel like this?” You hated how your voice cracked, how vulnerable you sounded.

“We’ve just having fun,” Rafe just stared at you like you were overreacting. “I don’t get what the big deal is. Why are you always making this such a thing?”

Fun. God, that word made your stomach turn.

Fun for who? You knew what he meant, but hearing it out loud still stung. You’d been holding onto this hope, this ridiculous idea that maybe you were different, maybe he cared more. But it was so clear now. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even close.

“It’s a thing because it is a thing,” you said, voice shaky but steady enough. “I can’t just turn off my feelings like you do, Rafe. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when I see you flirting with other girls like I don’t exist.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re making this complicated. I never said we were serious. You knew what this was from the start.”

And there it was.

The slap of reality you’d been avoiding for way too long. He never said you were his, never promised you anything more than what he gave—a few nights here and there, some attention when it was convenient for him, but nothing real.

And you knew that. But it didn’t stop you from wanting more.

“But you still keep me around, don’t you?” you said quietly, mostly talking to yourself at this point. “You keep me close when it’s easy, when it’s fun for you. And I let you.”

God, that hurt to admit out loud. You let him make you feel like this. Over and over.

Rafe just stood there, completely unfazed. Like this was no big deal. He shrugged, and it made you want to scream. “If you’re so unhappy, then just leave.”

You stared at him, feeling your heart twist in your chest. How did it always come back to this? Him pushing you away like you didn’t mean anything. Like you weren’t standing right here, hurting. You searched his face for something—anything—that showed he actually gave a damn.

But there was nothing.

“Yeah,” you whispered, throat tight. “Maybe I should.”

Rafe blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. The moment you said “maybe I should,” it was like the words didn’t even register with him. He let out this half-laugh, half-scoff, eyebrows raised. “Wait—what? You’re not actually serious right now.”

You just stood there, trying to hold onto the last shred of whatever self-respect you had left, but his reaction made you feel like you were the crazy one. Like you weren’t the one who’d been dragged through the emotional wringer for months.

“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible, but inside? You were shaking. “I’m done.”

He shook his head, like you were talking nonsense. “C’mon, stop. You always say shit like this when you’re mad. You’ll cool off in a couple hours. You’re just… overreacting. Again.”

That word—overreacting—was like gasoline on the fire burning inside you.

“I’m not overreacting. I’m tired.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of all the times you’d let him off the hook. “I’m tired of feeling like an idiot every time I care about you. Every time I think we might actually be something.”

He took a step closer, and you could smell the beer and expensive cologne clinging to him. “We are something,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine, like he believed it. “We have fun. You’re acting like I’m out here trying to hurt you or somethin'.”

“You don’t think you’re hurting me because you never even think about me in the first place,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You never even consider how any of this makes me feel, and that’s the problem. You don’t care.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back like you half-expected him to. Instead, he just stared at you, confusion all over his face, like this was the first time he’d ever heard any of this.

“So what, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the concept of you actually walking away from him didn’t make any sense. “You’re not serious. You won’t actually leave.”

Your heart twisted at that—at how confident he was that you’d stay. That no matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many girls there were, or how many times he ghosted you, you’d always be right there, waiting. Because you always were. All your life.

He was so sure of it.

You felt your hands shake, and you hated that he still had that power over you. That even now, standing here in this stupid hallway at some stupid party, your heart was still fighting your brain, still wanting to hold onto him just a little bit longer.

But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Yeah, Rafe. I’m leaving.” The words came out firm, stronger than you even thought you were capable of right now. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Or maybe it was just the realization that he didn’t have you as locked down as he thought. “You’re really gonna walk away from this?” He gestured between the two of you, as if whatever this was had been so good, so untouchable. “Don’t be stupid.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You think I’m the one being stupid? You’ve taken me for granted this whole time, and I was dumb enough to let you."

He just stood there, silent, looking like he didn’t even know how to answer. Because he didn’t. He never actually thought you’d go. He never thought you’d call him on his shit and mean it.

But you did. And now he was realizing it.

Without waiting for him to say another word, you turned and walked away, feeling like you could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

You barely made it a few steps before you heard him call after you. “Wait, hold on!”

You kept walking, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. You knew if you stopped, if you even looked back at him, you’d get sucked right back in. But of course, Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easy.

