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#and the second part would be like ''to help him''
thinkinonsense · 2 days
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SEVEN DAYS
x2!logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: desperate!logan, eating reader out, fingering, squirting?
masterlist
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the mission was only supposed to last for two days. forty-eight hours and he would return home to you. instead it was dragged out much longer than it needed to be.
logan wanted nothing more than to be home in your arms instead of a motel room alone, painfully hard, trying to tune out scott snore on the other side of the wall.
so, on thursday afternoon when him, scott, and storm returned to the mansion, logan wasted no time hunting you down. he could smell you the second he walked through the front door; you were in charles office. charles, hank, jean, and you were meeting to discuss a new experiment when logan bursts through the door.
"logan! pleasure for you to join us." hank announces.
your head snaps up from your scribbling to see that your lover has returned safely. he looked like a lion ready to pounce on a naivë little lamb.
"just came by to pick something up." logan answers, ignoring everyone else in the room as he made a b-line for you.
"hey, baby–"
within seconds, logan lifts you up over his shoulder and out of the leather seat. you squeal, dropping your notepad and pen. your kitten heels kick his abs as your squirm in his arms.
"logan!" you hiss, swatting his toned back as he turns around to walk out of the room, unphased. "what the hell! put me down!"
he ignores you, pulling down your dress to cover your behind from your co-workers. no one was shocked by logan's actions. the man wasn't a patient person by any means. they all watched as you left over logan's shoulder, face blushing with embarrassment.
when logan finally shut your guys bedroom door, he placed you down on the edge of your bed; yet to say a word to you. instead, he falls straight to his knees in front of you. his big callous hands, rubs the soft skin of your inner thighs, opening your legs.
logan couldn't help but moan when he saw the pretty lacy light blue panties you were wearing. you could see the neediness in his eyes as he licked his lips. before he can remove your underwear, you cradle his face in your much smaller palms.
"you alright, baby?" you ask, looking down at him.
similarly to a cat, logan rubs the scruff of his beard against your thigh, pressing his nose against the thin panties; inhaling the scent of your arousal. you run a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp softly before your fingers tugging on the kitten tuffs, making him whimper against your pussy.
"mhm..." he manages to say. "i missed you."
"aw, i missed you–"
"missed your scent, your lips, your mouth..." his words are muffled as he kisses you messily over the lace. "missed this fuckin' pussy so much."
you gasp when he pulls down the soaked material and moves back for a second to look at you. he spreads you apart with his thumbs, watching you twitch and clench at the cool air hitting your pussy. she was warm, wet, and welcoming to him. logan couldn't imagine a better way to spend the rest of his day.
"there's my favorite girl." logan smiles before spitting right on your button and latching his mouth onto you. you moan loudly as he talks to your pussy, acting as if you weren't even in the room.
"you've missed me too, huh, pretty girl?" he moans incoherently as his tongue runs over core.
it's a struggle to keep your eyes open but it was worth the sight of logan's head in between your legs. the noises he made with your slick were unbelievably lewd.
"must've missed me a lot." you giggle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps your legs around his head.
"you've got not fuckin' idea." he mumbles into your folds. spit and slick pooled onto the sheets that laid under you as logan feasted.
logan looks up at you and fears he might cum just from the image of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth slightly parted as you sing his praise of 'right there, logan!', 'such a good boy for me'.
the 'good boy' comment threw logan's mind into a frenzy. he needed to hear you. he needed to be surrounded by your presence. two of his fingers dip into you, fast and rough. your thighs squeeze his head, threatening to pop it right off his body.
there was no time to warn him before your high hit. logan slurped up every bit of honey you had to offer him. you reach down for the hand that wasn't busy locating your sweet spot and place it on your tit. logan could feel your heartbeat and it only sent him further on his spiral, adding a third finger and repeatedly hitting that spot that made you see fireworks.
"i c-can't, logan" you mewl, wiggling back from logan's tongue. he catches you, latching back onto your button. "it's too m-much!"
"she's takin' me just fine." his voice is muffled against you in the dirtiest way possible.
the pressure builds in your tummy. there were no words in your brain at this point, moaning and babbling about nothing.
"that's the spot, huh?" he groan, smirking up at you. logan's fingers twist up, slamming against that gummy spot deep in your walls.
the motion caused you to let out more slick than you ever had before, gushing on logan's face. you can hear him curse as he licks you clean.
“it’s only been seven days, you know?” you giggle, trying to catch your breath.
he climbs up your body to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself. you moan into his mouth, as logan grinds down on you, needing more.
