#and how difficult it is for me to draw at all and then share my art online and my friend told me its okay just share it with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ncteez · 9 months

Text

Drippin’ [Dream ‘00 line]

“It's too late to run away, you started this game first.”

It was a joke, you swear. Sharing something like that with your group of horny man-friends was definitely a recipe for disaster. That one little tweet sets off a string of events that prevents you from pretending that you wouldn’t fuck your friends. Because you would, and they know it. or the one where you’re considered a tease with the shit you share privately online, and they’re just about fed up with the way you act innocent and uninterested in what they’re packing. ― this fic is based around this tweet.

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give ‘00 line a boner.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 16.2k

PAIRING― ‘00 line x afab reader

CONTENT― birthday sex, orgy (?), comedy, use of a camera

WARNING ― mild dub-con, jaemin kinda fruity, full bladder/squirting ―this fic is not entirely inclusive like my others because it’s written for someone specific. reader can be lifted up by the members, when she blushes it is visible to them but colors still aren’t used to describe it, she has huge tits too. don’t like it, don’t read it.

NOTE― this is my birthday gift to @neopuppy! I hope it scratches somewhere in your brain but I also hope this means you’re aware of how much I love and appreciate you!! I am happy to have met you and i just need you to know that you’re definitely stuck with me at this point ♡ so, happy birthday to jeno’s real life gf!!! he’s a lucky dude fr. ― not proof read tho lmao

smut tags under cut::

smut tags :: pussy eating, eager haechan, neglected renjun, confident jeno, (un)solicited dick pics, huge cock jeno and renjun, recording of sexual acts, masturbation, tongue fucking, dirty talk, finger fucking, overstimulation, tit fondling, actual fucking, (forced) full bladder, squirting, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, cum stuffing, cum dump reader, bunch of horny guys + one competitive horny guy

Scrolling on twitter is a normal part of your night especially when you’re bored. Your birthday is coming up and there’s not really anything planned. Aside from the spamming of messages from family and friends demanding to know what you want, or what you’d like to do, it feels like it’s just going to be a normal day rather than a celebration of your life.

No plans. You kind of just want to enjoy the day alone, relaxing, watching stupid videos, and maybe going for a coffee.

Unknowing to you though, your future plan is slightly skewed when you run across a specific tweet. You share it as a joke, just like any other thing you’ve shared. Straight into the circle it goes, side eye emoji and all as if to imply something yet again, because you’re good at that apparently. Teasing, as Haechan would call it.

To you, retweeting it with the side-eye emoji directly into the circle is normal and not asking for it to be considered by your friends. As much as you’d love to lie to yourself and believe that they’re down to earth, they’re really really not.

It’s not like you actively want to fuck your friends, but it’s also not like you wouldn’t. With all of the sexuality you all share online, it’s kind of difficult to not think about them inappropriately on some days. There was once a tweet that Jeno shared with absolutely no context involving some manga panel drawing of a man on a leash with his cute, unassuming girl standing in front of him.

You hate to say that sometimes the images they share makes you think pretty hard. Learning their kinks, their sexual interests, and wondering if they’ve ever gotten to actually partake in them before. It’s a strange kind of feeling to think about your friends when these types of images pop up. The feeling is definitely arousal, but it’s kind of like a guilty arousal?

After all, your friends may be constantly sharing their sex lives and blatantly liking all of the porn on twitter that they get off to, but it doesn’t mean they’d want to get you off.

The funniest part about it is that you truly do view the circle tweets far differently compared to your group of friends. You, thinking they share stuff to show off, to be funny, or just to be a typical horny man. Then you have your friends and how they view it.

Some of the tweets are intentionally for you to see, for you to get off to. Some are blatantly shared in the heat of the moment as one of them imagines you performing in the content. It’s a game to them really, to see which one will break you first. They love it for the most part, how you pretend you don’t notice. How you play dumb, even when they’re sharing images and videos of two people that could resemble you and said friend if you squint. It’s been this way for years.

The entire friend group has spoken about you in their own group chat before. They’ve fantasized together about you through text and they’ve even discussed how there’s no way you don’t know what they’re doing. Time and time again you prove them wrong. So fucking aloof even when one of them blatantly makes a suggestion straight to your face.

Jokes can only be funny for so long before it starts to be serious.

To Jeno, it’s flooring to see you just a day after you liked one of his nastiest tweets, knowing you saw it, you probably watched the video too all while parading around like it didn’t get you wet or something. For Renjun, he finds it cute that you’re so different online. He almost feels lucky to be able to see that side of you.

Haechan and Jaemin are the two in the group who will blatantly try to fluster you face to face. You both love and hate it, because sometimes you can’t tell if they’re being serious or not with you. The constant sarcastic and cocky smirks tend to make you lean more towards the fact that they must be joking.

Either way, that tweet is nothing more than a funny joke to you. Since it was referring to a birthday it really is probably a crime to like, not share it. So, you did.

Haechan was the first to read it, instantly screenshotting it and sending it in the secret group chat with a question mark.

Haechan: ??

Haechan: she’s doing it again

Jeno: she’s too dumb to actually follow through with it though

Jaemin: me first :)

Haechan: shut the fuck up jaemin

Renjun: it’s just a meme

Haechan: a meme about eating her out for her birthday

Haechan: that she specifically shared to her circle

Haechan: with. the. eyeball. emoji.

Jeno: he’s got a point.

Renjun: well

Jaemin: it would be rude if she declined a birthday gift too y’know

Haechan: do you guys think she would let us?

Renjun: um

Jeno: at some point she’s gonna have to learn that sharing all of this stuff with us is going to end in her getting fucked.

Haechan: yeah, by me specifically

Jeno: you’d be lucky if she even thought of you when she shared that tweet

Haechan: It's gonna be so funny when you hear her moan my name, you gonna get mad?

Jeno: fuck around and find out.

Jaemin: really though

Jaemin: we should just go for it this time…….

Jaemin: bet she would love it

Renjun: lol…count me in too

The last thing you expected to be waking up to on your birthday was a fucking birthday party.

You wake to the sound of your front door opening, frantic footsteps, and then your bedroom door swinging open. Before you can even scream out of the assumption that it’s a fucking break in, Haechan is quite literally pouncing on you, shoving his face into the crook of your neck with muffled words of “wake up, baby.”

You’re definitely awake.

“How the fuck did you guys get into my house?!” You shout with a raspy, sleep filled voice, trying to focus on the four faces staring back at you and landing a glare at Renjun specifically, standing meekly at your bedroom door.

He shoots an uncharacteristic smirk at you before raising his keys and dangling them at you. Of course you forgot that he had a key. He’s the only person outside of your family who has a key and it was strictly from when he helped you move in. You forgot to get it back from him all those years ago.

“Might want to change your locks.” Haechan laughs against your neck, lying his body weight against you.

“What time is it?” You say, relieved now that your place isn’t being broken into, but still trying to shove Haechan off of you.

He fights to stay in place, grabbing you in a bear hug, holding your arms down at your side, and not letting you go.

“It’s noon.” Jeno calls out from the other side of your room in a nonchalant voice, letting his eyes search around before he opens one of your drawers. “What’s in here?”

You, again, try to shake Haechan from you as you go into panic mode. What kind of joke is this? Fucking room raiders?

“Stop looking through my stuff!” You shout, glaring at Jeno, who definitely goes through your drawers now that he knows you have something to hide.

“Haechan, hold her down,” Jeno laughs, opening another drawer, and then another, before coming to your bedside and looking at you. “What’s in this one?”

Actual panic now.

Before you can even get the words out, Jeno is opening the drawer and letting out a breathy chuckle.

“Guys, look.” He laughs, glancing over at you before pulling one of the toys out. “You get off with this?”

Jaemin comes over, looking into the drawer with two other toys that Jeno hasn’t yet pulled from their place. Renjun continues to watch, or stalk, really.

“Did you wash them?” Jeno asks, waving the dildo in front of your face before bopping you on the nose with it.

“Of course I fucking washed them!” You continue to glare, feeling Haechan squeeze you tighter to prevent you from moving.

“Shame,” Haechan laughs at you, and then he very slowly lightens his grip on you. “Wanted to know what you smell like.” He says in a single breath, looking between you and the dildo, in deep thought. You stare at him before taking advantage of his loosening grip and rolling him off of you in one swift motion.

You ignore the “oomf” sound Haechan makes when his head hits your headboard, and instantly rip the dildo from Jeno’s hands before throwing it back into the drawer and nearly slamming Jaemin’s fingers shut in it.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” You narrow your eyes as you look at each of them. You feel annoyed, and quite frankly, a little pissed because this is kind of crossing a line you didn’t even know you had.

“It’s your birthday,” Renjun smiles, moving himself from the door and finally coming into your room. “You’re not seriously planning to just, like, stay home all day are you?”

“Yeah, actually. I am.” You grouch, rolling your eyes as you sit up and against your headboard with crossed arms.

“That’s too bad, we’ve got a whole day planned for you.” Jeno says, seating himself next to you and softening his voice. “So get up and go get dressed.”

If it weren’t for the fact that all four men are practically holding you hostage right now, you’d kick them out and enjoy your birthday as you planned it. Why is this year so fucking different? Why are they all over you like this? Poking fun at your toys, Haechan being weird and gross about it?

As you get dressed, they make it incredibly obvious that there’s a shift in the air. You feel like prey, four pairs of eyes struggling to allow you to dress yourself without them in the room. You do eventually get them out though, so you can at least do as they say.

When you open the door for them again, they’re all right there. Jeno, front and fucking center with his dopey smile that seems more menacing today than the usual, soft smile.

You feel cornered in your own home, by the only people you trust, and you hate to say that it’s kind of getting to you in an uncomfortable way. It’s surprising to admit that you kind of like the uncomfortable feeling they’re giving to you right now.

The sheer amount of attention on you is overwhelming, and you wonder when they’ll let you in on this joke.

The second you step into Jeno’s car, then tension dies down a little bit and the excitement rises. You haven’t done anything for your birthday in years so it’s kind of nice to think that your friends would plan something for you, and not being alone in your apartment with them solidified that they’re not about to eat you alive with a side of A1 steak sauce like you originally thought.

As the drive starts and continues, you think about the dynamic between you and your friends. From how you met to how you became the group you are now. You realize that for the past few years, most interactions with them have felt more intense than they used to. Still, you’re a believer that women can be friends with men without the weird sexual tension ruining it.

Until you keep thinking. Piling up all of the sexual jokes and implications they’ve made at you up until this morning.

One time, Jaemin took a photo with you, sent it in the group chat and said “she’s giving out blowjobs for $5 if anyone wants one.” and you’d be lying if you didn’t receive three cash app notifications of five dollars.

Another time Jeno blatantly gave you a popsicle and told you to show him how deep you can take it in your mouth before laughing and shoving the popsicle deeper when you reached your limit. And god, don’t even get started on Haechan, that motherfucker has blatantly adjusted his length in front of you after staring at your chest for an entire conversation.

Renjun is another story. The shy one who does a shit job at hiding that he absolutely has whore thoughts. You see it. That $5 donation for a blowjob didn’t go unnoticed, nor did his approval of you accidentally liking one of the porn videos deep in his retweets.

Still, you prefer to think that you wave off the jokes face to face despite how difficult it’s become to dodge said jokes.

You turn to look at Jeno for a moment, noting his calm face as he drives, then you turn slightly to see the three in the back seat on their phones. Jeno’s phone is buzzing at lightning speed, and the boys in the back are typing miles per minute.

You narrow your eyes.

“What are you guys planning?”

Jeno flashes a smile at you.

“It’s a surprise, don’t try and ruin it for yourself.” He smiles wider at the implication that you really do always ruin this type of thing by pretending you don’t want it. That you don’t want him.

You continue to glare at them, one at a time, and each of them just beams at you before you cross your arms and slump yourself back against the seat.

“Better not be anything weird.” You grumble.

“Define weird.” Jeno comments before moving his hand from the steering wheel and lying it against your leg. When you stiffen up against him, he rubs a gentle circle against the flesh of your thigh before continuing. “Relax, we already know you’re a freak.”

You whip your head around at the laughter, feeling flustered at how they’re not keeping the circle in the circle. Except, they are. It’s just being voiced now, and your leg is being caressed at the same damn time.

“My favorite was when she shared that video of the girl getting her head pulled back by the hair, and dude spit in her face,” Jaemin says with a shrug, eyes still glued to his phone. “Went straight to the bookmarks.”

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and when you go to protest, Haechan jumps in.

“What about the video where the girl took it in every hole? She even had a dildo because apparently she just wasn’t full enough.” He ticks his tongue when he says it, examining the way you shift in your seat.

“Oh god, I remember that one. I didn’t think you’d be into that–” Renjun laughs, leaning forward between the front and passenger seat. “But you are into that, aren’t you?” He lowers his voice when he asks you.

You shift again, and note only slightly the way Jeno also shifts similar to the way you do at those words.

“It’s just a video–” You try to defend, but Jeno speaks up and cuts you off.

“Did you get off to it?” He asks blatantly, turning the car onto a wide street and seemingly keeping his eyes on the road.

There’s nothing but silence in the car and all four of them wait for your answer, but it never comes.

“So you did.” Renjun chuckles, leaning himself back to the seat and unlocking his phone again.

You’re kind of at a loss for words at this moment as you stare directly out of your window and try to avoid continuing the conversation. You hate the way your body is reacting to the way they’re talking to you. Of course you got off to the video. Of course you’re into that. It just looks bad when you’re sitting in a car full of men with cocks that seemingly want to talk about how much you’re into it.

Implications.

And god, the implication gets worse when you realize where Jeno has been driving this whole time. You can’t even protest either.

“Let’s get our girl some better toys to have fun with.” Jeno comments as he stops the car in the parking lot, turning to look at you and then at his friends as if this is the most normal birthday outing in the world.

“Your girl?” You ask, side eyeing Jeno and then turning your entire body to look at the other three men in the car.

Suddenly, it feels like an intro to some porn video. Where the poor lonely woman is being eaten alive with eyes in a public space before it pans to her quite literally drowning in a bukakke scene.

“Just for today, relax.” Jaemin smiles his stupid smile, shoving Haechan at the door of the car as if to force him to open it, and he does. “Besides, the toys you had seemed boring.” He laughs again, before sliding out of the car as well.

So, here you are now, walking into an adult store with four very attractive men, unsure as to why you’re even agreeing to let them bring you here. You don’t know what to do with yourself seeing as you’ve only ever bought toys online.

Jeno is the first to drag you away with him as the others disperse around the store. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel awkward, or like today isn’t entirely charged by sexual energy. Unfortunately, Jeno amplifies it with a casual voice and a slouched, relaxed posture as he snakes an arm around your waist and lifts your chin with his thumb so that you look directly at what he’s looking at.

He barely lets you react to the way he’s being somewhat intimate with you, ushering any protest you could possibly have into a little insecure space in your brain. One that tells you that, based on how he’s acting, he would probably call you stupid if you said he was acting weird.

Jeno knows damn well though, that he’s touching you right now more than he ever has. Brief hugs and brushes of the body are normal and expected, but this? This is intentionally not normal. He knows you’re picking up on the differences, and actively chooses to let you stew over it. He can see the confusion in your eyes and plays it off as if, yeah, this is normal and you’d make it weird if you decided to say it’s not. You’d be the one making it awkward, not him.

“How do you feel about that?” He asks, eyes staring straight at an item hanging on the wall and pretending he doesn’t feel the way you let him touch you in the way a boyfriend should.

“What? The vibrating panties?” You ask, looking at the item directly next to it.

“Oh,” He chuckles at you, releasing your chin and pulling down the product with ease. “You’re looking at these?” He adds, keeping his other arm around your waist and pulling you right up against his side as he flips the box over and reads it.

“Eight settings. Three pairs of panties are included–” He nods with a pleased face. “What are you looking at these for?”

You looked at them because it’s what you thought he was looking at too.

“You gonna wear them to work? Staying wet all day in them?” He smiles, saying these words as if it’s not sexual at all. “I bet you’d wear them in front of me too. Wouldn’t even tell me how you’re getting off, would you?”