“Wait!” His voice was closer now, and before you could pick up the pace, he grabbed your arm—not harshly this time, just enough to make you stop. “Come on, don’t just walk away.”

You sighed, shutting your eyes for a second before turning around. “What, Rafe? What do you want me to say?” You were so exhausted from this, from him, from the constant back and forth. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

He let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to rein it in. “Can we just… talk about this? You’re pissed right now, and I get it, but you can’t just leave like this.”

“I can leave,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “That’s literally what I’m doing."

He exhaled sharply, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re really just gonna throw everything away? After all this time?”

You stared at him, heart pounding in your chest. “What exactly am I throwing away? Huh? What have we even been lately? ’Cause from where I’m standing, all I’ve been doing is waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth more than just a random hookup whenever you feel like it.”

He winced at that, and for a second, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d get it. Maybe this would be the moment where he actually realized how badly he’d been screwing up. But instead, he went for the same excuse he always did.

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, like that would erase everything. “You know I care about you, okay? We’ve known each other forever. You’re… important to me.”

“Important to you?” You laughed, but it wasn’t even close to funny. “If this is how you treat people who are ‘important’ to you, then I don’t even wanna know how you treat people who aren’t. Oh wait, I do know."

Rafe sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. But…Can we just, like, think about it for a second? Talk about it?”

You shook your head, feeling the frustration build again. “What is there to talk about? You only wanna have this conversation now because I’m actually leaving. You never wanted to talk about it before.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No, Rafe. You think I haven’t tried to bring this up? Every time I tell you how I feel, you brush me off. I’ve been bending over backwards, trying to make this work, and all I’ve gotten in return is you treating me like I’m an afterthought.”

Rafe frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not true. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Because I’m walking away,” you shot back. “That’s the only reason you care right now—because you don’t wanna lose control. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You never actually thought I’d leave.”

He didn’t say anything, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “We used to be best friends. I knew you better than anyone, and you knew me. But I don’t even recognize you anymore. And honestly? I don’t recognize me when I’m around you either.” Your voice softened, "I deserve better than this. And you know it.”

For a second, he just stood there, looking at you like he was processing everything. His face wasn’t smug or arrogant anymore. He actually looked… lost. Maybe even scared. It was the first time you’d seen him drop the act in a long time, and for a split second, you felt that pull again—the one that always made you want to fix things, to make it better, to stay.

But you couldn’t do it this time. You couldn’t keep saving him at the expense of yourself.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “You’re… you’re one of the only people who actually gets me. I don’t wanna lose that.”

That hit you right in the gut, because deep down, you didn’t wanna lose him either. He was right—you did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t change what he’d been putting you through. And just because he was scared of losing you didn’t mean he was ready to treat you the way you deserved to be treated.

“I don’t wanna lose you either,” you admitted, “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl you turn to when it’s convenient for you.”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the ground like he didn’t know what to say. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was finally realizing how badly he’d screwed this up.

You sighed, stepping back. “Look, I hope you figure your shit out. I really do. But I’m not sticking around to wait for that.”

You’d barely taken two steps when you heard him again, this time his voice quieter, almost desperate. “Wait—please. Just… don’t go.”

You paused, but you didn’t turn around. You were trying so hard to keep it together, to not let him see how badly this was wrecking you. Then he dropped the bomb.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sober.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned back around, eyes wide. “What?”

He looked at you like he was begging you to understand, to stay. “I’m serious. Since I stopped using…you’re the only thing that’s been helping me hold it together. You leaving—it’s gonna fuck me up. You know that.”

Your heart twisted, hard. Of course he’d pull this now. You stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I’m not lying,” He insisted, taking a step closer. “I swear. I’m trying to do better. You’re the reason I haven’t gone back to that shit. You’ve always been the one to pull me out of it, and if you leave—”

“Stop,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re really trying to put this on me?” Your voice was rising, and you didn’t even care if people inside the party heard you. “You’re trying to make me responsible for you staying clean? Do you realize how fucked up that is?”

Rafe flinched, his expression shifting from desperate to defensive. “I’m just saying it how it is. You’ve helped me more than anyone else. You know that.”