“seven days too long, sweetheart.”
⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒
a/n: just something short n sweet before i post part 2 of dad!logan x teacher!reader <3
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lisenberry · 1 day
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Thoughts on the first time you give your man a back rub after a long day. (Some of them are nicer about it than others.)
nsfw/mdni/18+/daddy stuff
Simon - He's never been touched like that before. Who would voluntarily reach out to offer him comfort? He doesn't exactly scream "pet me, I don't bite." It makes him ticklish, but he's not the type to giggle and shy away. No, he doesn't want you to stop, but he doesn't know what to do either. So, he just tenses up, grits his teeth, eye twitching under his mask, skin crawling as you run your fingertips over the skin of his back, his shoulders, down to his waist.
After a minute or two, you realize he's more uncomfortable than when you started, so you pull back. "I'm sorry. I was only trying to help."
"You know how you can help me, lovie?" He unbuckles his pants and pulls out the only part of him left that feels anything uncomplicated.
Kyle - He's upset, at the unfairness of it all. Ranting and raving about the mission and the particulars. It should've been easy, people could've been killed. But as your hands move in wide circles along his neck and his spine, he quiets down. He forgets what he was so angry about. His breaths slow and his eyes close. His head rolls back until you think maybe he fell asleep.
So, you stop, just for a minute. Until he moans your name and kisses your wrist. "Enough about me, baby. How was your day? Want to go out for dinner?"
Johnny - The second you lay your hands on him, he starts to boss you around. "A little to the left." "Ah, that's it, lower." "Don't be shy, use your nails." "Harder."
Before you know it, you're playing 'Whack-a-mole' with the itch running around his back muscles and across his chest. He's stomping his foot like a dog and leaning into your touch. You're behind his ears and under his arms, down the waist of his boxers.
He's moaning like you're giving him the best fuck of his life, and when your roommate happens to poke their head out from the kitchen to see what the commotion is all about, it's just the big Scot with his shirt pulled up around his neck and your legs spread across his lap for better access to his hairy abs.
John - Like Simon, physical touch is a mixed bag for him. Most people who sneak up behind him want him dead, so he's more prepared for a knife than a kind pair of hands.
But he trusts you, he reminds himself. And he has a lot of hair, so it does get itchy. Especially in the heat after a long day. He pays for your maintenance--hair, nails, clothes--so it's only fair that he gets to enjoy everything his money gets him.
"Do you like this, daddy?" You knead his knotted muscles with your thumbs and mindlessly run your meticulously filed nails through the coarse salt and pepper curls along his back and chest.
Maybe the nicer you are to him, the nicer he'll be later.
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swordsandholly · 2 days
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anothology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist | cw: oral (reader receiving)
Part Ten: Permission
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A/N: We're SO back!
You’ve never been so happy to work an extra day.
Johnny gets the shop to himself on Sundays for walk-ins. Usually, he mans the shop by himself but you need to record the cash income from the convention in the ledger. Sure, you could do that during your usual hours the upcoming Wednesday and catch up on sleep, but you have too much nervous energy coursing through you. If you were home you would just be stewing on your couch the hole day and probably spiral into a panic attack. At least here, with a task and Johnny yapping in your ear, you don’t have to think about the fact that you made out with your boss too much.
Fuck. You really did that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
You woke up in a cold sweat, fingers brushing over your lips as you tried to decipher if it was real or dreamed. If you really kissed John, if he really held a hand on your lower back as he walked you home, if he really gave you a second, light peck before saying goodnight. The itch of his beard lingers, as well as the warmth where his hands cupped your face. It felt so good. So fucking good.
Then the context settles in. The fact that you kissed your boss makes you want to throw up - not for any dislike of it, just the fact that your job is now in limbo. Hanging in the balance until you can talk to him on Wednesday. At least you can take the next couple days to collect your thoughts - come up with a good apology that will hopefully let you keep your job and some semblance of dignity. Somehow make sense of the fact that you’ve kissed John and Kyle and surely when they find out they’ll think you’re a floosy. Loose and easy and pathetic and gross. You couldn’t quite meet your own eye in the mirror as you tried to get ready for the day.
The current, formerly “Future You” is not very happy with the now Past You. Frankly, you’d like to deck her for leaving you in this state of a permanent heart attack.
“Och, I’m about tae melt.” Johnny mutters, appearing from his room and stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a thick happy trail that does not help you in your current spiral.