He loves the way you react when you’re flustered, looking away from him but not quite denying it or pulling from his grasp.

“Dirty. I’ll buy them for you. ” He says, keeping hold of the box and reaching for the actual item he was originally looking at. “What about this?”

You feel like your body is on fire with this one sided conversation. Honestly, your mind is still thinking about what would happen if you wore these panties to work. What would happen if you did wear them when hanging out with him? Surely he’d know, it’s not like you’re capable of hiding your pleasure.

Still, you try to remain calm. Rubbing your legs together briefly, you stare at the way he tangles a leash in his fingers all while still holding the box with the vibrating panties. His hands are big, and his fingers are long. The material of the leash appears to be flimsy but the collar he grabs just next to it appears to be much stiffer.

“A leash?” You ask, still not making eye contact but keeping your eyes on his hand and the way he holds all three items with ease.

“And a collar.” He adds, encouraging you to think about both items together, being used with him.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

Jeno smirks, knowing damn well you know what he’s into.

“You know exactly what you’re supposed to do with it.” He teases you, keeping hold of the toys and letting his eyes devour the way you buckle under every implication. He tunes in to the way your legs rub together, right here in front of him. God, you’re so cute with the way even the slightest implication seems to have you suffering.

In your head, you do know what to do with these items for him, but the confirmation of Jeno’s words have reality hitting you like a bag of bricks. Is he really implying that these toys are to be used with him?

And just as you try to mutter up a response, you can feel your arm being tugged at.

“Stop hogging her, dick.” Jaemin seethes through his teeth and narrowed eyes at Jeno, prying you away from him.

You look back at Jeno and his confident glare at you as you’re being pulled away. He seems slightly annoyed with Jaemin for taking you away just as the conversation was getting good but, overall proud of himself for making you think too hard. You practically see the confirmation in his hooded eyes when they trail down your body as you’re being pulled around the corner, up until he’s out of your view and you are forced to look at whatever the fuck Jaemin is trying to show you.

“Look at this.” Jaemin says in a much sweeter voice to you, grabbing a box and presenting it to you. “There’s a sample thing too, hold on–” He continues, reaching up and grabbing the presumed sample that states “FINGERS ONLY.”

“Go on, try it.” He smiles, eyes staring straight at your hands.

“You want me to test out a uh–”

“Pocket pussy.” He finishes for you, nodding his head and encouraging you to do it.

Reluctantly you do, sliding your fingers into the silicone hole. Weirdly enough, you’ve always wondered what the inside of a pocket pussy felt like and well, it’s about what you expected.

Jaemin’s intense eye contact on watching your fingers slide into that toy did not go unnoticed though. You can see the way they darken at the act in an instant. A once bright looking pervert now matching the word far too much to be comfortable doing this in front of him. If only you knew how he was imagining that this is how you touch yourself. Reluctantly at first and then sliding your fingers in deeper to feel everything it offers.

“Well?” He asks, feeling his length twitch in his pants at the image. Wondering how much prettier your fingers would look glistening in the arousal that would spill out of you while doing this. “Do you think yours feels better?”

“Wha–” You go to ask, pulling your fingers from the sample and shoving it back into his hands.

“You heard me,” He laughs as he drops the sample onto the floor and quickly picks it up before tossing it back onto the wrong shelf like an asshole. “Compare it. Give me something to work with here.”

You dead-pan stare at him, processing the fact that he’s literally asking you what your pussy feels like.

“It’s, um–” You stop yourself again, not avoiding Jaemin’s eye contact this time as his smile fades into something a bit more serious.

“Not as warm, right?” He asks, “not as wet?”

Then he leans in to the point that you feel his breath below your ear, blowing gently as he continues his string of questions.

“Not as tight–” He pulls back to look at you. “Hm?”

It’s insane how fast your little friend group seems to have switched on you. When you compare yesterday to today, the last thing you could imagine was Jaemin saying such a thing against your skin before pulling back, and looking at you with a face that seems to expect a genuine answer to his dirty questions.

You’ve never felt so….shy before yet, into it entirely. You just don’t know how to process it all happening at once, with multiple people. Jeno, now Jaemin?

You stare forward at him, cheeks warming up beyond belief as your fingers tingle from the recent silicone hole they fucked into. You think hard for a moment about all of the times you’ve plunged your fingers into yourself, comparing the feeling to the toy. You almost want to tell him that you’re definitely warmer, you’d definitely be wetter, and perhaps even tighter than that toy could ever offer him.

And just as you were about to become the pick me girl of his dreams, an angel wearing a dick-head costume (Haechan), appears much like Jaemin did before. He prevents you from furthering the conversation, but he does little to nothing to help the warmth you’re feeling between your legs.

“Stop being a freak,” Haechan stares at Jaemin, having heard the entire conversation and definitely liking where it was going, but also not wanting Jaemin to be the one to get you to break. “Come on, I have something a lot less weird to show you.”

Haechan drags you across the entire store before you can even protest, nearing the entrance. You almost want to get on your knees and thank him, assuming he’s walking you straight out the doors to safety before you realize he’s definitely not.

“Lace or latex?” He asks, grabbing two skimpy outfits he presumably placed on the end of a rack for easy finding when he wanted to show you.

“Lace.” You say without issue, still reeling from all of the other questions you’ve been asked within the past twenty minutes. Plus, clothing is much easier to discuss compared to things that fuck your friends, and things that fuck you.

“Hm,” He stares down the lace outfit on the hanger, knowing for a fact that your tits would look fucking immaculate in it. Surely they’d be bulging out of the top, plush and bouncing with each movement. “If we got this for you, would you actually wear it?”

At this point, the feeling in your gut may or may not be matching the energy they’re giving you. There’s a hint of flirtiness coming to your mind now as you think of how to respond. You’ve flirted with them plenty, so it comes easy this time when you manage to actually answer him.

“I guess,” You start, noting how his eyes light up. “I don’t see why not, because I do like lace.”

“Would you wear it for me though?” He corrects his question, proud of the way you look a bit confident now, not at all as flustered as you seemed when Jaemin had you back there finger fucking a sample toy.

“In front of you?” You ask, staring down the outfit and reaching out to feel the soft texture of the lace, trying to ignore the hefty price on the tag.

“Yeah? I expect to be the one to take it off of you.”

There goes your confidence. He’s so forward and you’re not sure if you can ever get used to such jarring comments toward you by the people you seem to be the closest to. They could talk to you like this all fucking day, and while you’d like it, your first instinct is to buckle, to hide.

“So quiet now. Why? Because I want to see you in this?” He smirks, rubbing his fingers in circles against the lace before hardening his expression.

“You can pretend that this isn’t happening all you want,” He narrows his eyes at you and the way you avoid his eye contact, taking a step forward and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I think you’ve gotten your fair share of teasing me online. I think it’s time you finally give it up.” He finishes his train of thought with a frustrated whisper when you pull away from him slightly.

It’s a lot of information to take in all at once. Jeno implying things, Jaemin asking about what’s between your legs, and now Haechan stating that he wants to see you in lace before sliding it off of you. It’s not entirely insane to be drawn in and then push yourself back. Really, it’s not. You can’t just let them in on the fact that you’re into it though. All of this, you’re so fucking into it.

“You thought I was teasing you?” You ask, finally making eye contact as you look him up and down, taking another step back. “Haechan, it’s just porn. None of it was because of you.”

He tics his tongue at your words, smirking and shaking his head.

“You’re going to stand there and pretend like you don’t think about it?” He tilts his head knowingly before shaking the lace outfit in front of you. “If we leave here today with this, you’re going to wear it for me.” he continues with a cheeky voice, “and i’ll make you feel so good when I take it off of you.”

And for some reason, you find yourself turning away from him and walking away. You can hear him mutter something at you as you create a bigger distance, and can’t help the smile on your face. Your cheeks are tingling, your body is tingling and there’s a type of confirmation happening right now, that all of those thoughts you’ve had about them before aren’t entirely one sided.

You find yourself in search of Renjun, the only normal motherfucker in this group. He hasn’t hunted you down within the aisles of toys, sex movies, or lube. He hasn’t pulled you away as if he’s a savior before forcing you to realize you fell into the grasp of another hunter. No, he’s normal. And he fills that role so well too, as you find him near the back of the store standing alone, looking at the most mundane and boring sex toys in the world. Dildos, just like what he saw being pulled out of your drawer this morning.

“Do you think this one is a good size?” He asks you offhandedly as you stand next to him with a sigh of relief. Almost like he could sense it was you without even checking for himself.

“Yeah, it’s a little big but–” You go to say, comfortably and confidently because he’s not being a weirdo.

“Have you ever taken something this big before?” He looks at you, glancing down to your thighs before smiling.

“Um, well-” You start, but he interrupts you again.

“It’s the same size as mine, you know.”

Anyway, fuck Renjun.

He’s just like the rest of them, except apparently he doesn’t hunt. He prefers to be hunted himself, he prefers you come to him. A wolf in sheep's clothing, perhaps.

The sexual innuendos and jokes are a bit overwhelming considering you’ve never been fucking attacked with them before. You really can’t lie to yourself though. As much as you pretend to be unnerved, you love the attention they’re giving you. Years worth of sexual things shared online seems to be making today feel like it was going to happen now or never. All of those stray thoughts you’ve had about each of them as you watched their shared porn and read their dirty words? They’re in the front of your mind right now.

Perhaps staying home all day today was a bad idea, because you find yourself genuinely enjoying the overwhelming tension in the air. You’re quite literally in a sex shop surrounded by friends who are implying they want sex from you.

Even if it’s all just a prank-birthday thing. You know, like how friends get each other dildos and sex merchandise for a laugh. You can’t help but stare down the bulk of items all four of them begin to pile onto the counter.

The vibrating panties, leashes, collars, lingerie, dildos, more vibrators, and lube. Not a single condom in sight, not a single pocket pussy either, implying that it can't be purchased because, well, you very well may be the pocket pussy.

The price goes from fifty dollars to a sum of over six hundred, and none other than Jeno himself pulls out his wallet and slides his card into the machine. Signing his name on the device smoothly, almost prettily, before watching the cashier bag each item carefully and curiously.

You hate to say how attractive it is to see Jeno pay for things specifically meant to be used behind a locked door. He’s paid for your coffee plenty of times, but the act right now is seriously just so…..cocky? With the way his posture is perfect, his confidence is exuding when he presses the buttons, god. Is it the money or is it him doing this to your mind?

You can’t make eye contact with the woman bagging your gifts, and for some reason find yourself reluctantly making that eye contact with Jeno instead. He gives you that droopy eyed smile, the one he usually gives on a normal, non-sex-fueled day to something endearing you said. Like he didn’t just drop hundreds on things to fuck yourself with, or wear while being fucked. He can tell you’re thanking him though, appreciating him.

After leaving the store, four big bags being carried by four men, you realize that it’s really not a joke this time. There’s a clock in your head counting down to where Jeno will drive all of you to next.

“Why’re you being so quiet?” Haechan pokes you from the back seat, pulling some of your hair and forcing your head back against the headrest.

“What the fuck?” You ask in a panic, turning your entire body to look behind you at him. You can tell he can see the way that little tug had you release a hint of a moan before you started asking him the question so aggressively. “I’m just enjoying the drive, what? I can’t have a moment of silence to myself?”

You ignore the chuckle coming from Jeno, driving smoothly and keeping his eyes on the road. Then you glance at Jaemin, who is looking at you much the same way Haechan is.

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Renjun asks, leaning up to the center console again. “You’ve been acting kind of weird all day.”

“I’ve been acting weird?!” You huff. The audacity he has to say that you’re the one being weird.

“You’re just trying to pretend that we don’t want to fuck you like always.” Haechan blurts out while rolling his eyes before Jaemin elbows him in the side.

You stare at them wide eyed as Renjun slowly leans himself back defensively, as far into the seat as possible.

“Relax, you act like you weren’t picking up on the hints,” Jeno glances at you as he pulls into another lot. “Secrets out now though.” He shrugs, searching for a parking space.

“We weren’t even trying to make it a secret, damn.” Haechan rolls his eyes again. “She just likes to play dumb.”

“Or maybe she’s actually dumb.” Jaemin plays off of Haechan’s words.

“Were you guys not planning on letting me have any say in this?!” You ask, voice raised a bit from feeling incredibly flustered.

“What, you don’t want to?” Jaemin asks, narrowing his eyes at you and trying to search for a hint of a lie when you answer.

“I–” You stop yourself.

Any normal person would say no, right? Or would a normal person absolutely be down for this? Are you even a normal person?

“Hm?” Jeno encourages you to finish what you were about to say as he parks and turns off the car. “You don’t want it?” He continues, glancing down and between his legs as if to imply he’s talking more about himself than the group.

Your eyes follow his and you struggle to swallow around the lump in your throat, averting your eyes to the building that this parking lot belongs to. The fucking mall?

“I don’t know what you guys are wanting me to say but, this is all a bit too much.”

The three in the back nod happily at your half-assed rejection, messy hair waving with each nod, and then you look at Jeno as he responds.

“With all things considered, we know you like it when things are ‘a bit too much’.” He says to you, shutting down any form of rejection you could possibly give.

You stare at him as he unbuckles and opens the door to get out of the car. Your body is tingling just a little bit at his words. Goddamn that fucking tweet. Goddamn those fucking twitter circles. Goddamn you for having a bunch of horny burn out friends who suddenly feel the need to jump at the opportunity to fuck you that you would have given ages ago had they tried.

“Always acting like you don’t want it, it’s kind of cute, you know?” Haechan says, pulling himself out of the car now. Jaemin continues his string of thoughts as he gets out of the car after him, “and fucking annoying.”

There goes any ounce of self respect you could imagine having. Your brain is flooding with everything they said to you in the sex shop and, well, you’re well aware that it’s about to be a birthday to remember.

Walking through the mall with your friends should be normal, and it is. But the air is different now, knowing now a hint of the plans they seem to have for your birthday. If they hadn't said all of that in the car, surely you’d know now what the plan was.

You’re sitting in front of Jeno with your drink, Renjun beside him, Jaemin beside you. Haechan ran off to the bathroom and was in there for a while. You’d make a joke, honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone buzzes and the notification states it’s from him.

Jaemin silently and curiously watches you open it from the side.

Silence. Unnerving silence from the entire food court as you glance at your screen for a split second before slamming your phone face down on the table and refusing to look at any of them.

You feel seen, and you know for a fact that Haechan is probably laughing his ass off in that fucking bathroom stall with the way you leave that image on read.

“You’re blushing–” Jeno says, watching the way your eyes shift and you suck down your drink like there’s no tomorrow. “Why?”

You pretend you don’t hear him before Jaemin laughs.

“Haechan showed her his dick,” He smiles, leaning down onto the table and scooting close to you. “I think you liked it.”

“I barely saw it!” You defend in a tone louder than expected, continuously sipping your drink until it’s nearly empty.

You can’t bear to make eye contact with any of them right now, not after seeing a raging cock like the one Haechan is sporting. He’s a menace, truly, and it’s not that you wouldn’t have wanted to see it or anything but like maybe sending it to you in such a public space was a dick move on his part.

Sensing the eyes of three men on you right now, judging to see what you really think of Haechan’s junk, you refuse to look up from the table.

Jeno definitely takes advantage of your blind spots. Wanting so badly to see those cheeks blush the same way they’re doing for Haechan. If anything, for his own ego boost. He wants you to break for him, not for that slut Haechan who is obvious in his attempts to make you want him the most.

Your phone buzzes again.

“Go on,” Jeno smiles. “Open it.” He encourages you, noting the way you still won’t look up at them. Loving how you’re somehow both entirely shameless and entirely cautious about this situation.

You realize only now that these men are taking advantage of every single situation.

Of course you didn’t notice Jeno skewing his phone down and under the table. How could you notice? You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that Haechan is in a bathroom right now raging hard and proud of it.