“No,” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I’m not carrying that weight for you. That’s not fair, and you know it.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done. “You can’t just dump your problems on me and expect me to fix them. I’m not your therapist, and I’m definitely not your savior.” Your chest was heaving now, all the anger and hurt that had been building up for months finally spilling over. “You don’t get to use your sobriety as a leash to keep me here.”

His face fell at that, and for a split second, you saw a flash of guilt. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he said, though even he sounded unsure of his words now. “I just… I don’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t know what to do because you’ve never had to actually deal with the consequences of your actions,” you fired back. “You’ve always just said whatever you needed to say to keep people around. To keep me around.”

Rafe looked at you like he wanted to fight back, but the fight wasn’t there. Not this time. “That’s not what this is,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m glad you’re sober. I really am. But that’s not my responsibility. It never should’ve been.” You paused, feeling every word you were about to say. “If staying clean depends on me staying in your life, then you haven’t actually changed. You’ve just found a new addiction.”

He stared at you, and for the first time, he didn’t have a response. No cocky smirk, no empty promises. Just silence.

“I’m not gonna be your crutch anymore,” you said softly, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, painful sadness. “You need to get better for you, not for me. And if you can’t do that… then this was never gonna work anyway.”

Rafe’s shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeat in his eyes, like he was finally realizing that no matter what he said, this time you weren’t coming back.

“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

You blinked back the tears that were starting to sting your eyes. “You’ll figure it out."

His on his knees before you realized. Literally.

Your eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Rafe, what the hell are you doing?”

He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just staring at the floor, hands running through his hair like he was about to lose it. “Please don’t leave. I’m begging you. I—I can’t… I don’t know what to do without you.”

You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Because maybe he had. What was this? You felt like you were watching some movie, except it was your life, and it wasn’t dramatic or romantic or whatever he thought it was. It was just… sad. And kind of terrifying.

“Get up.” Your voice wasn’t even loud—it was flat, emotionless. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore. “Rafe, seriously. Get the fuck up.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re all I’ve ever had, okay? Since we were kids, you’ve been the only person who’s ever stuck with me. Everyone else leaves. Everyone. But not you. You’ve always been there, no matter how much I’ve messed up.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut because, deep down, they were true. You had always been there. Through everything. The good, the bad, and the absolute worst. And maybe that’s why it hurt so damn much now—because he’d taken that loyalty, that friendship, and twisted it into something ugly and unrecognizable.

“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I seriously can’t believe you right now.” You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. “You think this is gonna fix everything? You think getting on your knees and saying some bullshit is gonna make me forget all the times you hurt me?"

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy, and it almost made your heart break. Almost. But you weren't going to fall for it anymore. “I didn’t mean to take you for granted. I just—I never thought you’d actually leave. You never left before.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” you snapped, “You always thought I’d stay, no matter how bad you treated me. You counted on it."

“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking. “I know I fucked up. But I’ll do anything to fix it. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please, just don’t go.”

You stared at him, the guy you’d known since forever, the one you’d stuck by when no one else did. The one you thought you could save, even though now you realized you couldn’t even save yourself when you were with him.

But this? Him on his knees? This wasn’t him fixing anything. This was him panicking, terrified that the one thing he’d taken for granted all these years was slipping away.

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to keep you alive. That’s on you. I’ve been there for you since we were six, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where that’s gotten us.”

His eyes were pleading, desperate, but you knew that if you stayed, this would keep happening. He would hurt you again, and you’d forgive him.

Because that’s what you did. That’s what you’d always done.

“I can’t keep being your safety net,” you whispered, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “You have to figure out who you are without me always picking up the pieces.”

He shook his head. “But I don’t know how.”

And that was the saddest part of all. He didn’t know how. He had no idea who he was without you constantly there to catch him when he fell. And you were tired of being the one holding him up while he pulled you down.

You took a deep breath, looking down at him—this broken, scared version of Rafe you never wanted to see.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “but this? This isn’t love. This isn’t healthy. This is you being afraid of losing control. And I’m not gonna let you use me to keep your shit together anymore.”

His eyes filled with tears, and for a second, your heart ached. Because yeah, you loved him once. Maybe you still did in some messed-up way. But love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.

“I hope you get better,” you said, taking a step back. “I really do. But I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

And for the first time in your life, you were the one to walk away.

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