You just hum, gluing your eyes to the physical spreadsheet in front of you as you go through the sales from the convention. Numbers will clear your head. Yeah, nothing less sexy or more distracting than trying to do math with pen, paper and a TI-84 calculator.
“We should go get some ice cream.” Johnny leans over behind you, causing you to jump. Large hands settle on your shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of your head. At least Johnny is always touchy, you don’t have to read into it. You don’t think you could handle reading into it right now.
“Uh, yeah, okay.” You murmur, letting him lead you out of the office and flipping the out for lunch sign. You’ve been so lost in your head the entire day that you can’t fully pull yourself out of it - the same spiral of fears and self-degradation swirling around in your mind. A Cat 5 tornado of your own making. So stupid.
Johnny intertwines your fingers as you make your way down the street. Your hands swing lightly as you walk. Even with the heat, it doesn’t feel like too much. You’re not sure what it is - of you’re just comfortable or if Johnny just has something about him that makes touch feel perfectly natural - but it’s never overwhelming. Even when he’s hanging off you like a leech, it’s just Johnny. He doesn’t make you talk, doesn’t pry into why you’re so spaced out. He probably just thinks you’re tired. You are tired. So tired.
You don’t realize Johnny is saying something until he gently elbows your side. “Huh?”
“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks with a concerned furrow in his brow.
“Oh, uh, I can get my own-“
”My treat.” He shakes his head, batting away the hand pulling your wallet out of your back pocket. You have no choice but to give in to him - there isn’t any point in arguing with Johnny.
“Thanks for suggesting this.” You murmur, as you sit at one of the wooden, outdoor tables in front of the shop a couple blocks down from the tattoo parlor. The tables are covered in the shade of trees and an awning, luckily, keeping the sun from beating down on you. It doesn’t stop your ice cream from melting nearly faster than you can eat it, but you don’t have the heart to complain after Johnny took you out and bought it for you.
“Aye. Seemed like ye needed some cheerin’ up. Never seen ye so sullen.” Johnny comments, casually stuffing a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes are sympathetic, though.
“Oh.” You thought you’d been doing alright at hiding it - came into the shop with a jokes and everything this morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much Johnny actually notices between all his volume and energy.
“Gonnae tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Might help.”
You shake your head. “I- I’m- I can’t.”
“Okay.” He smiles gently, giving you a once over. His eyes are so sharp. The others do it too - take your body language in piece by piece. It doesn’t burn like when Johnny does it, though. His gaze is consuming, even when soft.
He seems to let you off the hook, though. It’s impossible to know how much he does or doesn’t know - how much any of them know. It puts you on edge, the inability to ask. After all, to ask is to admit. If you admit to it, you might lose it all. Fuck why did you kiss John? Kyle you can explain away - just a fun little bet. You’re close in age, he’s pretty, you’re together a lot, you get along. Nothing to it - even if it feels like there was. Even if it feels like every time you’re near him you’re going to melt and the air gets too thick and all you want is to pull him to the back room one more time.
John… John you can’t justify like that. He’s your boss. He’s over a decade older than you. Easily. He’s been so good to you but that’s not an excuse - it’s not right. You’re jeopardizing his place in his community. You’re jeopardizing your job. The best job you’ve ever had. The best friends you’ve ever had.
You can feel Johnny glancing at you as you walk, your eyes square on the ground and fists clenched anxiously. The heat outside only makes your head spin faster. Your cheeks feel feverishly hot. The ice cream almost curdles in your gut. Everything is too loud, too hot, too heavy.
You glance up at the clock. The day’s almost over - there probably won’t be more than one or two people that file in at most. You’ve finished with your work, currently just cross hatching on a sticky note in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. It hasn’t worked. You need a distraction. A real, proper distraction.
“Johnny.” You snap, standing in the door way to his workroom.
“Hm?” He looks up, thick brows raised.
“I want a piercing.”
He cocks his head, taking you in from head to toe. “Aye?”
“If you have time.”
“I’ve always got time fer ye.” He grins.
You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too raw at the edges to really care about his usual flirting. There’s too much weighing on your mind - too much real anxiety knotting itself around your synapses and crushing them in it’s hold. The pain will help. It’ll ground you - sharpen your senses. You can focus on taking care of it for the next couple days between sleeping the days away until Wednesday. Until you can get this shit over with.
The only answer is to quit, right?
That’s your only option.
“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks.
You shrug. “What’d you think?”