You don’t even know why you listen to him, opening the text from none other than Jeno himself and seeing a photo of his hand gripping himself. You can see the outline of his length and the way his fingers grip against the sheer size of it. Right fucking here, under this very table. You can see your shoes at the corner of the photo briefly as you stare at the photo a bit longer than you truly meant to. Kind of wishing he had just sent you a raw photo of it.

Now he can fucking see you imagine what’s under these pants. The lump he’s gripping only offers so much to your imagination and it leaves you wanting more. He knows it’s doing something for you with the way you stare at it, eyes no longer darting over the screen of your phone but pointed at one specific place.

Your eyes shift up to him on instinct now.

Buzz.

You whip your head over to Renjun when you see his name pop up on your screen. He does not look at you nor your reaction to the text but is smirking devilishly just like the rest of them.

You’re a little thankful that his photo must’ve been a picture he took on some other day. You feel relief that at least he’s maybe not entirely hard like Jeno and Haechan are right now. (He is.)

“You guys are pussies,” Jaemin comments, shaming his friends for simply sending photos when you’re right here, looking all shy and reserved as if you haven’t been rubbing your legs together all day. “Come here.” He says quickly and quietly, grabbing your hand as if it’s to warm it up before blatantly pressing it between his legs and flexing his length under your palm.

He’s hard. Like, incredibly hard and it takes everything in you not to grab it.

Then you hear him chuckle, looking at you and the way you haven’t even removed your hand from him yet.

“So shameless,” Jeno side-eyes, annoyed. “We’re in public, at least act like you’re not enjoying this right now.”

You’re quick to retract your hand, feeling Jaemin’s hips shift up and against it until he can no longer chase the feeling of your fingers.

There, you’re left feeling a mess. The worst part is that they’re not even alone in being turned on right now in the middle of a food court. You regret wearing these shorts, the arousal is easily seeping through your panties and offering a very, very, uncomfortable sensation against you. Each shift of your legs feels like a jolt of pleasure and also a raw and rashed feeling of the denim being too harsh against an extremely sensitive area on your body.

Many times over the years, you’ve thought of each of these men at least once or twice. With all that porn they share on twitter, it really really is hard not to. Never did you expect them all to act this way toward you while together though. It was always a one on one thing in your head, but now? You’ve seen Haechan and Renjun’s cocks, you’ve gotten an idea of how big Jeno’s is, and you’ve blatantly felt Jaemin’s.

The body tingles are worse now. There’s a burning in your stomach, and it travels straight between your legs. The arousal is there, but a release isn’t. At least not yet.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You jump up.

Not only is this bathroom break there for like, actual bathroom purposes seeing as how you’ve had a coffee, an entire bottle of water, and now that tasty tea that you just downed within the span of three seconds, but, also because you need to breathe. You need to gather your thoughts desperately, and maybe get a better look at those photos.

“No,” Jeno laughs, standing up after you. “You’re just trying to avoid it.” He looms over you as he stands, looking down at you with a smirk. “You don’t need to use the bathroom.”

“No, I actually do need to. I just drank that entire tea in less than five minutes thanks to you guys.”

“That’s too bad,” He says in a mocking tone. “We have places to be.”

And you just look at him, seeing Haechan appear in your peripheral vision as he talks in an animated way with Jaemin and Renjun.

Store after store, you can feel the atmosphere become heavier and heavier between you and your group of friends. They’re entirely shameless in how they’re interacting with you and at this point, you can barely remember how the dynamic used to be.

There used to be flirting, but it was all based on a joke. At least that’s what you thought back then. Now, after seeing specific parts of them as they were sitting right in front of and next to you, save for Haechan, all of this flirting seems more like fucking foreplay.

It feels like torture, watching Jeno spend and spend his money on anything you so much as glance at. Haechan’s hands constantly stay on you in some way. Jaemin? Fucking Jaemin, cornering you alone every chance he gets, whispering things, pressing his dick against your ass when he’s behind you, asking you to touch him again.

You feel like you’re going insane with the amount of nervous arousal shaking within you. Your body loves it, your mind loves it. Every suggestion bursts vividly in your head, to the point that you very nearly feel like all of this could be a dream.

Then, the very not normal Renjun shocks you when he tries to lace his fingers in yours as you walk. You did find comfort with his warm hands in yours, despite having a photo of his hard cock sitting in a text message. It was kind of grounding, maybe? Reminding you that this isn’t a dream at all. All four of your friends are trying to fuck you.

Renjun kept fiddling with your fingers as you walked which, arguably, is a bit detrimental seeing as how you’re just a group of five people wandering around a mall with a desperate need to like, fuck something.

Safe to say you’re the one who may have shocked him. Thinking too hard about the way his fingers move and play against you. You focus on his birthmark, the way it contrasts with his skin tone and appears to be more like a bruise than anything else. The way his veins pulse languidly when he squeezes your fingers in his, you wonder if he moves his hands the same way when he’s using them for pleasure.

Renjun looks down at your fingers intertwined through the silence, loving the way you allow him to do this. He knows it’s not forward like everyone else even if he’s chasing the same thing. He likes to study the way you react, testing his own methods and noting how he’s somehow got you not even watching where you’re walking because you’re too busy staring at his fingers laced with yours.

“What’re you thinking about?” He whispers right up against you as you walk behind the others, shifting his eyes to check and see that they’re not paying attention to this little moment.

When you look back up at him, your attraction burns in your eyes and he sees that shit instantly.

“About my fingers?” He smirks.

You look away and relax your hand in his, as if to remove it from his grasp, but he takes this opportunity to show you the strength he has in his hands alone, squeezing tighter.

“You were imagining what they could do to you, weren’t you?” He says it so proudly, like he could possibly be the first of the four to get you to actually incriminate yourself in wanting him just as badly as he wants you.

“And if I was?” You glare before glancing down again. “What then?”

“We could slip away right now, into that bathroom over there and I could show you–”

Bathroom.

You still need to go to the bathroom, but the arousal of fucking everything right now is taking high priority when it comes to how your body feels. The burn is…interesting when you think about it. You feel heavy between your legs, entirely turned on, and honestly, if he hadn't said that word you likely would have continued to pretend you don’t need to go.

“Speaking of,” You announce so that the three walking in front turn to listen. “Bathroom break?”

Jeno doesn’t stop walking, shaking his head.

“No, this is the last stop and the bathroom is like, across the mall.” He offers a genuine excuse, causing you to huff and completely miss the way he smirks at the small win.

“There was a bathroom just back there.” You protest, halting where you are before turning to look at the door.

“Employees only.” Jeno continues, now turning himself around and walking backwards. “What? Gonna throw a tantrum? Just hold it, stop whining.”

You huff again, looking at Renjun and rolling your eyes.

“Was that for me, or do you actually need to go?” He asks as you try to speed up and walk with Jaemin instead.

“I actually need to go, but I guess I’ll just deal for now.” Another eye roll.

Damn, rejected. Still, you admitted to possibly thinking about what his fingers could do for you, and that’s a win in his book.

There’s a specific type of effort in the way you pretend you don’t care for what’s going on. You know they don’t believe your act, and they know you know. It feels like a game, and at some point all games come to an end.

The car ride back to your apartment felt like hell. Your body is far more aroused with the need to be filled compared to the need to be emptied. Thoughts of going to the bathroom are so far out of your mind with the way the silence in the car feels heavy and sex fueled.

Every sound feels like it’s implied to be sexual. Haechan stretched for a moment and every single head turned to him for the sound he made. On any other day, that’s just a stretch. Today though, that’s probably what he would sound like if he were plunging into you.

Jeno’s hand remains on your leg in a somewhat possessive way. Rubbing his thumb in circles and moving that touch higher and higher as he drives. The warmth you feel under his fingertips are forcing images to bleed into your mind. You wonder if he wants to move them higher, if he wants to tuck his fingers under the fabric and feel around the skin that’s not shown. You wonder if these simple touches would feel just as warm caressing other places on your body. Slipping under your shirt or down your shorts. Running through your hair, holding your chin up to look at him–

You’re thankful they can’t read minds. You’d blow your whole cover at this moment, as you finally let your mind truly think about what’s happened today, and what will likely happen soon. If you were in your right mind, you think you would be able to understand where all of this is coming from. It truly was sudden with the way they’re acting, but it’s a natural instinct for you to not care why it’s happening, and only care about the fact that it should happen.

There’s no telling what will take place when you get back into your apartment. You can picture it so clearly but then again, you also can’t. There’s so many things you can do with four men at the same time but, the issue is that you want to do all of the things.

“So, you want us all to eat you out.” Jaemin deadpans through the silence. What he says should be a question, but it comes out more like a statement.

In all fairness, he’s so hard that being quiet right now? Waiting like he has been all day? It’s too much. He needs to talk about it.

Only now do you tear your eyes away from Jeno’s hand on your leg.

“What?” You ask, searching your brain for any sober thought that would indicate you ever invited them to do such a thing with your own words.

“You said you want us to eat you out on your couch.” He dead pans, sucking in a breath and adjusting himself in the seat to offer his length optimal comfort.

“No? I didn’t?”

“Bullshit!” Haechan argues, already pulling up the receipts on his phone and leaning forward to put it directly in your line of sight. “Eyeball emoji and all.”

You stare at the tweet you shared with the implications it gave to your friends. Now, you’re in a car with said friends, on your birthday, after an entire day of sex fueled conversations and acts.

It definitely was an implication at its finest but it’s not like you knew this would come out of it. This specific tweet seems to have been the final straw for them and you can’t help but feel fucking proud of it.

“Technically, I didn’t say that.” You still try to keep the energy you’ve had all day, but Jeno’s hand offers you a squeeze against your thigh and instantly you’re turning your head to look at him.

“But you do want it,” Jeno says, pulling into the lot of your apartment building. “And we’re going to give it to you.”

You stare at him much like you have tried to avoid all day.

“But–”

“Stop.” He warns, cutting you off from any argument you try to form. “You want it.” He repeats again, this time letting his eyes scan you for a moment.

He’s not wrong. If anything, you want it more now than you did three seconds ago based on that tone of voice alone. That cold, scolding, deep voice that would make you agree to anything he says anyway.

You don’t even turn to look at the nods of approval as Jeno shuts you down. Instead, you wait for him to park.

First things first, bathroom. Except that’s not anyone else’s priority. You wouldn’t be able to go even if you started running for the door.

Why? Because the way Jaemin closes in on you before the front door is even closed. Shamefully, his eagerness does manage to push that need for a release into the back of your mind for just a little longer.

After a full day of fantasizing, wanting, and needing, Jaemin made damn sure he was the first. Kicking his shoes off and helping you to get yours off before blatantly ignoring his friends and swooping you up in his arms.

You briefly glance back at the others, offering a pleading look of “save me please” but, there is no saving to be had here. All three of them have a dark look in their eyes, leaving the bags of gifts bought for you right there at the door as they watch Jaemin give in to his fantasy first.

That, he does. There is no room to protest, to play games, or pretend like you’d push him away. Because you won’t, and he fucking knows it.

He carries you to the couch with such ease, tossing you down onto it and adjusting you before you can do it yourself.

You can’t look away from him. For a moment it feels like this instance with him is entirely hidden. Like there aren't three other guys watching the way he pushes you back against the couch, falls to his knees, and spreads your legs with a strong grip.

“Oh fuck,” He comments to himself, noting the way you smell from the day of their hard work on arousing you. He stares directly between your legs and loves the way your shorts have ridden up to the point it must have been uncomfortable. “Look at you.”

You can’t bear to admit the blatant truth of what he’s seeing. These shorts have been dampened over and over again today. You’d be shocked if they were dry. You can imagine how pathetic you look right now too, pussy nearly on display already while still being fully covered.

On instinct you shoot your arms up to cover your face as if to avoid this embarrassment. The confirmation of wanting this all day, just like them, is shameful. Even as Jaemin unbuttons your shorts and starts to tug at them, you can’t help the way you feel like you’re spiraling.

You want this so badly, and now Jaemin has the dirty, messy, wet proof.

“So shy,” You hear from behind you, now feeling another pair of hands pull your arms from your face and hold them at your side, as he dips down to your neck from behind the couch. “You tried to hide it but,” He continues, blowing softly at the spot at the dip of your neck. “You were squeezing those legs together all day wanting someone between them, weren’t you?”

Goddamn Jeno for being a talker. Fuck Jeno for having these strong hands and holding you down for Jaemin to toy around between your legs. Curse that man for having such a sensual voice as he talks to you, dumbing you down to the point that all you can do is fucking agree with him.

Jaemin listens intently to the way Jeno talks to you as he continues to bask in the scent. Your shorts are now crumpled to the floor and your blatant arousal was evident in all forms of the word. Your panties leave nothing to the imagination, soaked to the point of not being able to hold any more of that dripping heat. They rode up much like your shorts did, exposing both lips and folds to envelope the fabric tightly as if you were intending to gain some sort of friction from them throughout the day. He thinks that you were, quite literally, fucking yourself against these flimsy panties for the majority of the time you spent with them, pretending that they weren’t rubbing against your clit the entire time.

He hums from between your legs, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs to spread your legs out more. Haechan comes over now, wanting to see what it is that has Jaemin entirely speechless and holy fuck, anyone would be.

Your folds are glistening in wet, unsticking and settling around your tightly stretched panties in a different way now. Haechan makes no attempt to pretend it’s not a beautiful sight.

He’s the first to moan at the image of how pathetically horny you got for them. All while trying to hide it, parading around all fucking day with your panties hugging that clit in a way you wished he was– for sure. Him. You want him the most, and he’s going to fucking give it to you.

“Aww,” Haechan coos, his eyes scanning you entirely. “You really do want me to eat it, don’t you?”

The heat that runs down your body at those words is more telling than the small sigh that forces itself out of your throat. Your entire body jerks at the feeling of goosebumps reacting to his words, and for some reason, you shoot your eyes to Renjun as if seeing him right now will calm your embarrassment. It doesn’t though. Renjun is looming near the entry of your living room, staring blankly at what’s been revealed with the heavy length in his pants twitching and making itself known to you. He appears to be waiting for your response.

You don’t respond. How could you? There are no words in your head right now. Not with all of the sensations you’re feeling, not with all of the eyes on you. You try to offer a nod, feeling pathetic, but your hips answer for him.

Haechan watches the way they buck up at his words and instantly he’s shoving Jaemin over with a confident chuckle, slotting himself between your legs alongside him. He shows no shame in the way he hooks his fingers under the panties, digging in deep just to get a hold of them. You can feel his knuckle bump your hole and you clench at the feeling. Then, as if he’s making a show of it, he groans as he stretches your panties out of your folds and away from your body.

“Damn,” Haechan says nearly in unison with Jaemin, both entirely too eager to be in a shared space between your legs right now. They barely even acknowledge the other, but there is a silent form of encouragement between the two.

Never did you think you’d find your eyes glued to the way Haechan slips the panties off of you, or the way Jaemin pockets them instantly. Like they’re working together, even if not on the same team.

You breathe in audibly at the air that hits you. It’s cold, sending a shiver down your entire body. Jeno feels those goosebumps under his hold on you, his cock twitching wildly in his pants at seeing how you’re just letting this happen.

“So, so, dirty,” He starts in a whisper against your neck, so silent that it almost feels like he doesn’t want the others to hear. “I knew you’d get off to this.”

You release the smallest of groans and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s calling you out or if it’s because someone down there just slid their fingers up your slit.

Holy fuck, whose fingers are down there doing this right now?

Haechan is beaming up at you, giving himself the title of public enemy number one because he definitely centered himself between your legs and shoved Jaemin out of the way entirely. He wants to be the first one to taste you, and he fucking means it.

He shows no shame in how desperate he is, which kind of makes you feel a little better as you watch him and his head of messy hair nearly lose sight of the goal while he spreads your pussy apart repeatedly just to see you clench around nothing.

God, he adores seeing your body reacting to what he’s not yet giving. The way you clench, the way your legs tense with each slide of his fingers. He’s inspecting the damage of your untouched and utterly soaked pussy as if it was entirely his fault that you’re in this state.