He taps his chin, eyes slowly making their way over your body. You wonder if he can see how tense you are - body so locked up your joints ache and your jaw throbs. It’s a wonder your teeth are still there with how much you’ve been grinding them.
“How about a navel?”
“Okay.” You agree too quickly, flopping back on the pairing table. You focus in on a water mark on the ceiling above while Johnny digs through his tool cabinet, laying everything neatly on a small rolling tray.
Johnny stops above you. You don’t even turn your head to look, fists clenching and unclenching.
You’ll have to quit.
That’s your only choice. No reference calls, no contact. Will Simon hate you? Will they all? Will they talk about why you up and left? Will they show up at your apartment to demand an answer? No. You don’t mean that much - only a blip on the timeline of their shop. The corners of your eyes burn.
Johnny’s fingers skate over your soft middle, barely touching as he passes over the button of your jeans. He pauses, glancing down at you. “Bonnie?”
“Yeah?” You reply a little too harshly.
Johnny leans over you, hands on either side of your head, blue eyes burning through your skull. He blocks out the light above. “Yer doin’ this because ye want to, yeah? Not to punish yerself?”
You shrink into the table, hackles raising. It really is so easy to forget that Johnny is an observant bastard. Loud, brash, but he still sees everything. Like how he learned your coffee order by heart without you ever even saying it to him or having it written on the cup. He absorbs things, files it away, keeps it close to his chest and hides it behind his blunt, brash daily manners. You’ll miss him.
“I- yeah, I’m fine.” You wince internally at the shake in your voice.
“Y’know, we all love ye.” Johnny murmurs.
You huff, eyes darting anywhere to get away from his. Laying on the table suddenly feels slightly trapping. You can’t get your gaze fully away from where he stands over you - so close as his thick arms cage you in. “Guess so.”
“An’ there’s nothin’ tae feel guilty or bad about.”
Your eyes snap to his face, wide and worried. Does he know? Was he told? Do you ask? If you ask, you’ll be admitting to it. If you ask, then he will know for sure. If you ask, you might ruin it all. “I don’t-“
“Ye do.” He cuts you off. “An’ ye have permission, even if ye dinnae need it. It’s okay. Ye havennae done anythin’ wrong.”
You stare, mouth opening and closing lamely. Johnny. Straight forward, loud mouth, unsubtle Johnny. Fuck, you love him for it. Doesn’t dance around what he means. Doesn’t avoid what needs to be said - from his end, at least.
“Did- did you talk to-?” You stutter, struggling between needing to know and fear to admit the truth so blatantly. Even if he obviously knows something.
“Not really. Not my business.” Johnny shrugs casually.
Not his business. So they persue separately, you think. That makes sense. Probably. It’s probably wrong to make assumptions about the dynamic, about the implication that they have some sort of free for all. Then again, you don’t really know anything about their interpersonal workings much. They live together, they’re touchy. The dynamic is a mystery to you - only adding to the piles of confusion.
“Yer thinkin’ tae hard about it.” He pokes the furrow between your brows.
Oh. Is that it? You’re overthinking? No, adults talk about these things. You don’t understand the interpersonal workings here at all. Are they together? Do they just do this? Pull girls in and push them around until they get tired? That feels too cruel for them. They’ve taken such good care of you…
“I still… want to talk.” You murmur, cheeks warm.
His face softens, a light smile tugging at his lips. “An’ ye will. Kyle’s been damn near loosin’ it with ye avoiding him.”
“I’m not avoiding him!” You snap far too defensively.
“Sure ye aren’t.” Johnny shrugs, as if to tell you he knows that’s bull. Not his business, though, he said. “Just… donnae be so scared of us, aye? We’ve got yer back.”
Your shoulders drop, sore from being tensed for the entire day. “Okay.”
“Still want tae get peirced?”
You nod, chest far less tight. As though you finally let go of a breath you had been holding the entire day. “Sure, why not.”
Your shoulders slump as Johnny makes his way through the usual song and dance - showing you the freshly cleaned tools and marking the spot for the needle. Somehow the world seems… quieter. As if all the chatter in your mind had been just as deafening to your physical ears. It’s tiring. That same sting behind your eyes that you get after a long night out. Your defenses are down, and your body is finally at rest.
“Ow!” You gasp, lifting your head to meet Johnny’s impish grin with a glare. “A little warning next time!”
“Tha’s what happens when ye donnae listen.” He teases, slipping the jewelry through. “She’s cute.”
You snort. “She better be. Y’know I should tell John on you for improper conduct.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Aye, ye an’ Price know plenty about improper conduct.”
There’s no malice in the comment, or in the grin he settles on you. For once, you don’t freeze up. Don’t send yourself into a panic spiral over what he knows or thinks or feels. Johnny made himself clear. Instead you land a light smack against his arm and huff in embarrassment.
“Stand f’me.” Johnny murmurs after cleaning the piercing, a heat in his eyes that you can’t quite gauge the source of.
You do as you’re told, slipping off the table. You have to hook a finger into the waistband of your jeans to keep them up, cheeks hot as you realize how much is actually exposed with the fully undone fly. You glance up at a far too pleased Johnny. Didn’t even say a word, the mischievous bastard.
He drops to his knees in front of you. Your brows shoot damn near into the sky. Johnny mumbles something about making sure the piercing is sitting right. You roll with it, knowing he’s probably just saying whatever to get you to keep your pants undone a little longer. Your breath quickens as a large, warm hand flattens itself over your soft belly, unabashedly groping. Not that you mind, really, even if it does make your face so hot it might melt.
Your heart almost breaks out of your rib cage when he places a small kiss next to the piercing. His hand lowers, resting beside yours on the waistband of your jeans.
“May I?” Johnny murmurs, big blue eyes blinking up at you.
You have permission.
You don’t need permission.
You have it, though.
“Yeah.” You gasp, shivering at the cold air on your skin as Johnny pulls your pants halfway down your thighs.
“Pretty, pretty lass.” He murmurs, nipping at the softness of your belly and down to your thigh. “Look at ye.”
“Flatterer.” You scoff, attempting to let the tension melt off your shoulders with the usual snide remarks you slide each others way.
“M’just honest…” Johnny mumbles absently, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear. “Ye always walkin’ around in somethin’ this skintie?”
For a moment, your brows knit in confusion. That is until he pulls back and snaps the string of your thong against your hip. Your face somehow gets even hotter and you grumble out a poor excuse of, “S’laundry day…”
Your hips twitch as he traces between your lips through the cloth. So uncharacteristically slow and methodical for Johnny as he feels you, like he’s trying to memorize it. A shamefully harsh jolt runs up your spine as he presses just slightly into your clit.
“Sensitive little thing.” Johnny grins up at you. You swear the devil has a less delinquent grin.
“It’s been a while.” You shrug, aiming once again for casual and missing by a mile.
His grin only grows, eyes bright and hungry. “Let’s get these off.”
You shimmy your hips a bit to help him get both your underwear and jeans completely down. A wave of shyness overtakes you as it settles in that you’re utterly exposed to Johnny, your friend and coworker, in the middle of your workplace just as the sun has begun to edge down close to the horizon. It’s almost too much, and you almost yank your pants back on with a stammered, fake excuse, but Johnny soothes his hands up your thighs, gaze locked onto your pussy like it’s the only thing that exists and yeah… you want that.
You have permission.
“There she is.” He cups you gently, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit just hard enough to make you gasp.
Before you can say or do anything his hand retracts and Johnny settles you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen from him. It looks wrong, almost, on that face that’s supposed to have a permanent ear to ear grin.
“If ye want tae stop, I need ye tae tell me now.”
“No.” The word leaves you before you can even register the thought - desperate and breathy.
It earns a low chuckle. The only warning you get before Johnny licks a long stripe up between your lips, letting his tongue rest on your clit for just a moment before repeating the motion as though he’s not just eating you out but truly trying to truly get a taste for you. To memorize you as he drinks you in.
“Should let me give you a Christina…” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.
“Ah, wha-“
“Look so pretty on this fat little cunt.” Johnny gives you a light smack for good measure, grinning at the visible jolt that travels up your spine before diving back in. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, leaving you balancing on your tip toes with your hands flat on the table behind you. It’s precarious and with absolutely no room to escape the attention he’s lavishing on you. It’s almost desperate, the way he moves. The way he devours. A man utterly starved.
“Fuck-“ you gasp as his tongue piercing catches your clit. Rough hands knead at the softness of your thighs and hips, urging you to press into him, to take as much as he’s giving.
“Tha’s it, ride m’face…” Your fingers lock into his mohawk and Johnny’s slurred words become the most pornographic moan you think you’ve ever heard. He practically goes limp - body relaxed and pliant while you grind down onto his tongue.
You tilt your head forward, risking looking down only to meet those big blue eyes staring up at you with all the intensity of the sun. A shaky moan passes your lips and his eyes flutter.
“J-Johnny-” The whine of his name only spurs him on - has him pressing his tongue so deep inside you and drinking you in full.