The other’s let him have this one though, because they know for a fact that when they get between those thighs, they’ll humble him with confident ease.

Jaemin, specifically, believes this. Taking defeat in being shoved from between your legs and losing his chance at being the first to fuck his tongue into you. The image of Haechan doing his thing is enough to give him the confidence to do twice as well when it’s his turn anyway.

He busies himself instead.

There, as Haechan slides his fingers up your slit before landing right on your clit and pressing harshly against it, Jaemin unlocks his phone and opens his camera without a single hint of hesitation. His other hand goes straight to his jeans, skewing them down to let his cock spring free. Then, he’s reaching for your soaked panties and simply…hanging them off the head of his length as he records the scene in front of him with an eager glint in his eye.

“Mm, look–” Jeno says as he nudges your cheek, holding you down more now in case you make an attempt to lunge forward and knock that phone out of his hands. “You must look so good down there for him to wanna record you like this.”

You don’t even protest, because the clench of your pussy that’s being recorded in 4k would tell on you. Jaemin’s eyes are glued to the screen of his phone as Haechan continues to spread you open, exploring, feeling. Your eyes are tuned in to the only bare cock in the room now, seeing your panties shield the majority of it but loving the imagine of how tall his length stands, and then, finally–

“Oh? What was that?” Jeno perks up at the now, louder, sigh you release from your shamed lips. “Do you like what he’s doing?” He adds, trailing his eyes down to see exactly what caused you to make such a pretty sound.

You moan a confirmation, feeling a warm pair of lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly. The sounds of Haechan’s pleased hum at the taste only amplifies the touch beyond belief. Your entire body tingles at how insane all of this feels. Lips on you, Jeno’s voice in your ear, Jaemin recording it for later use, and Renjun slowly inviting himself to join?

Your legs immediately try to close around Haechan’s head when he continues to assault your clit with small grazes of his teeth, and wouldn’t you know it, Renjun finally approaches. Taking the struggle of your legs as a fucking invitation. He holds your legs with a stronger grip than you ever imagined he could have, spreading them wide enough that your ass nearly lifts from the couch.

The stretch of how wide he spreads them burns, and you try to look up at him in a pleading way but he's too busy pressing his surprisingly large cock against the side of your leg as he watches Haechan lick against you.

Haechan is appreciative of what Renjun offers to the scenario, feeling your pussy spread out across his lips and chin. It’s enticing when he doesn’t have to spread it open with his fingers, and it’s hard not to lick the entirety of it as he abandons your clit. Tongue slipping through each fold, licking flat right against your hole, then pressing in slightly before returning back to your clit and skewing his head to really get at it.

So, this is actually a thing that is happening. All four of your friends are entirely tuned into you and you’re being held down as if you’d run away. As if you’re not enjoying it. Goddamn, you are though.

In a split second decision, you prove that by overpowering Jeno and his weaker hold against you now. Seeing as how he was entirely lost in watching the way your legs and stomach tense at whatever Haechan’s tongue was doing. You rip your arms from his grasp and instantly grab Haechan’s hair, holding his face down and against your clit. Rubbing his nose in it, bucking your hips up against the pressure of his lips and tongue, wildly chasing what his lazy tongue struggles to offer.

There’s the desperate need to fuck all of your friends that you’ve been hiding, and it’s showing.

Jeno chuckles, nodding against your neck, still not touching and waiting for you to just fucking moan louder. More than Haechan, just overpower his sounds so he doesn’t have to hear how fucking good you taste, or how good you smell, or how good your pussy must look down there.

Still, you don’t give them everything they want. You stay reserved in the sounds you make in terms of reactions, even as you use Haechan’s face like a toy. Even as Jaemin audibly gasps at what you’re doing, even as Renjun releases one of your legs out of a desperate need to hold the other one against him so that he can feel some type of release.

Haechan knows his friends are jealous of him at this moment though. He’s lucky to feel your fingers tugging against his hair, he’s blessed to have your clit bumping his lips. He can feel your pussy drip against his chin the more you ride his face, and goddamn he must be doing a good job at being used.

That, he is. You only struggle more and more to not moan at the feeling of the way he just…lets you. If you knew he was always this submissive when it comes to eating pussy, you would have jumped on his tongue years ago.

Jaemin continues his recording, trying to zoom in and out to get a good angle that doesn’t involve the boners of his own friends, eventually deciding that he simply doesn’t care if Renjun is in the frame fucking that monster he’s got in his jeans against your leg. You’re the center of the world right now, and he’s a part of this just like his friends.

He tries not to focus on the image of Haechan gripping your couch for dear life either.

Slowly though, he begins to realize there’s a strange type of arousal in this room, one that isn’t entirely burning just for you. There’s something about seeing Haechan being used, seeing Jeno try to remain in control, whispering cocky little words into your ear, like he’s not pressing his cock against the back of that couch, seeing Renjun blatantly lose his composure against you when he’s never so much as hinted to the others that he was into this sort of thing.

Jaemin really feels like he’s going insane over the realization of how alluring this situation is, how alluring his friends are, how alluring he must be.

The speed of which he tosses the panties from his cock and shoves Haechan out of his way is not to be discussed. He feels a fire behind his thoughts at this moment that surely, Haechan won’t mind. Surely, you’ll not feel that split second of abandonment that’ll take place in the time span it takes for him to replace Haechan’s lips.

He forces his phone into a dazed Haechan’s hands who lazily raises the camera up to see Jaemin take his place. The way you barely even take a breath, the way you don’t even react to the change of mouth against you– goddamn, Haechan may very well fall into obsession with you at this moment.

Replacing him with Jaemin like he’s trash? Why does he love it? The way you grab Jaemin’s hair the same way you did to his own? Is that what he looked like when you did that? Spreading your legs and fucking against his face? Seeing it from a different angle, with a different person to Haechan, makes him believe you may be the sexiest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of licking.

And if you knew of the crisis happening below, perhaps you’d be able to focus on that more than the sound of Jeno’s deep sighs against your neck. Really, maybe you would have realized that the hair tangled in your fingers is now Jaemin’s.

Your brain focuses solely on the way Jeno’s lips brush against your skin, the wet feeling of his tongue darting out every few minutes, whispering deep mutterings of the things he loves about what’s happening. Words like “I can hear how wet you are, is it for me or for them?” and “You want more, don’t you? I could bury myself so deep for you–”

It’s kind of crazy how Jeno’s words somehow feel more intense than Jaemin’s tongue on you. There’s something within his words that feel damning. Like he’s belittling his friends despite blatantly seeing how they pleasure you. Like there’s a promise sprinkled in that after all of this, he would be the one you’d think about the most. He would be the one to leave the lasting impression.

Arguably, he already has. Spending his money on you without question, calling you out in a way that shows he knows exactly what game you’re playing. You think that if you let Jeno have at you, it may very well be a lasting impression on everyone, not just you.

Still, you try to focus on Jaemin’s lips through Jeno’s muttering.

You can feel the way he uses more tongue than Haechan and you know your hips are chasing his mouth right now. You can also feel the vibrations of his moans against you and while that is a heavenly feeling, Jeno’s small grunts penetrate straight through that pleasure and center itself once again. Briefly, you almost imagine it’s Jeno between your legs.

You’re moaning softly right next to him, hips chasing a feeling that he’s not even offering to you but god these sounds are for him. You’d never tell Jaemin that the moans aren’t directed at the beautiful work he’s giving to you though. Never.

These moans are for Jeno to react to, to take in, to use as encouragement. And he eats it up, tensing himself against your couch and finally using his hands for something other than helping you hold Jaemin’s head in place.

He runs them up, now moving his head to the other side of your neck and leaving small kisses there as he lifts your shirt up, up, up until it’s bunched up under your arms. There, he cups the flesh of your chest and uses his pointer finger on both hands to tease your already hardened nipples through the fabric of your bra.

He’s thought about playing with your tits so often, now that he can do it? He’d be damned not to savor it while his friends are busy fucking themselves and being used by you.

He teases, and teases, and fucking teases.

“Sensitive?” He whispers against you at the way you arch your back into his touch more than the way your hips fuck up.

You nod mindlessly, throwing your head back against the couch. Then, finally, he pulls your bra up too. An uncomfortable fit against your collar bone but his warm hands overpower the feeling of fabric that you’d rather have removed completely.

At first, he just holds them in his hands, feeling the weight of them, bouncing them, and then caressing them.

“Could drive me insane with these.” He whispers against your neck in a pleased sigh, pinching one of your nipples before mindlessly playing with them. “I’d like to slide my dick between them and feel how fucking soft they are,” He continues, losing his train of thought as he stares down, imagining how the slide would feel. “Fuck, so pretty.”

At that moment, you think he might have lost composure. The sound of his voice indicates that he was really thinking about it. You can feel the couch budge at the way he tenses up against it, and that paired with his teeth biting against your neck, you feel like the most desired person in the room. Which is true.

The more Jeno talks, the more you find yourself willing to give him just about anything he asks for. His big hands grope your chest in such a firm way, blatantly showing interest in the way he touches and plays with them. Every fleshy expanse of skin there is warmed up by his hands and it’s not strange at all to feel incredibly turned on by it.

Haechan audibly moans at seeing your tits jiggle in Jeno’s hands, probably ruining the video he’s recording but god damn. He knew they were huge but they’re pretty too and that’s just the ultimate combination when it comes to tits for him.

Just as Haechan goes to make his mouth useful again against a different part of you, Renjun takes what he needs. Which is fair, Haechan thinks, knowing that he’s already gotten to taste you, the least he can do is let Renjun suck some titties.

Jaemin, is still below enjoying himself and shockingly, Haechan is keeping to himself as he records, slipping his hand down his pants just to edge himself every few minutes as he watches the situation unfold. Almost in a daze at how insane it is that finally, you’re letting them see and touch you like this.

Feeling Renjun finally put his mouth on you though? Damn. Feeling three of the four touching you is a lot to take in but you still manage to do it. Jolts of pleasure are sent straight to where Jaemin continuously grinds his lips against your clit. Renjun shows no shame in inviting himself onto the couch next to you, swatting one of Jeno’s hands away and laying claim on one of your tits, immediately sucking against it and feeling himself spiral at the way you arch into it.

Jeno can’t say he’s too pleased with that though, staring straight at the way everyone has had their lips on part of you, but all he’s gotten was your fucking neck? All he’s gotten was to hump up against this couch to satiate his needs, and feel your nipples?

Renjun doesn’t notice the dark look on Jeno’s face, but Haechan sure does as he double takes at both the image on the phone screen and Jeno.

He recognizes that look and knows for a fact that Renjun better open his eyes and pay attention, or–

“Jaemin, get her off or move–” Jeno says, halting his fingers on your nipple as he backs away from the couch and now comes around in full view.

You stare, feeling Renjun continuously suck against your nipple, sending ripples down to your belly. Jeno’s pants are much tighter than before, and you can see the outline of his cock much like when you saw the photo he sent you.

It looks even bigger than before and your mouth nearly waters for it. The eye contact he’s keeping with you doesn’t do anything to help the situation either because he loves the way you struggle to decide on if you want to meet his eye or stare at his length.

There, he grabs himself, thrusting his hips playfully toward you with a quirk of his brow, as if to suggest you could have more than just his tongue if you ask.

You take in the implied suggestion, releasing Jaemin’s hair and struggling not to shove him clear across the room just to see what Jeno has to offer to you. It’s honestly like no one else in the room exists when he stands between your legs, looming over you and not at all falling to his knees.

You, Haechan, and Jaemin watch as he stands there, making a show of unbuttoning his pants to get his cock out. Renjun remains in his own little world though, sucking your nipple as if his life depends on it while shoving his pants down and shamelessly fucking into his fist.

Then, Jeno makes his move. It’s not exactly unwanted but damn, he really fucking goes for it. Dropping his pants to the floor and gripping Renjun by the hair, pulling him away from you as well.

“You got what you wanted while I had to watch,” Jeno comments harshly at his friends, grabbing your legs and pulling you down to wrap them around his waist. “Now, you watch me.”

Instantly, your pussy is throbbing at the image of how huge he is. His cock lays easily against you, heavy and leaking as it twitches to be inside of something. He’s going to fuck you. Jeno is going to fuck the life out of you. This wasn’t at all in the plan, then again, was any of this in your plan for the day?

Do you want Jeno to fuck you? Your eyes scan the room, all three men and a camera pointing their eyes at you. There seems to be a bit of a hopeful glint in each eye.

You nod weakly, watching Jeno take a good look at your pussy before smirking.

“So wet for this, no wonder they were moaning more than you were,” Jeno smiles, staring down at your hole before licking the tips of his fingers and dipping them into you without so much as a warning. “Feels good to finally have something to fuck, right Birthday girl?”

You’re speechless, wincing at how deep he buries his fingers. Never realizing just how perfect they’d reach inside of you. He bumps areas inside that you desperately need with so much ease.

Oh, oh fucking no.

There’s that burn. The reminder of a different release, pressure building up at lightning speed as your wet walls squeeze his fingers.

“How long have you wanted this?” Jeno comments at how tight you’re squeezing his fingers. “How long have you wanted me?” He continues, ignoring the other three in the room and paying no mind to them.

You can barely answer, your body reacting in all sorts of ways that it never has when it comes to a pair of fingers and dirty words. Perhaps it’s the sudden burn of needing to get to the bathroom, or perhaps it’s just Jeno. He leaves no room for any of that though, as he continues to chase what he wants.

“You want me?” He asks, urging you to nod, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks with one hand to look directly into his eyes.

His other hand pulls from your pussy and he coats his length in that wet that soaks his fingers. There, he tugs, leaking just like you are for it.

You blink up at him, sparing a single glance at the others and hoping that they don’t protest when you ultimately nod your head innocently.

“Take it then.” He seethes the words through his teeth before instantly adjusting his length and sliding into you in one go. Bottoming out entirely and holding himself there.

The sound you let out is embarrassing and slightly choked. The stretch of him inside of you makes you shake, your legs falling open from around him at the weakness in your muscles trying to adjust to the intrusion.

His two fingers were not enough to prepare for how thick he is inside of you. Every twitch he offers hurts, every breath he takes feels like he’s already fucking you senseless and you genuinely couldn’t muster up a single word of “wait,” if you wanted to.

Because you don’t want him to wait. You like the searing pain of fullness both inside of your pussy and bladder. It’s overwhelming and almost blinding to feel so utterly out of control of your body.

“Oh, my god.” Jaemin whispers out, experiencing first hand how huge Jeno’s cock is and the way he makes it fit into you.

He can see how tight you are around him, knowing for a fact that if Jeno were to jerk his hips back, your pussy would resist it. He shifts his eyes to the other’s in the room, seeing how Haechan has blatantly abandoned his phone and propped it up on the table to get his pants off, probably because he wants to see if he can fuck you after Jeno.

Renjun is just fucking gone, already having a fair share of cum on his shirt and breathing hard as he stares directly at the point of entry in a dazed and hopeful way.

Then there’s himself. Jaemin wants to fuck something so goddamn bad that he’s actually a little upset that he left that store without a pocket pussy. If Jeno gets to do what he wants, why the fuck can’t he?

So, he not so reluctantly finds him moving to his feet and over to you– avoiding eye contact with Jeno as he kicks his pants off followed by his shirt and lounges next to you on the couch.

He’s reluctant to reach for you at first, but when Jeno relieves that pressure inside of you for a moment and slams back in, he finds himself immediately reaching for your hand and lying it directly against his cock simply because of the sound you make.

You can barely think straight through the stars of Jeno’s cock spreading you open so slowly like this. He barely pulls out before pushing back in when you feel Jaemin grab your hand. You do your best, honestly, with all things considered. Opting to simply hold his cock tightly so that he can at least fuck into it. And that he does, especially when he hears the continuous string of whimpered moans spilling from your lips.

Jeno really does pay no mind to Jaemin because the point is, he’s the one who has his cock in you. They can take what they can get but he’s going to take exactly what he wants.

You’re incredibly tight around him, strangling his cock in such a beautiful way despite still dripping around it. The slide is harsh when he pulls back again. He looks down, watching the way your pussy grips him before pushing back in a bit harder this time.