If he has any complaints about the way your heel digs between his shoulder blades as you unconsciously pull him closer, he doesn’t make it known. His nails rake over your ass, biting and stinging in contrast to everything else. It’s so much. Heat continues to pool at the base of your spine - babbling words, please and moans spill messily from your lips.
Your climax catches you off guard as Johnny sucks harshly at your clit; lighting your body aflame with only his mouth. Every muscle inside you tenses and the sounds you let out can only be described as strangled whines.
You have to yank a little at Johnny’s hair to get him to stop when the overstimulation reaches just the wrong side of too much; he’s well and truly lost in the moment. It fuels your ego to dangerous heights - the idea that this gorgeous man became that intoxicated just from your pussy.
There isn’t even time to say anything before Johnny is standing and connecting his lips with yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his lips - somehow this is the first time you’ve found that pleasant. With heavy breaths you watch him wipe around his mouth his his palm, only to exaggeratedly lick and clean what’s left off his hand. Fucking sinful.
“Nasty man.” You sigh, too blissed out to be truly critical. Johnny winks and you roll your eyes.
“S’about quittin’ time.” He says, tilting his head to look up at you through thick lashes. “Should get ye home.”
You frown, still trying to come back to earth as you glance down. “Don’t- do you want-?”
He looks you over, your mouth goes dry as his hand drops from your hip to adjust himself. The implications of the outline through his thick denim has your head reeling and your breath quickening. Johnny chuckles at you, surely seeing it written plain across your face. You might as well start drooling and panting like a dog.
He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to nip at your skin. “Another time. Want tae savor ye.”
You shiver, unable to stop the smile that quirks up the corners of your lips. You have permission. You don’t need it, but you have it.
A/N: Sorry if this is a little rough, I'm getting back into the swing of things. It's finally time for things to get fun, tho ;)
Also please give some love to this AMAZING fanart from @eurydicescurse
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a-lexia11 · 3 days
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Womanizer (Part 1)
Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader
Word count: Around 14k
Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.
Based on this request
Part 2
Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!
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You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.
You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.
It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.
He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.
When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.
Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.
He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.
Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.
Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.
Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.
So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.
Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.
“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.
It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”
At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.
But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.
The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.
You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.
——
One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.
Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.
Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.
But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.
Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.
You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.
Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.
She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.
It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.
Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.
She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. ��¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)
Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)
“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)
“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)
“Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)
“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)
Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)
“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)
Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)
The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.
Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.
It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.
After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.
She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)
You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.
“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)
She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)
You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.
You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.
Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.
“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.
You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.
But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.
You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”
You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.
Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.
You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.
As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.
You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.
Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.
As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.
Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”
“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.
Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.
——
“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.
“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.
“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.
You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.
“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.
“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)
María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.
“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.
Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.
“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.
After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.
Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.
When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.
“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.
“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”
“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.
Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.
“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.
“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”
“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.
As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.
Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.
——
“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.
Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.
You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.
“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”
“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.
Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.
“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)
“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.
Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)
You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.
“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.
She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.
You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”
“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)
“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.
You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.
“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.
You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”
Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)
You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”
Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”
You decided to ignore her comment.
“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.
“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)
You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.
“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.
Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.
“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”
Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.
Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.
You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.
Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.
She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.
For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.
“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.
You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.
Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.
You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.
Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.
“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.
Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)
“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.
Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.
She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.
You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.
——
The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.
As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.
You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.
You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.
While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)
You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.
“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.
“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)
You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.
Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)
Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.
As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.
“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)
With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.
She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.
She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.
As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.
Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.
The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.
The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.
With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.
As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.
With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.
She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.
Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.
You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.
“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)
“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)
You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.
“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)
“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)
“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)
Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.
Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.
“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.
——
“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.
“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.
“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.
“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.
“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.
“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.
You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.
——
“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.
She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.
You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.
Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.
After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.
“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.
“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.
“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.
She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.
Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.
“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)
The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.
Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.
You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.
Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.
You once again cringed at the sight.
Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.
“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.
“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”
“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.
“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.
“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.
“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.
“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”
You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”
You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”
Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.
“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)
As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.
The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.
You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.
Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.
Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.
You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.
——
For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.
You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.
Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.
“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.
You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”
“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.
You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.
“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.
At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.
“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.
“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.
“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”
Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”
You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.
Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”
You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”
“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”
You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”
“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”
You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”
Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”
You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”
Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”
She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”
You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.
——
Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.
You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.
She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.
The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.
The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.
You had driven her away. That much was clear.
You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.
Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.
She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.
Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.
“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.
She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.
“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.
You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. “Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.
“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.
Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.
Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.
“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.
You raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”
But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.
“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.
“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.
You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.
Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.
You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.
Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”
You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.
She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)
You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”
The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.
For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.
Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.
You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.
“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)
Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.
When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)
Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)
Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.
You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”
Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.
For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.
That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.
——
From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.
But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.
You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.
If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.
Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.
One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.
At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.
Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.
The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.
You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.
You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.
“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.
You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.
Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.
Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.
Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.
“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.
Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.
From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.
You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.
Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.
“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)
“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)
You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.
The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)
Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.
“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.
You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.
“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.
“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.
Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.
“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.
Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.
She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.
Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.
——
“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.
“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.
Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.
As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.
Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.
She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.
“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.
“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.
She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.
“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.
“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.
“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)
Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.
Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”
Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.
“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.
“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.
But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)
You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.
Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.
“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”
You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.
But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.
“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.
She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”
She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”
There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.
Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”
“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”
Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.
“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”
Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”
You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.
“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”
Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.
“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”
Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.
But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.
She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.
——
“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.
“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.
Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.
She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.
Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.
Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.
Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”
You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.
Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.
She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.
“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”
You made a face of disgust.
She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)
“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.
“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.
With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”
You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.
“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.
“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)
You shook your head, amused.
“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.
You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.
Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.
You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.
While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.
Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.
“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.
You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.
Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.
——
“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.
“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.
The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.
As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.
Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.
“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.
Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.
Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)
You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”
Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.
Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”
“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)
Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.
“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.
She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.
A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.
“Mommy!”
You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…
When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.
“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.
Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.
It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)
You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.
Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.
Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.
“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.
Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.
Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.
You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.
Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.
“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.
Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.
“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.
“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.
Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”
Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)
Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.
“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.
“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.
Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”
Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.
Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.
You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.
Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”
You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”
Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.
“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.
The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.
Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”
Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.
You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.
“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.
Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.
“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.
Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”
You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.
Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.
Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”
Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.
“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.
Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.
Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.
You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.
As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.
She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.
You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.
As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.
And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.
——
The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.
When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.
As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.
Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.
You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.
Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.
Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”
Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.
You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.
“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.
As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.
“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.
You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.
“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)
“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.
Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.
You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.
“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.
“Yes,” you replied, nodding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.
You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.
“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.
You didn’t respond, so she continued.
“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.
You stared down at your coffee and nodded.
“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.
Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.
“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.
You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.
“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.
“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.
“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.
Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.
“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.
You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.
“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.
“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.
“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.
Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.
“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.
“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.
Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.
“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.
Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.
You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.
“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.
“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.
“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.
Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.
“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.
Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.
You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.
Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.
As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”
Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.
The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.
The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.
“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.
Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.
Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.
Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.
“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.
“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.
“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.
“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.
Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.
After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.
“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”
You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”
Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.
You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”
You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.
Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”
You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.
She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.
“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.
There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.
“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.
You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.
“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”
Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.
You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.
Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.
You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.
As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.
You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.
Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.
“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.
You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.
The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.
Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.
“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.
Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”
Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.
You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.
You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”
And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.
You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.
Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.
She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.
The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.
That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.
She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.
But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.
——
“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.
After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.
During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.
But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.
“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.
“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.
“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.
“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.
“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.
“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.
As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.
Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.
As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.
“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”
Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.
“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.
“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)
“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.
“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.
“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.
“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.
“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)
“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.
“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.
“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)
“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.
“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.
You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.
“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)
“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.
“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)
“Bye, Alexia,” you said.
“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.
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lovieku · 1 day
Text
obvious ⋆ jeon jeongguk
Tumblr media
you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.
based on this ask
pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader
genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers
ratings: +18 / mdi
warnings: lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (4 years), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33
word count: 12.9k
a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻‍💻
you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.
but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.
there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.
meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.
jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.
“looking for anything in particular?”
when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.
he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”
the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.
you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.
you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.
jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.
there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.
deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.
yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.
it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”
when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.
he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”
“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”
he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.
you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”
jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”
your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”
what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.
“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”
you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.
and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.
but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.
still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.
and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.
jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.
you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.
jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.
it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.
one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.
by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”
you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.
he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”
the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.
you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”
he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”
the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.
when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.
he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.
jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.
only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.
but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.
your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.
you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”
he hummed softly.
“i want you to kiss me.”
the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.
jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”
you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.
but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.
he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”
”what? why not?”
your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.
jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”
”but i am sure about it. i want you.”
once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”
your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.
he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.
you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.
his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”
his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.
he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.
but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.
you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.
with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.
he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—
“hello?”
his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”
”that would be me, ma’am.”
“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.