“God, fuck,” He groans, gripping your legs and now pushing you back and fully onto the couch. He crawls over you, somehow managing to plant his cock even deeper when he thrusts this time. “You can barely take it–”

The way he moans breathlessly makes you feel proud despite your body feeling as if it’s on fire. Not a single mouth on your clit has gotten you close to orgasm because of his words overshadowing it. Now, though? With his cock bumping repeatedly against the softest spot in your pussy? You’re fucking shaking.

His moans do little to help the situation as you clench tightly, panicking slightly at the familiar feeling in your gut. You shoot up, nearly knocking heads with Jeno and abandoning Jaemin’s pathetically needy cock all together when you continue to push Jeno away.

He barely budges, forcing his cock in and out of you, smiling at your panic. This is what he was waiting for, he can see exactly what you’re trying to do.

“Just take it,” He laughs slowly, picking up the pace of his hips and watching that panic in your eyes. “Let it go.”

You can’t bring yourself to do it. That burning sensation in your bladder making itself far too known when his cock bumps that spot inside of you. You aggressively shake your head.

“Come on, let it go.” He encourages, now snaking his hand down and rubbing your clit at such speed that really, it’s not intentional.

Your body tenses and you let out that breath you’ve been holding through this. On instinct your body pushes, it shakes, and you let go. Jeno knew exactly what he was doing throughout the day too, so he’s fucking beaming when your pussy forces him out along with the gushing liquid of your long awaited release.

“God, so messy.” He compliments you, trying to force his cock back into place to feel that release in its full intensity. “Let it go, drench me–” He continues to talk, losing his goddamn mind at how soaked he’s getting. Fucking so harshly past your clenching walls, burying himself as deep as he can go just to feel the way your pussy jerks him off in an attempt to push him out.

He rumbles out a pleased sound, side eyeing Jaemin and the way he sits there fisting his own cock at a speed that is likely very painful. He can’t bear to turn to see the other’s though, but hopefully they know now who is calling the shots here after this.

It goes on for so long that you can barely even open your eyes by the time your body stops releasing. You choose not to comment on what just happened, knowing full well that you’ve never squirted in your life and feeling embarrassed that Jeno fucked you for a total of four minutes to force that out of you.

The relief you feel inside of you right now is…interesting to say the least. Still, you choose not to focus on the fact that Jeno is fucking beaming at you, still fucking into you, and the wet sounds below are far more telling than any porn you’ve ever watched.

The room falls into silence save for the slapping of Jeno taking you for all you’re worth and the sounds of palms hitting the base of their assigned cocks, and– oh?

“You’re just taking it–” He groans out, short of breath as he drives himself deeper, harder, and then suddenly emptying you completely.

“Renjun,” Jeno says, lazily pumping his cock as if he didn’t just go fucking feral on top of you, and then abandon you.

You’re shocked at how fucking fast Renjun jumps up though, following orders as if he was born to do it.

No words are spoken after that, all Jeno does is nod his head to the space between your legs and immediately you feel Renjun’s hands gripping your thighs and his tongue lapping away at the mess.

Your legs start to shake again, feeling sensitive to the point that your hips try and fight to get away from his relentless probes of the tongue. He won’t let you go, holding you down and letting his lips follow wherever your hips go.

You can’t get away, all you can feel is Renjun’s mouth cleaning up every single drop of that embarrassing mess that Jeno created, and the desperate whines that are coming from your lips only drive Renjun to eat harder. Making out with your clit in the way he’s wanted to do all fucking day, stiffening his tongue and tasting the insides of you, fingernails digging into your flesh just to prove how badly he needed this.

It all happens so fast, a second orgasm approaching at the speed of light when Jeno coos out at the both of you. You both look pathetic, and it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

Renjun goes, and goes, and fucking goes until– you realize how close he is.

So close that, despite already having gotten off once without so much as letting anyone know, he’s standing to his feet and instantly fisting his cock. The speed of which he does it allows your clit to swell even more at the image despite your orgasm trickling back down.

You focus on his face and the way his brows knit together, his mouth falls open, and then– a breathy moan. You can feel it spill, dripping down your slit and onto the couch. You’re shocked he has so much to offer as you lay there shaking, watching him empty himself entirely onto you.

And then, the fucking whiplash you feel when Jeno moves him out of the way and, quite literally, drags you onto the floor before spreading you out wide for ultimate use.

As long as he gets his cock in you again, they can do whatever they want for their release.

You’re so silent, never feeling more like prey than you do now when you feel Jeno tuck a cushion up under your ass and fuck Renjun’s cum right into you in one slow and languid thrust. It’s animalistic in the way this turned from them trying to pleasure you into now, them trying to pleasure themselves.

You can barely comprehend the way Jeno forces you to take his size again. Your mouth is left hanging open and Haechan uses that as a damn invitation, pressing his length past your lips and bumping the back of your throat. He holds your head there, feeling your throat constrict around him and releasing a long awaited moan that he’s been needing since he originally got to taste you.

Relief is what they’re getting right now, and for some reason, you don’t feel ashamed at all with the way you let them. You’re a fucking mess despite Renjun cleaning you up and then promptly dirtying you twice as much. You open your eyes through your gagging at Haechan.

He pauses at that. Staring down at the way the tears start to run down your cheek, but you’re implying with your slow blinks that you feel good.

“Fuck, it’s just like the video–” Haechan chokes out, fucking his hips into your mouth at a rapid speed, reminding himself of that video you shared with the girl needing to be filled in every form of the word.

And you know, Jaemin would totally take you up on that offer, forcing all of you to stop just so he can get under you and fuck into that same hole Jeno has claimed, but, well, listen.

He’s so fucking close. He’s been edging himself this entire time and he will be damned to spill anywhere near someone else’s cock. Why? Because he’s way too attracted to everyone right now and he’s a bit concerned about getting off to someone other than you right now.

Which, that’s a hurdle he can deal with when he gets to it. He, instead, takes this opportunity to go for your hand again. Obsessing over the way your weak fingers grip him in an instant, dragging up and down his length with the help of Jeno’s insistent and harsh thrusts.

He watches the way you moan with stretched lips, the way your legs lift to wrap around Jeno’s waist to try and hold him in place and then– Oh? You gain your composure back and grip his cock like you’re hell bent on milking him dry.

He groans with a smile, sinking down on his knees next to you and letting you work him up just like you’re doing for the others.

You’re going with your hands, with your mouth, and with that tight little pussy of yours apparently because everything else happens in a blur.

To Renjun, he takes it upon himself to grab that phone and be sure to capture every messy second of what happens.

First one down is Haechan. Once again, he grips your head and holds your face flat against his abdomen when he releases deep into your throat. His hands shake as he struggles not to suffocate you like this. He could feel you swallow around each spurt of his cum, utterly spending him of all energy before he releases you and lazily throws himself back against your floor in a huff.

Then, Jaemin. Despite being in his head, promising himself that your hand was good enough for him to finish, he couldn’t resist the absence of a cock in your mouth at that point. He immediately replaces Haechan, being far more gentle with the way he fucks himself against your tongue. Didn’t take long at all to have his hips stutter. He was more particular about his release though, snapping his hips back when his orgasm approached and jerking himself off right there against your face. He intentionally misses your mouth, wanting to see it drip down your cheeks and chin and onto those tits that have been long abandoned by now.

Which is a shame because he really likes those.

Then, Jeno, pulling the power moves he always does.

He waits, and he waits, changing his pace time and time again to prevent you both from releasing. He does this until you’re practically gone. Your eyes roll back, your mouth is slack, and he can tell you have no thoughts at all in your head when you start babbling. Finally, he rubs your clit.

There, he holds himself off as your orgasm sends you straight into another dimension. You tremble through it as your entire body falls limp and out of breath and only then does he pull out and release the most pornographic, deep, moan you’ve ever heard in your life.

The amount of cum he releases on you is fucking obscene. To be fair, you drenched him first but holy fuck does he lay claim to as much of you as he can.

It spurts up to your tits, some lands on your belly, a majority of it spills directly onto your clit and thighs.

You can’t help it when your fingers move to trace some of it around even more, feeling entirely sticky both inside and out. You help him lay his claim on every other part of you, even going as far as smearing that cum on your clit and gently dipping it inside of you with the tips of your fingers.

Jeno, out of breath and fucking watching you do that takes in a pained breath.

“Don’t” He warns, amazed by you. “Don’t do shit like that.”

You tilt your head with a dazed smile, pushing your fingers in deeper as if to ask “why not?”

He shakes his head, a smile creeping up on his face.

“Always such a damn tease.”

a/n: there was a lot more i wanted to add to this, such as jeno getting his chance to eat and stuff, but i was writing too much so I hope you liked it anyway!

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #haechan smut #renjun smut

6K notes · View notes

ryukatters · 9 months

Text

don’t go - k. bakugo

a/n: I’m so horny for this man I can’t even think straight. This was supposed to be short and fluffy but now it’s turned into this. I would say sorry but I’m not. (Yes I am alive)

pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader

wc: 1.5k

content/warnings: smut, unprotected morning s*x, begging, overstimulation, bkg is obsessed with you, also completely not proofread

Your boyfriend Katsuki is clingy. Very clingy— in all senses of the word, and you’re convinced that if you open a dictionary right now his name would show up as the very definition of it. Bakugo would live under your skin if he could, or at the very least come up with a way to keep you in his pocket.

As lovely as your boyfriend is, his innate urge to smother you in affection poses a problem in times like these— early mornings where you have to get up and get ready for work.

“Katsuki, I need to go to work. Go back to your side of the bed.”

“Just quit,” he murmurs, “I’ll take care of ya.”

“As appealing as that sounds, no. I need to get up and do my part as a functioning member of society.” Any attempt to leave your shared bed is shut down by Bakugo, his strength easily overpowering yours as he wraps his arms around you and lays on top of you.

“But you’re my pillow,” he says with a bit of a sigh, pressing his into the crook of your neck, melting further into you. His hot breath tickles your skin, and it’s enough to have your heart pounding along with a familiar warmth in between your legs. Katsuki is observant to a fault, he knows you better than the back of his own hand, and knows just what to do to turn you into putty.

His hands snake up under your (read: his) shirt, kneading your breasts. You let out a sharp gasp as he tweaks your nipples and sucks a love bite at the junction of your neck. He hums in appreciation as he slowly leaves a trail of wet kisses down your stomach, stopping just as he reaches your underwear.

He traces your slit, eyes darkening as the fabric begins to dampen with your slick. “So wet for me already, baby.” It’s not a question, it’s a fact that he already knew. Katsuki wastes no time sliding the garment down your legs. He takes a moment to run his hands up and down both your thighs before prying your legs further apart, exposing yourself to him completely. He can feel his mouth water at the sight of you.

Katsuki can’t help but moan the minute his lips attach themselves to your clit, sucking fervently. “Always taste so good, princess.”

You take a moment to glance down, which proves to be a mistake. Katsuki’s practically making out with your pussy, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re nothing short of lovesick. His vermillion orbs draw you in, and they’re absolutely magnetizing. You have to close your eyes to stave off your orgasm for a little longer.

Katsuki can’t help but grind against the edge of the bed to feel some sort of release. He’s so fucking hard. He thinks he’s growing delirious. Katsuki swears he can cum from the taste of your pussy and the sound of your angelic voice filling the room with a sweet symphony. When you let out a particularly breathy call of his name, he has to will himself not to finish in his boxers, which is already usually a difficult enough task on its own, but now it's almost impossible from how impossibly hard he is with morning wood.

You grind against his mouth, hands carding through his hair as your orgasm rapidly approaches. Katsuki is more than eager to be used as a means of getting there. Even as you cum, he continues to fuck your hole with his tongue and lapping up your pussy. It’s only when you begin to push him away does he feel the need to lean back, a loud pop reverberating as he does.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me take care of ya?”

“Mmm, fuck. Yes, ‘ki.”

“Good girl,” he coos, his lips pressing against yours with fervor. You allow him to deepen the kiss, sucking on his tongue. He moans appreciatively, hips stuttering as he continues to grind against you. The head of his cock bumps against your clit over and over, smearing precum all over your pussy. His tip just barely presses against your fluttering hole, and you can feel your insides ache with anticipation and utter need.

He’s teasing you. You’re overstimulated yet somehow unsatisfied. Your pussy is craving to be stretched out, and Katsuki is making sure he’s doing everything but that. He likes getting you like this— needy, clingy, nearly delirious as you beg for him. He likes to think of it as reparations for how insane you make him feel on the daily.

You’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Katsuki, please,” you whine, lifting your hips to grind against his dick, hoping to get what you want, what you need. You look up at Katsuki and for a moment, you think you’ve got him— think that you’d be able to look at him with those doe eyes and get what you want easily, like always. He never could refuse you.

But he merely smirks, and uses one hand to press you back down into the mattress.

“Tell me what you want, princess. You know I’ll make it good for you.”

“Want you to fuck me, ‘ki.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whine sweetly.

“I’ll give you what you want baby,” he affirms, the timbres of his voice reaching the depths of your soul. He uses both hands to press both of your legs by your shoulders, cock lined at your entrance. I always do, don’t I?

You can’t stop the moan that tumbles out of your lips as he fills you up. Katsuki presses a kiss against your forehead, relishing in the way you tighten around his dick.

The familiar coil that’s been forming in your tummy is threatening to unravel, if your stuttered moans and breaths are any indication. Katsuki seems to know this too, as he pulls out right before you hit your climax. You whine at the sudden lack of overwhelming pressure, and Katsuki’s quick to silence you with a hard stare.

His breath ghosts against your lips, vermillion eyes burning into yours with intense, unspoken passion. “What’s wrong, princess?”

You shake your head in the negative. “Wanna cum, Katsuki. Please.”

He starts thrusting again, slowly and with purpose. His eyes never leave yours. It doesn’t take long for you to be on the brink of an orgasm again. “You want to cum, right baby?” He smiles when he sees you nod. “You can cum,” he says carefully, “but only if you do one thing for me.”

“I’ll do anything Kats,” you manage to choke out. Katsuki continues to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You really would do anything, Katsuki’s own desire and utter want for you is so persuasive that you feel compelled to follow.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips pressing a chaste kiss against yours. “Stay with me, today.” There’s an urgency behind his words despite them being said so softly.

Fuck it.

You barely manage to let out a stuttered “yes, ‘ki,” before you reach your peak. The pleasure rolls over you in waves, tears threatening to spill as Katsuki continues to drill into you, chasing his own high. A few particularly rough thrusts punctuated by staggered moans let you know that he’s cumming.

Katsuki manages to plop right next to you, bed shifting under his weight. You lock eyes as you both try to catch your breaths. He gives you a quick smile before pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, one arm wrapping around you to pull you against him.

“So…” he starts, his eyes brimming with satisfaction, lips upturned into a smirk. He knows he’s won. “Ready for round 2?”

#katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #kat’s writing #kat’s demon time

5K notes · View notes

gingersnappish · 8 months

Text

A Big Collection of Art Tutorials

I find art tutorials really useful and also, sometimes quite far-flung. I'll come across one cool resource here and another incredibly helpful post in a totally different place, months later. I've been collecting bits and pieces of art advice that ease my way for a long time now, and I wanted to make a post to share some of the good art resources I've come found all in one place! GENERAL RESOURCES The Etherington Bros. have an enormous repertoire of drawing advice on their blog and I find almost all of it spot on! Griz and Norm have an incredible tumblr chock full of tutorials!

Drawing Den is a great tumblr that collects how-to-draw resources! Zephy.fr has some lovely free tutorials on their Insta (their main site is paid, but I've found the free resources to be quite helpful all on their own)

Sycra has a truly wonderful YT channel comprising a zillion vids on practically every topic - he's been going a long time and it's all excellent (his stuff on human anatomy and figure really fixed some difficulties for me)! DRAWING PEOPLE THIS is my favorite basic breakdown on expressions! A HELPFUL WAY to conceptualize drawing hair! People are complex - simplifying with CLEAR SILHOUETTE helps!

Aging or de-aging characters can be rough- THIS HELPS imo! WHEELCHAIRS are easy to get wrong if you don't have one/haven't studied how to draw them - and this is a very helpful remedy!

CLOTHES Hats are difficult to get sitting right and THIS POST helps a lot!

Suits and formal clothing can be A Lot: THIS LAYS IT OUT helpfully!

Historical Menswear is tricky: TRY THIS LINK by Shoomlah

And as always.... DON'T FORGET TO STRETCH YOUR HANDS!!!

(this makes a big difference in the long run, I can't emphasize enough that you oughta try a little stretching on the regular!)

#art tutorials #art resources #how to draw #art tips

2K notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 5 months

Text

Neteyam x female human reader x So‘lek

⋆｡° ✮ Look at this omg!!! 😩

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: threesome (mmf), spitroating, p in v, oral, hints of anal, size kink, praise, reader is basically their human sex toy but she’s into it (and so am i)

⋆｡° ✮ this is for my lovely @neteyamsyawntu and was definitely inspired by our conversation from yesterday 😌🩵

Forming an alliance between clans is a difficult task, but Neteyam has his ways of convincing different na’vi of importance to join the omatikaya. Everyone has a soft spot for something, it’s just about finding out what it is. And by the way the leader of the resistance had been ogling you the first time you met, Neteyam knew just what that soft spot was for him.

"You said you have more humans like her in your clan?" So‘leks voice is calm and steady as he eyes the warrior in front of him. Neteyams grins.

"Many. Like I said, I promise they can be trusted."

So‘leks gaze wanders down to where his hands are squeezing the delicate curves of your hips, so fragile under his touch. You’re warm and soft, and he uses his firm grip to pull you back against his deep thrusts. He enjoys the little noises you make around Neteyams cock, whenever his own brushes against your cervix with ease. Such a small little thing, he thinks.

Tilting his head, he admires the view of your back as it arches further, the faster he pounds you from behind. Despite the suffocating tightness of your sweet little cunt, there comes no sign of distress from you, only sounds of pleasure mixed with the clicking of the dog tags around his neck.

"She’s so tight", he chuckles lowly, his thumbs drawing soothing circles on your hips, "but she takes it so good."

"Hmh", Neteyam purrs proudly, brushing a gentle hand through your hair to keep them out of your face. "I trained her well. She’s always so eager to serve me, am I right? Such a good girl for me."

You make a gagging noise just as the tip of Neteyams cock hits the back of your throat, and then clench around So‘leks. They both appreciate the way you moan around his length in agreement, with low grunts and groans from deep within their chests.

"If all humans in your clan are like her, I’ll gladly join", the warrior smiles down at the little human almost fondly.

You whine and squirm between the two na‘vi, thick strings of saliva dripping from your mouth around Neteyams cock when he draws away. You moan louder as you finally catch a gasp of air, but it’s quickly muffled when he pushes his length all the way back inside your mouth. They continue to fuck you between their two lean bodies, pushing you back and forth, gentle but firm.

"Not all", Neteyam admits with a chuckle, "but if she likes you, I promise to share her again. That is, if you accept my offer and fight with us?"

It’s a question that hangs heavy in the air, and So‘lek is almost too distracted by the pulsing of your sweet pussy as you come around his throbbing length to find the words to respond to the other man. Your moans turn more high pitched as they both fuck you through it, and it amazes him how little effort it takes to get you trembling. He really could get used to this…

"So, are you in?" Neteyam asks, just as he tightens the grip on your hair and pushes your pretty, swollen lips further down his cock. He holds you there for a long moment, So‘lek watching your throat constrict around him as you swallow what he assumes is Neteyams cum, before he finally pulls you off again so you could catch a breath of much needed air.

It’s a tempting offer that only gets more appetizing when the na‘vi in front of you crouches down and seems to be whispering something in your tiny, round ear, before placing a tender kiss to your forehead. A flustered blush spreads over your cheeks as you suddenly shuffle into a different position, your back arching even more and your cheek resting on the cold hard floor now.

"Maybe that will help make up your mind, brother", Neteyam grins a knowing grin as you reach behind yourself and spread your ass for So‘lek to see, the small puckered hole clenching around nothing. The warrior swallows thickly at the sight.

He‘s still inside you, holding onto your hips and keeping himself buried to the hilt. What finally snaps him out of his admiration, is your whiny voice calling out for him.

"S-So‘lek", you whimper, pleading with those big round eyes staring back at him over your shoulder. Pleading for more, something, anything.

So‘leks gaze then meets Neteyams, who nods at him with a cocky smirk,

"Join us. I promise, you will benefit of this alliance."

1K notes · View notes

boyfhee · 6 months

Text

이희승 、SHARED VICE

heeseung has a bad habit, but with your help, he can fix it. unforeseeably, you turn out to be a bad influence instead.

ꔫ pairings : play boy! heeseung x fem reader ꔫ warnings : kissing, implications of smoking ꔫ notes : this was supposed to be a roommate series

“i thought i told you to clean up,” your voice takes in the way he fixes his t-shirt while looking in the mirror, pausing for a brief second as his eyes settle on you before travelling back to his reflection in front of him.

“giving me orders in my own room,” and he sounds a little too haughty, especially with the smirk that dances on his lips. his eyes travel down to you— up and down, as he looks at you with a teasing glint, kicking a few empty packets of snacks lying around his gaming setup aside.

“that’s a nasty habit,” you’re commenting this for the thousandth time ever since he moved in, the scoff that falls off his lips tells you how much he expected you to say the same words over again.

“everyone has one,” he shrugs, sighing as he pushes the keyboard further on the desk, leaning against it before his lips curl up into a cheshire grin as he leans down towards you. “you have too, i know about it; your very, very nasty habit,”

and you feel your breath get stuck in your throat, knowing a little too well where this conversation was heading. he stares at you for a while, finally bored as he sighs, getting up from the desk and taking a step towards you— careful not to break eye contact.

“i’m off, hope you clean this—” but you’re quick to react, taking a step back just as soon as he leans closer, looking away and pointing your index finger at the empty packets and unwashed clothes lying around. “—shit,”

“lend me a hand?” he leans back with a soft sight, slightly tilting his head to the side, the grin on his face never leaving. “i could really use some help here,”

“and why would i do that?”

“maybe, i can help you with your nasty habit in return,” he suggests with a certain innuendo, towering over you with a heavy gaze, one that figuratively makes it difficult for you to even move. “roommates need to look out for each other, right?”

and heeseung is a wrong deal in himself.

you’ve seen the way girls around the campus fawn over him and also the way they walk out of his room with tears. you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve come back to the apartment, seeing him with a new girl. you know better than gravitating straight towards him, although your heart keeps swerving. you hate his habits, he smells of cigarettes and the strawberry candies that keep his mouth busy during hours of valorant sessions. it’s a deadly combination, vinously so.

“i don’t know—”

“you can stare at me all you want while helping me clean the room,” another step towards you, another step back taken by you— and you’re against the edge of the bed, whipping your head around frantically as you almost stumble, although not sure if it’s because of his actions or the close proximity in between. “don’t you like to do that, pretty?”

or if it’s both.

“we’ve only been roommates for a while but i know exactly what you’re thinking right now,” he leans down further, lips almost brushing against yours. “do you think i haven’t noticed your eyes being all over me?”

your mouth is dry, mind rushing at thousand miles per minute to think of any words to defend yourself. you thought, you’ve been discreet with it— the stolen glances at him from across the room, the subtle smile on your lips whenever you two talk, despite most of it being just annoying banter. it wasn’t news to your friends when you told them about your little crush on your roommate, however you made sure to keep it a secret from him. he tilts his head to the other side, gazes switching between your eyes as your lips, the feeling incomparable to how you’re drawing him in.

“hee—” you’re cut off by the sudden movement of his arm around your waist, perhaps to keep you from falling down on the bed, but maybe it’s yet another excuse, this time made to hold you close, just enough to make you feel all the butterflies.

“maybe,” the words caress against your lips, making your head dizzy. “it’s a shared vice,” and before you could retract— his lips are yours, hands pulling you close by your waist to hold you in place, feverishly kissing you as you feel his tongue brush against your lips.

it's another nasty habit, one he can’t get rid of— the one he won’t get rid of, especially at the way your lips feel against his, it aligns with how he thought you’d taste. your hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt in nervousness and yet, you leave him breathless and intoxicated with the lack of air. it’s like a drug, gets worse the way your hands hesitatingly rest on his chest as he tilts your head, pulling you even deeper into the kiss. it’s an addiction, and good for heeseung, you’re just as hooked as him.

894 notes · View notes

mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

I saw the beautiful art of your Tav (and the AMAZING writing you’ve posted) and it inspired this headcanon request! Would you mind sharing your headcanons on how Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and any other of your favorite NPCs would react to giving and receiving flowers to and from the (feminine) reader? Thank you so much!!! <3

Aweeeee, thank you so much for the compliments!!! I would absolutely love to <3 <3

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Giving and receiving flowers from Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and Karniss

Masterlist

Flower Tav Drawing

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion -

Giving them flowers

~ It would be so nerve-wracking to give Astarion flowers, he’s such a perfectionist that you’d spend way too much time perfectly arranging the wild flowers you found

~ He would be so surprised that you put that much thought into it, looking over it with a teasingly critical gaze

~ He’d try pointing out that a few of them were actually weeds

~ As soon as your face would fall, he’d absolutely panic, giving as many compliments to the flowers as possible

~ “These are wonderful, darling.” He’d assure you, even letting you put a daisy behind his ear

~ Even though he acted judgmental of the gift, you caught him preening over the flowers. Watering and taking care of each little bud until they’ve wilted

Receiving flowers

~ Astarion would proudly bring you a bouquet, hiding it behind his back as he approached you smiling

~ When he finally presented them, you more than a little confused to see a bundle of thin greens with tiny unopened bulbs

~ You’d try your best to play along, not wanting to hurt his feelings since he had picked them out specifically

~ He’d roll his eyes knowingly, telling you to be patient to actually see the flowers

~ That night, he’d pull you into his arms and point you to the vase of greens you had left in the window

~ Much to your shock and awe, the tiny bulbs had opened into beautiful white flowers, blooming in the moonlight

Gale -

Giving them flowers

~ Gale would LOVE getting flowers from you

~ He’d make some dorky joke like “For me?”, looking behind him to anyone else who you could possibly be receiving flowers from

~ Unfortunately, you’d picked an array of flowering leaves that he was deathly allergic to

~ He would try so hard to appreciate the flowers and smell them to appease you, swallowing back the itching already starting around his eyes

~ The rest of the day would be spent with you apologizing, Gale showering you with affection, and the two of you trying every which way to ease his sniffles

~ Even after all of that, Gale would brave his allergies to keep one of your death flowers in amongst his things

Receiving

~ Gale had spent the entire day closed up in his room

~ You heard the occasional grumbling and shuffling, but other than that, there was no word from your wizard

~ Just when you were starting to get annoyed at the secrecy, Gale would pop open the door with a giant grin

~ He’d have you close your eyes, placing something heaving and cool in your hands

~ As soon as you opened your eyes, you see a beautiful pink rose. It glittered in the light, almost as if it were made of millions of tiny crystals

~ “It’s a forever rose. I made it especially for my forever person”

Wyll -

Giving them flowers

~ Wyll’s face would light up as soon as you presented him flowers

~ “How’d you know my favorite?” He’d say, sweeping you twirling into a hug.

~ He didn’t actually have a favorite flower before, but he after seeing your shy smile, he decided he definitely did have a favorite now ~ He’d wind them into a place let, showing you how to do the same with the thick vines

~He never took the bracelet off after that, it was almost impressive how long the crumbling flowers lasted

~ It would finally break during a particularly difficult battle, much to his dismay. But he spent the whole evening after looking for the exact same flower so he could make a new one

Receiving flowers

~ Wyll would wan’t the flowers to be absolutely perfect.

~ He’d spend the morning talking to every florist he could find, trying to remember the meanings of all the flowers

~ The more he “researched”, the more stressed he would get

~ Finally, he’d start the walk back to camp, feeling a little defeated that he couldn’t find anything that seemed perfect enough for you ~ Along the way, he passed by a patch of rain lilies, deciding it would be better to bring those than bring nothing

~ His heart stopped in his chest after he gave them to you, your misty eyes meeting him as you asked how he could’ve found your favorite flower

Halsin -

Giving them flowers

~ Halsin would be very pleasantly surprised by the flowers. Even in his long life, this was a first of sorts

~ He’d sit with you, smiling brightly, looking over all the flowers

~ He’d tell you the name of each and every one, telling you what they could be used in as well

~ In return, you’d show him how to weave a flower crown, trying to include every flower you had gathered

~ In the end, there wasn’t a prettier cave bear princess in the entire world

Receiving flowers

~ Halsin would know exactly where to find the best wild flowers, gathering a huge bouquet by the time he was done

~ They were a little slobbery from his cave bear form carrying them around, but he could wipe them off later

~ He’d lumber his way to you, not hearing the faint sound of buzzing

~ He didn’t understand why you shrieked so loud when he gave them to you, that is until he saw the flurry of bees that had accumulated around his bouquet of sweet smelling flowers

~ It took many kisses and close attention to scattered bee stings to get back into your good graces

Kar’niss -

Giving them flowers

~ Kar’niss didn’t know what to think as you gave him flowers, not familiar with the gesture

~ “Kar’niss can’t eat plants” He’d say with the most adorable confused look on his face

~ You couldn’t help but giggle and leave kisses all over his face. After, you explained that people gave each other flowers as a sign of affection

~ His cheeks would redden, shyly accepting the gesture

~ He treated the flowers so gently after, almost as if it were his newest prized possession

Receiving flowers

~ After learning about this brand new world of flowers, Kar’niss quickly became an expert

~ Anytime he saw even a tiny bloom, he’d scoop it up to bring to you ~ He kept his eyes peeled, not a single flower safe when the drider was near

~ You taught him how to care for the flowers, trimming them and keeping them in enough water to sustain

~ His graceful fingers found comfort in the menial task of caring for the plants. It always warmed your heart, knowing his careful consideration was just his way of showing his immense love for you

668 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 2 months

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets.

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think.

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body.

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew.

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year.

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand.

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works.

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?”

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place.

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did.

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter.

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face.

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks.

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls.

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to.

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her?

Will she even let you?

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment.

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt.

He has always been all she has and needed.

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing.

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard.

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control.

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class.

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even.

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls.

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug.

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully.

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice.

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up.

“Have it your way.”

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers.

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit.

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does.

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you.

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance.

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt.

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

583 notes · View notes

edenesth · 3 months

Text

[7:29 PM]

Stumbling into the shared apartment with Yeosang, you swiftly covered your mouth to suppress any whimpers upon seeing your boyfriend peacefully napping on the living room couch.

After carefully placing your heels by the shoe rack, you quietly tip-toed past his slumbering figure and slipped into your shared bedroom, closing the door behind you with utmost care to ensure he wasn't disturbed from his much-needed rest.

It was only upon reaching the sanctuary of your room that you collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down your face as you cradled your injured arm close. It had been a horrible day, marked by a minor accident at work amidst ongoing tensions with your boss and difficult encounters with customers. Throughout the day, you struggled to keep yourself together, merely waiting for this moment to release all pent-up emotions.

As you sobbed into your pillows, the door to the room creaked open, causing you to panic. Swiftly wiping away your tears, you sat up, trying to compose yourself.

"Darling, you're back already? Why didn't you come say hi to me first, hm? I've been waiting," Yeosang's voice greeted you as he entered the cosy space, "You know you could've just woken me up..."

His words trailed off as he noticed your bandaged arm and tear-stained cheeks, "I-I'm sorry, Yeo, it's just—" You couldn't stop the sobs escaping your lips at the sight of his concerned expression, cursing yourself internally for being such a crybaby.

Hearing your anguished cries, his heart clenched, and he swiftly moved to join you on the bed. He pulled you close, showering your head with tender kisses, "Hey, hey, it's okay. What happened to your arm? Are you alright? Please, talk to me, darling."

Your sobs only grew stronger in response to his care. Nestling your head against his neck, you stuttered out, "One of my c-colleagues didn't see me approaching and accidentally s-swung her envelope opener toward me. I tried to shield myself with my arm, and that's how..." You gestured to your injured arm, feeling miserable.

"I'm so sorry, darling. Why didn't you tell me? I could have picked you up from work if I had known you were hurt. And don't try to hide it from me; I know that can't be the only reason you're upset." He whispered, his lips gently pressing against your temple as he offered a comforting squeeze, careful not to worsen the pain in your arm.

The following words that left your lips broke his heart, "I d-didn't want to burden you with something so trivial, Yeo. You're already s-so busy; my work troubles must seem insignificant compared to yours."

Drawing back a bit, he cupped your face, meeting your tear-filled gaze, "What did I tell you about thinking like that? Your problems, no matter how minor you think they are, bother me if they bother you. I never want you to keep things from me again, understand? Promise me you'll always come to me first, no matter what."

He couldn't help but chuckle when your only response to that was an adorable wail, finding your vulnerability endearing as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder once more, "Y-you're the best boyfriend ever, Yeo. I l-love you so much."

Placing a gentle kiss against your hair, he grinned softly, "I love you too, darling. More than you can imagine. Now, I want you to tell me every single thing that happened at your workplace today. I'm not usually one for aggression, but I won't hesitate to deal with anyone who dared make you cry."

With a light giggle, you pulled away slightly, "Oh, you wouldn't, you little Maltese."

You squealed as he playfully tackled you onto the bed, glad to see you lightening up and teasing again as he leaned in for a firm kiss.

"A Maltese, huh? I'll show you a Doberman."

ATEEZ Masterlist

This was super self-indulgent. I had a horrible day and ended up getting hurt in a rather similar fashion yesterday. Also wanted to show Yeosang some love after all the hate he's received for his role in my current Seonghwa series HAHA

Speaking of which, part 14 of The Way to His Heart should be out by this weekend! Hang in there, my lovelies! As always, thanks for reading and lmk your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @cereal-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #ateez timestamps #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #ateez drabbles #yeosang drabble #yeosang fluff #ateez fic #ateez imagines

489 notes · View notes

pakhnokh · 10 months

Text

House of Gentians Arc 2 || Pages 163-168 END

Wei Ying: Sorry, I can't let Lan Wangji hold me by the waist like that again ;___;

Me: Goddammit, alright, have it your way, but I'm going to draw the most intense panels of you putting your hands on his shoulders. Is Lan Wangji flinching cause it's Wei Ying who's touching him so fiercely? Is it the fact that his scars that are barely healed yet hurt from that grip? You decide!

ARC 2 EXTRAS FOR PАТRОNS Extra mini comic: The Dog Art pieces Extra mini comic: Cornetto commercial

ARC 2 Complete PDF with extras ARC 3 (TBA)

PREVIOUS PART

ABOUT+TABLE OF CONTENTS

IMPORTANT NOTE: Always be sure to click on my profile and check for updates because if you see a random part reblogged IT MIGHT NOT BE THE EDITED VERSION WITH THE WORKING LINK TO THE NEXT PART ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Arc 2 has come to its end! Yes, I can't believe it too. It's been 11 months since I posted the arc's cover image. I've been through so much since then, so much of my life has changed and yet working on this project, providing 4 pages every week, was somewhat of a blessed constant and fairly, I'm going to miss it.

I have to say that I'm very grateful to you, the readers, because your excitement with this story and the wonderful comments and questions and interest and insights you left on each part is what kept me going and also helped me understand my story better, so THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! A HUGE THANK YOU TOO FOR MY PАТRОNS!!!! I wouldn't have been able to do NONE of it if it weren't for your amazing support. You have no idea how grateful I am that you are giving me the opportunity not only to create this story for you and for others, but to also develop myself further as an artist (this is the first time I do a long comic of such a scale and by thinking about you when I make updates every week, I think how much better I can make my work). Your support is also a huge help with my daughter, not only because you help me provide for her, but also because in spite of the fact that taking care of her gets more and more difficult, you being there keeps me motivated to not give up on drawing and succumb to 100% life of a mother and a housewife. You save me <3.

So what now? Now I will work on extras for members of the peke-king tier on my Pатrеоn. I will create extra comic pages, a few more arts, and a funny comic strip. When all of that is done, I will create the PDF and upload it to the shared drive (I think this arc+extras is going to be about 200 pages!!) after that, I will take a break from HoG to finish other MDZS projects I halted, and after those are done I will take a break entirely to reread MDZS and consume all its media again, so I will remember forgotten parts and get that spark ready for Arc 3! So absolutely stay tuned! Thank you all again for being with me in this journey, and hope you enjoyed the story! <3

#house of gentians #wangxian #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #pakhnokh #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #comic #yiling laozu #GoDC #AU #Yiling Patriarch

2K notes · View notes

a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

Note

i just had a really cute idea- What about reader after the birth of her baby with Alastor feeling a bit insecure about strech marks ? how does Alastor make her feel loved?

FUCK I LOVE THIS

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Body issues, Suggestive?

Description: ☝️⬆️

At first, Alastor doesn't even notice the insecurities you're having over your body, too busy learning how to be a proper father

No amount of parenting books could prepare him for the overwhelming love he feels for his children

It takes so much effort for him to even put his children down and leave a room- you don't understand

Bedtime is hard for papa too

But little things about you start to tip him off that something has been wrong with you lately

At first, he blames it on lack of sleep, which is something you both are becoming familiar with

Or maybe you're not eating right, too busy looking out for your babies and the hotel

He just knows that you won't hardly let him touch you anymore, something he didn't realize he craved until he was suddenly deprived of it

You're sitting and feeding the babies? He wants to kiss and nuzzle at your neck because the sight is so cute

"Motherhood looks very good on you, darling~"

At first you're receptive to it, tilting your head and sighing happily until his fingers ghost over your stomach

"Actually, can you take over for me? I have to go-do something."

And he's left alone with his just as confused looking children

Then suddenly, there's baby food being thrown at his face and his babies are howling with joy

Lovely

Maybe you're stressed, being a new mother is difficult

So he resolves to take the babies off your hands for the day, something that you're grateful for

And when he manages to put his spawns down for a nap, he even draws you a bath, thinking you two could share it

It's a romantic one, bubbles and candles all around maybe even a flower or two

"Darling, there's a hot bath waiting for you and I if you're interested..?"

You're visibly stiff again, looking uncomfortable and shy like back when you first got together with him

"Could I just have the bath to myself..?"

It wasn't what he was planning, but he could never tell you no

But it is concerning to him when you lock the door behind you

You don't even change in front of him anymore, another little bit of intimacy and trust that he suddenly misses

Then he starts to notice that the mirror in your bedroom has been covered, and new creams have appeared in the bathroom and-

Carrying babies does tend to change one's body

He's seen what happened with your own but he never thought you would become insecure about it

So Alastor, being the good husband he is, resolves to remedy the situation between you two

He crawls into bed with you one night, waiting until you're nearly asleep to wrap his arms around you

You're jolted awake in an instant, feeling his chest against your back and his hands on your stomach

Touching and stroking your stretch marks

You go to pull away but his grip is firm, keeping you in place, voice light but genuine

"You're never not going to be my beautiful wife..."

You're so thankful for the darkness of the room, you don't want him to see the tears in your eyes or the marks on your stomach

Even though a small part of you knows he can see it anyways, it's less embarrassing for you

Damn these hormones of yours, your body still hasn't fully recovered from your pregnancy

And then he's rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck to your chest, then down to your stomach

His hands push up your pajamas to expose your skin to him, and you can tell that he doesn't need the light to see what's there

He stops you from covering the marks, kissing them instead and gazing at you with eyes full of warmth

"You were so proud of these before..."

You have to look away from him, overcome with emotions so strong that your voice comes out thick with it

"I'm not pregnant anymore."

"As if that makes you any less beautiful, these are just marks of our history together. I love them."

And he's kissing them again, moving back up to kiss you as gentle claws rub over each stretch mark and scar

You eventually can't help but melt into his touch, having missed him more than you realized

It's a good night between you two and you wake up feeling better than you have in awhile

It's still a slow going process accepting your new body, but Alastor is patient, eager to woo his wife all over again

It's almost like you two are back to the start of the relationship

You know that part of him only loves the marks so much because it's proof of what he did for you, how far he would go to make you happy

Also, because he loves you

And soon you start to love them too, associating them with your love for your family

Eventually you two are back to bathing together, changing together, being sickeningly affectionate behind closed doors

Not always behind closed doors

And when they do start to fade you almost miss them, rubbing over the marks in longing

Looking over at your husband playing with the children, a dangerous thought enters your mind

Maybe Alastor wouldn't mind another baby or two?

Maybe more

I love these asks so much ♥️

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

938 notes · View notes

hyypnotix-writes · 7 months

Text

Part 3

~ howdy! it's here ..I don't fully know how I feel about it, I might keep editing it at another point, but I've taken the piss with keeping you waiting for so long, I just want you to have something ~

~ it's long - I thought the other two were bad enough but this is longer than both of them combined. it's 26k words so I'm very sorry, and I do understand if that's too much for any of you ~

~ I don't know how to break it up to make it easier, or more fun, for you to read. I hope it doesn't put all of you off, but unless you're an incredibly quick reader ..you will probably have to read this one when you genuinely have nothing else to do ~

~ I'm not sure how well this chapter will go down, this could well be the end of our little journey together ~

~ I've had a lot of fun writing for all of you if it is, despite me stressing myself out with it! you've all been very kind and lovely, and however you've enjoyed any part of my writing, I've really appreciated every interaction ~

~ whether you liked, reblogged, or sent me a little message - every single one of you has made me smile, so I really hope this doesn't disappoint any of you too much! ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

Part 1 Part 2

________________

Rain is absolutely not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to Barcelona with your sister. Travelling all the way to sunny Spain, and bringing the bloody British weather with you as you go? What a horrible little joke.

You’re not going to be the sun-kissed envy of your friends if it stays like this, you’ll be going back to London even paler than you were when you left it.

The rainfall dribbles down the outside of the window, opposite where you rest your forehead, and a mournful sigh escapes your lips as you look out at the abysmal sight of the city streets down below. You draw a smiley face with your finger, where your breath fogged up the glass, and you try to mirror the expression on your own face as you extract yourself from the pane and flop back down onto the bed with a very dramatic groan.

It’s already been one of the longest mornings of your life, and it’s only just turned 10:00.

Sleep eluded you once again last night. Every hour, on the hour, you watched the clock tick over. Seconds suspending themselves in the air, minutes moving like molasses, as you counted infinite sheep in your head. Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say, but boy does it drag its heels when you’re praying for it to soar.

Despite your fun little belief that you might’ve finally been sleeping soundly last night, it didn’t actually come to fruition. It turns out that it’s quite difficult for someone to fall asleep after finding out that the woman they’re falling for has secretly been a famous sporting icon the whole time that they’ve known her. Who’d have thought?

It’s still a little hard for you to wrap your head around. The fact that she’s a bit famous, and her celebrity status stems from football of all things. Even with detective skills as exceptional as yours, that possibility never crossed your mind.

Exhaustion is starting to plague your body after so many restless nights, and the antisocial behaviour you’re demonstrating because of it, isn’t largely appreciated by your sister. Abandoning Em to go and have breakfast on your own, before she had chance to wake up and join you, wasn’t a deliberate act of cruelty from you, you genuinely thought you were doing her a favour by letting her have a lie in.

You are on holiday together, though, so she didn’t fully enjoy waking up alone in your shared hotel room. She made that much abundantly clear to you, with the countless strongly worded text messages that you received as you awkwardly traipsed back upstairs to apologise to her.

A silent and forceful barging into your shoulder was all that greeted you, as you returned to the room and she made her exit from it.

It’s unfortunate. She’s in a pissy mood, the weather’s in a pissy state, and you have to go to a pissing football match later on this evening. What a cruel world it is that you’re living in.

It’s very unnatural that your one saving grace of the day is the pissing football match that you have to attend. That being one of the highlights of your holiday, really won’t make much sense at all to any of your friends when you tell them about it.

You stare longingly at your phone for a while, tapping your fingers over your torso as you wait for Em’s return from breakfast. You let out a soft sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling, before gently closing your eyes, in the futile hopes of having a quick nap. The darkness behind your eyelids allows your mind to wander all too freely. Which it very quickly does, to more thoughts of Alexia. The same way that it has done, since the very first moment that she so casually waltzed into your life.

This morning, however, it’s not thoughts of confusion, that cloud your brain. Sexuality concerns and hopeless pining are far from the forefront of your mind. It’s excitement that envelops you, anticipation. The fact that you’ve found your impossible-to-find woman, and that she’s no longer impossible for you to find at all. She may very well be one of the easiest people to locate, in all of Barcelona, as it happens. Knowing that you get to see her, at least one more time again this evening, even if it’s only from a distance, is a promise that has an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and your heart doing cartwheels inside of your chest.

There’s the distinct feeling of potential that hangs in the air for tonight. You can’t pretend that you’re not feeling hopeful about seeing her a little bit more up-close-and-personal than just from your seat in the stands. You’d quite like to be able to congratulate her, if the scoreline goes in her favour.

You pull the neck of Alexia’s sweatshirt up over your face, in an attempt to fully bring the possibilities to life in the playground of your imagination, and you let out another sigh as you rest your hand over your stomach.

It really doesn’t smell enough like her anymore, but it still your favourite item of clothing, as it is still very much hers. It’s the most effective key for unlocking your memories with her, and you breathe it in deeply, as you let your thoughts of her consume you.

You really are feeling desperately needy, you’ve already been in this position once this morning.

It’s not a hunger that’s ever infiltrated your body and mind quite so fervidly. You’re not a particularly clingy person, you’re not usually so obsessive, or lustful. You’re certainly hot-blooded, and you know how to enjoy yourself, but there’s never normally this type of craving in you for another person.

Having your mind be so fanatical about someone else really isn’t something that’s ever overcome you quite so powerfully. It’s a rare sort of desire in you, that only she’s been able to spark, and it’s proving very difficult to satiate it.

Your hand wanders slightly, as she takes over your head, the tips of your fingers trailing the waistband of your shorts, before the excessively loud opening and closing of the hotel room door, abruptly halts you from getting too invested in your fantasies.

You turn your attention to your sister, removing your fingers with an unfortunate twang, as the elastic hits back down your skin, and you slowly free your face as she obliviously trudges across the room.

You offer up an apologetic smile for abandoning her earlier, as she places her coffee on the table, and, with a piece of toast dangling from her mouth, she smiles back at you, the power of a full stomach seemingly diluting her previous feelings of anger.

Her smile quickly contorts into a mischievous little grin, and there’s a glint in her eye, as she pounces on the bed.

“Are you good?” You chuckle, as she rummages next to you, but she doesn’t gift you with any verbal reply. It’s your phone that she’s interested in, you realise, and you hold out your hand, for her to return it to you. “Behave.” You warn her, but she only giggles at the unlocked screen and shakes her head at you.

“Do you have a new girl crush?” She mocks, goading you as she waves the device in front of your face. “Big into Alexia Putellas, are we?”

“I was just ..familiarising myself.” You tell her, shuffling yourself a little, as a soft pink hue rushes to your cheeks.

“Is that what you’re calling it?” She scoffs. “You know, I also tend to search for someone’s back tattoos when I’m trying to memorise their face!”

“I was— I ..can I have my phone back, please?” You sigh, giving up on any attempt at trying to defend yourself.

You don’t need to defend yourself to her. You like Alexia’s tattoos, and simply wanting to see them again, is merely an appreciation of art. That’s entirely innocent enough. It wasn’t a perverse search; it didn’t come from a sinful place.

The fact that it immediately triggered flashbacks to you tracing over all of them with your lips, really wasn’t exactly your fault. It was unintentional, an almost reflex response from you.

Letting yourself get mildly carried away with remembering how Alexia had kissed along your own body and how her lips had this wonderfully curious tendency of just always roaming down. The little knot that tied itself in your stomach, and your breath hitching as you relived the eye contact that she made with you before she had your back arching under her.

That’s all a little less innocent, maybe, but it still wasn’t deliberate. It couldn’t be helped; it was just an automatic reimagining of events.

You’re allowed to do that, they’re your memories. It’s entirely permissible for you to take a little journey through them every once in a while. It’s been over a month for you, and you have some overdue frustrations. That’s not a crime, you’re not a pervy creep.

“You have a real thing for Spanish women at the minute, huh?” Em recognises, pulling you from your dirty thoughts again as she drops your phone down onto your stomach and takes another bite of her breakfast.

“Mhmm. I quite like her tattoos.” You tell her casually, and she smiles back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Whenever you’re ready for me to do your next one, let me know!”

“Mm.” You mumble, as you feel the ink on your rib cage begin to sear under her stare.

You really do like tattoos, but there’s a reason that you only have the one on you. Your distinct lack of body art probably doesn’t seem like the greatest advertisement for your sister’s abilities, but it’s your own indecisiveness, and aversion to needles, that’s stopped you from getting too many, not her deficiency of talent. Maybe you’re a little bit squeamish, but it really did hurt.

“You’re a big baby.” She laughs at you as you rub at the side of your body, trying to relieve the faint burning of your skin, and she claps the remnants of toast crumbs from her hands onto the floor, as she lays next to you. “What do you fancy doing today?” She asks you. “I’m sorry about the shit weather, that’s kinda fucked with your tanning plans.”

“It’s not really your fault, but I was going to ask for your help, actually. If you’re feeling a little guilty?”

“Oh?” She turns her head, furrowing her brow at you, her interest piqued, and you let out a sigh as you swallow your pride.

“I was hoping, maybe you’d help me learn some football things.”

“Football things?” She scoffs, but you don’t let her mockery deter you, as you nod at her decidedly.

“Mhmm.”

The back of Em’s hand very quickly finds itself pressed against your forehead with a quiet little smack, and you scrunch up your face in confusion as she frowns down at you.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, yes!” You sigh, pushing her arm away from you to stop her from checking your temperature. “I’d just like to know some things. Stop me from going into the match so blind.”

She narrows her eyes, considering you for a moment. “What do you want to know?” She asks, and you wince at the freedom she’s granted you.

“Just like ..players’ names, probably? I think that’d be helpful. Maybe some basic rules.” You shrug.

She continues frowning at you, and you buckle a little under the intensity of her stare.

“What?”

“You’ve never cared before..” she reminds you, the suspicion in her eyes only increasing, as you release a small huff through your nose.

“That’s not really true..” You try to start arguing, but it’s a completely pointless activity, you’re both far too aware that you’re completely lying.

Football has existed for your entire life, and you’ve been interested in it, a grand total, of zero times, before now. You find out that it’s Alexia’s favourite thing to do, and you suddenly want to know everything you can about it. It's entirely tragic of you, and it's too convoluted of a confession to share with your sister right now. She was useless enough when you admitted to a single kiss with another woman, trying to explain all of this mayhem would absolutely break her little brain.

“I’ve definitely cheered with you a couple of times!” You offer and she shakes her head, laughing loudly at you.

“No no no!” She states. “Quietly saying ‘woo team’ when I tell you someone’s scored, is not cheering with me! I told you Rachel Daly scored once, and you still threw your fist in the air!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“She plays for Aston Villa!” She points out, smacking your shoulder, and you let out another tiny huff. “I could tell you that Emma Hayes had scored, and you wouldn’t question it.”

“Why would that be weird, is she the goalkeeper?”

“For fuck’s sake!” She sighs, scraping her hands down over her face. “She’s the manager.”

Yikes. You really are an idiot.

“Well.. okay..” you wince, “and that’s why I need your help.”

“Why does it matter?” She asks. “This’ll be the only match you ever watch.”

“Maybe, but I quite like the woman who gave me that shirt.” You admit, gazing over at it as you play with the hem of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. “I don’t want to let her down by knowing nothing.”

“Will she be there today?”

“Mhmm.”

Em contemplates for a moment, and you know that look in her eyes, she’s about to cave in. You sit up on the bed, readying yourself to deliver the final blow to her composure.

“Please?” You say, pouting with a perfectly rehearsed, quivering bottom lip.

“Nooo! Not the puppy dog eyes.” She groans, averting her gaze from you to try and stay strong. You don’t back down, and she lets out a pathetic cry of defeat when she catches your expression again.

“There’s not much else for us to do until this rain stops.” You point out innocently.

“That’s not true! There’s that aquarium you wanted to go to?”

It’s a valid point from her, but rather incredibly, it’s no longer as appealing an option to you. You want to embrace football today. It’s important to Alexia, and she’s becoming important to you. As such, football ..is also important ..to ..well, no. Let’s not push it. She isn’t your girlfriend; you don’t need to be football’s number one fan just yet. Football will be tolerated by you, until further notice.

You plead to your sister again, adding a small sniffle after your words for extra impact, and her resolve is positively crumbling in front of you.

“You’re really serious, you want to learn about football?”

“Mhmm!” You grin, excitedly crossing your legs, to fully show that you mean business. “Please!”

“Fine.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes at your childish little excitement.

“Thank you!” You grab her head to place a kiss to the top of it, and she quickly pushes you off of her. “I’d just like to know enough, though.” You clarify, before she starts getting too carried away with her lesson planning. “Just enough to stop me from looking like a fool.”

“Well, steady on.” She snorts, with a roll of her eyes as she reaches for her sketch pad from the nightstand. “We’ve only got a day!”

There’s a lot of information for you to learn it turns out, and you really hope Alexia’s worth all of this relentless studying you’ve subjected yourself to.

It isn’t just her teammates that you end up memorising. Em also makes sure to teach you some footballing fundamentals, what ‘being offside’ really means, how the Champions League works, and she takes a great twisted pleasure in letting you know that tonight’s game of all games, could go to extra time and penalties, if no side is able to score more sodding goals than the other.

You’re definitely being tested. 90 minutes is all that you signed up for when you agreed to watch the football, not a possible 120 with the looming threat of a penalty shootout attached to it. It’s entirely far too much. Why the hell is this Alexia’s favourite thing to do? Why are you still so into her? This is unbearable.

It proves a little hard for you to keep concentrating on all of the facts that your sister keeps throwing at you, but she very quickly realises, that letting you watch some of Alexia’s highlights at irregular intervals, keeps you from getting too bored with everything else.

It quite amusing to you, to see Alexia wearing the captain’s armband, if you can believe. This nightclub nuisance, taking on a leadership role? That doesn’t seem right at all.

Club captain, best on the team, best in the world? Turns out, it’s you that has the impeccable taste in women.

She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.

There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.

It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.

It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.

It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.

This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.

She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.

You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.

That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?

Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.

Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.

The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.

Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.

Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.

She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.

You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.

Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.

“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.

“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.

“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.

“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.

“Of course, you do.”

“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”

“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.

“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”

“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.

“The usual way.”

“A man sucked on your neck?”

“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”

She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”

“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”

“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”

“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”

She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.

“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”

“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.

“Be less annoying!” She begs.

“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.

“Traitorous.” She grumbles.

“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.

Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.

It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.

You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.

“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.

‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman. She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.

“What?”

“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”

You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.

“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”

There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.

“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”

“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”

“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.

“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”

“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”

“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.

“Is he nice?”

“Mhmm.”

“Is he attractive?”

“Mhmm.”

“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.

“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.

“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”

“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”

“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”

“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”

“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.

“Thanks, Em.”

“Ugly cheating bast—”

“Okay, Em. Enough.”

“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“

“Enough!”

“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.”

“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.”

“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.

“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.”

“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.

“I thought I already told you that.”

“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?”

“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.”

You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.

“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”

“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”

“But it’s linked?”

“Enough, please.”

“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”

“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”

“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”

“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”

“Don’t justify it.”

“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”

“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”

“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.

“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”

“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”

You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.

“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.

“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”

“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.

You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.

She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.

“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.

“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”

“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.

A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.

It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.

The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.

You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.

Right?

Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.

She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.

Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.

Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun!

The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.

You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.

Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.

You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.

An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.

This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.

This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.

“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.

“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”

“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”

Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?

Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.

It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?

Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.

There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!

It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.

How could you not?

If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.

Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.

Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.

Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?

Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?

Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it.

She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.

Damn.

What a loser, you are.

Shit.

Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?

You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?

That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.

Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.

Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.

“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.

“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.

“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.

You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.

Woo!

“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.

“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”

Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.

Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.

Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.

She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration..

You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.

She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.

She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.

“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.

“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.

It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.

It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.

If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.

That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.

That’s all you get.

You’re already out of the race.

You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.

Good grief!

What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it!

“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.

“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.

“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”

“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”

“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”

“Mhmm! And that?”

“Not a bloody clue!”

“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.

“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”

“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”

“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”

“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.

You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.

Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.

You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.

Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.

She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.

‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.

‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.

She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.

“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.

“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?”

“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”

“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”

“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.

“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”

“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.

“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”

You really are a shameless little hypocrite.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.

It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.

All for a girl, what has gotten into you?

The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.

Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.

There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.

You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.

You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.

Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.

Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.

She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.

It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.

You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.

Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.

The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.

It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.

You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”

The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.

“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.

“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.

“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”

“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.

“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”

“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.

“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.”

The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.

“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.

“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.

“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.”

“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?”

“Mhmm.”

“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.

It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home.

Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.

It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question?

“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.

“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.”

“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.

“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.”

“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.”

“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.”

You suddenly find yourself, very stressed.

It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.

She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.

The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one’s able to break the deadlock.

Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.

You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.

You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.

A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.

You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.

Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.

She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.

Get up. Please get up.

Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.

Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.

Please get up. Just get up.

The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.

“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.

You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.

Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.

You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.

Just get up.

Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.

It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.

Get up. Please.

Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.

It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.

Get. Up.

This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.

This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?

What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.

Please. Get up.

After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.

They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.

You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.

You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.

“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.

“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”

“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.

The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.

You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?

You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.

The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.

You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.

Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.

You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.

The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.

You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.

You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?

Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself.

What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.

Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.

She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you.

It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”

“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”

“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”

“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”

“Mm.”

She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.

“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.

“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”

Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.

She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.

“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.

“We can hang out again tomorrow?”

“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!”

She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”

“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”

“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really. Thanks. Go, have fun.”

She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.

“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.

It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.

Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.

A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.

She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.

It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.

You’re biting at your thumb again.

The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.

The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.

This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.

You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.

You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.

You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.

You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.

You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.

Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.

You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is.

You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.

You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.

You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.

Maybe it’s too strong.

It’s impossibly strong.

It’s a delusional level of strong.

You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.

It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up.

“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.

You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number.

You can get a clean break.

Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.

There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.

You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.

You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.

There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed.

You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.

You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.

But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to.

She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.

You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.

This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.

You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.

She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.

There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.

“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.

“Gràcies.”

“Is your knee okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.

“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.

“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”

“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”

Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.

There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.

You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.

“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.

You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.

She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.

“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”

“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.

You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.

“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.”

It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.

Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.

It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.

If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.

It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.

You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.

But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.

Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.

She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.

Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.

There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.

There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?

She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.

She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.

You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.

There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.

“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.

“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.

“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”

“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.

“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”

The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!”

“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”

“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”

You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.

“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.

“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.

“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.

“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.

“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”

“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.

“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”

“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”

“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.

There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.

Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.

It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.

It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.

“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.

She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.

“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”

“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”

“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”

“Mm. She left me.”

“Why?”

“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”

“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”

She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.

“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”

“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.

It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.

“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.

“Mhmm.”

“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.

You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”

“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.

“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.

“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”

“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.

“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”

Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.

“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.

“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”

There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you��d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.

“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”

You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.

“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”

You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.

Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.

“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.

“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”

She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.

“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.

“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”

“Mm.”

“And you worried about me getting hurt?”

“Mm.”

“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.

“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.”

“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.

“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.

“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.”

“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you.

“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.”

Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.

“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.

She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”

She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.

“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”

“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss.

“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.”

“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?”

“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.

“That could be a lot of work.”

“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..”

“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?”

“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.”

“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.”

“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.”

The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her.

It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.

Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.

“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her.

“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.

“There’s so many eyes watching you.”

“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.”

“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.”

She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.”

“Do you not get nervous at all?”

“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.”

There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.

“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.”

“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.

“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.

“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”

You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”

“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.

“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.

“That must seem ridiculous to you.”

“Not at all. Are you good at it?”

“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.”

“Have you really?” She giggles.

“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?”

“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.”

She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.

It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.

She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.

“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.

“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.

She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.”

“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.

“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.

“Shit! For being drunk and angry?”

“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.”

A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.

“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!”

“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?”

You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.

“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.

“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.”

A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.

You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.

“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.”

She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.

“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.”

“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!”

“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.

“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.”

“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.”

Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.”

“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.”

“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!”

“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.”

“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!”

“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.”

“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!"

“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.

“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.”

“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.”

“That was an accident.”

“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.

“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?”

“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.

“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.”

“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!”

“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.”

“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.

“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.”

She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.”

“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.

“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.”

“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.”

“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.”

It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.

There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.

You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.

All on her own. In the shower.

Alone.

Showering.

You really just can’t help yourself.

She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.

“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.

“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised.

“Mhmm.”

“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.

“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!”

“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.

She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.

This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are.

She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.

“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!”

“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.

“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.

“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.”

“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.”

“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.”

“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—”

“Uno.”

“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.

You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.

“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.

“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.

“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.”

“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.

“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!”

“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.

“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.

“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”

It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.

It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.

She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.

Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.

“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.

It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.

She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.

There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.

“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.

You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.

Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.

You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.

“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.”

This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.

Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.

“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.

“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“

“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..”

“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.

“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.”

“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.

“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.”

She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.

“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.”

“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.

“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."

“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.

“After our shower ..yes please.”

“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.

She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.

It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.

Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.

You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.

“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.

“No..”

“Then we’ll go back to mine.”

“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?”

“She is.”

“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.

“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.

“Is she unfriendly?”

“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.

“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?”

“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!”

It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.

She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin.

“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?”

“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.

It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.

There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.

“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.

“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything.”

She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.

“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.

It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.

“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens.

“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.

“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.”

“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.”

“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.”

“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.

“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.”

“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.”

“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?”

Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.

“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.”

“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.

“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.

“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.

“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?”

“You’d prefer me to come from London?”

“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.”

“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!”

Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance.

It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.

You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.

“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.

“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.

“Now we might have to worry about it.”

You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.

“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.”

Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.

“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.”

“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her.

“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.”

A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye.

“These are all your trophies?”

“..Some of them.”

“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.”

“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.”

“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.”

Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss.

“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi!”

It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.

“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom.

“I don’t care.”

You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.

It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.

There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself.

“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.

“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?”

“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.”

“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?”

“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.

It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.

There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are.

There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her.

Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.

This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you.

It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.

“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.

“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.

“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.

She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.

“Do I have something on me?”

“No..”

“Well ..now you’re staring.”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you okay?”

“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.

“What?”

“Children.” She repeats.

“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.”

“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?”

“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.”

“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.”

She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.”

A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.

“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.

“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.”

“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.”

“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.

“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.”

“Do you want to?”

“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!”

“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?”

“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.

“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.”

“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.

“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.

“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.”

“Would that scare you, dating a woman?”

“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.”

“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.”

“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.”

She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.”

She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.

It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.

It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.

There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.

It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.

And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest.

You’re already in love with this woman.

“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.”

“Mhmm ..I’m fine.”

She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head.

“You can talk to me.”

“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.”

“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.”

“I know, I just—”

She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—”

You cut her off this time.

It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other.

“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.”

It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.

“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?”

“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.

“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.

“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.

“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.”

“I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“You’d better be.” You tell her.

She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh.

“Are you quite comfy?”

“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.”

“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.

“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.”

“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.”

Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.

“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.”

“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently.

“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.

“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

848 notes · View notes