”hey. feeling better, miss?”
his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”
jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.
you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”
when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.
it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.
jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.
you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.
with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.
but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.
on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.
and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.
through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.
“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”
you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.
you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”
“i do. very badly.”
his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.
you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”
jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.
it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.
with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.
he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.
you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.
you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.
his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.
he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”
in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.
instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.
jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.
”yeah? you like that?”
you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.
”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.
you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.
he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”
it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.
you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”
he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”
his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.
you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.
the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.
he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.
he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.
you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.
he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.
he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.
he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.
he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.
you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”
you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.
jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”
“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.
“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.
you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.
when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.
jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.
you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.
“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.
you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”
it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”
your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.
jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.
he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”
the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“
“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”
the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.
he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”
”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.
you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.
he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”
you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”
he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”
you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”
the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”
the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.
he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.
the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.
“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.
but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.
your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”
he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”
jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.
you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”
you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.
you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”
when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.
the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”
he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.
your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.
but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”
you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”
the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”
you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”
he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.
his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.
a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.
he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.
”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.
when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.
he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.
jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.
he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.
you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.
when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”
he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.
you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”
“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.
his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.
what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.
you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.
jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.
your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”
he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.
it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”
he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”
you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”
jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.
he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”
his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.
now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?
but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.
ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.
you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”
the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.
it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”
you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”
the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.
it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.
you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.
you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.
jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.
your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.
in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”
jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”
you whispered, ”please.”
”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”
your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.
in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”
”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.
as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“
”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”
he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.
jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.
he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”
you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”
”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.
“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.
as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.
jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.
you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.
as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.
he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”
”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”
”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.
he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.
”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.
it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.
”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.
your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.
it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.
you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.
when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.
you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.
he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”
“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”
“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”
his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.
the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.
he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.
and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”
he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”
you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.
now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.
the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.
the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.
your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.
as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”
you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.
he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.
soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.
you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.
”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.
”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.
and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.
the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.
jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”
you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.
jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“
”wanna make you cum, gguk.”
he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.
”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.
but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”
your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.
his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.
”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”
his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.
the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.
you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.
“sweetheart. you sleepy?”
you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.
he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.
as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.
luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.
he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.
but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.
with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.
“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.
“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”
jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.
instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.
it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.
but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.
your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”
he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”
your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”
“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.
you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”
jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”
the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.
as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.
but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.
he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”
your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”
“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”
with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”
“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.
“you’re so gross.”
“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.
chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.
at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.
it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”
“hmm?”
“i’m so happy.”
his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.
you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”
your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.
he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”
the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.
your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.
you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.
his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”
the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”
he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.
the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.
he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.
he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.
the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”
it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.
but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.
you were the truth. he was in love.
so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”
the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.
“i love you too, gguk.”
it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.
all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warmth nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.
it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.
when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.
and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.
despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.
quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.
even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.
jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.
you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.
“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“
those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”
there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”
you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”
you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.
he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.
you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.
“babe, c’mon, it was obvious.”
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screampied · 5 hours
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❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru
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☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.
wc. 6.6k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.
➤ sd!gojo masterlist.
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“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.
“are you—”
“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”
with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”
“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”
you were quite literally living in luxury. .
as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.
despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.
just for you and no one else.
but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.
you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.
“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.
‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.
he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”
“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.
his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.
it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.
if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”
“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”
“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.
he remembered?
you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .
you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”
with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”
“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”
damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.
you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.
satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”
famous last words. .
because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.
he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.
not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.
you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.
satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.
“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.
you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”
“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.
fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.
tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.
he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.
“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.
both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.
his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.
at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.
satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.
“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.
you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.
satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”
“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”
“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.
your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.
with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.
as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.
there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .
that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.
“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.
“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.
you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”
“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.
it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.
satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”
as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”
“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.
satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.
he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.
“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.
the taste — it’s candied sweet.
the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”
satoru was still very much hard though—very.
you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.
he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.
but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.
“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”
“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.
even if it didn’t last that long,
the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.
satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.
“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.
for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.
satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”
“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.
with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”
“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.
satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”
and he did.
one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.
you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.
his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.
god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.
he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.
his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.
“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”
he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.
“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.
“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,
satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.
“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.
one, two, three . .
he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.
“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”
moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.
he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.
he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.
you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.
“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.
once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”
“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.
that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,
that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.
you were fucked, literally. .
“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.
as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.
every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.
‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.
it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.
the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.
you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’
every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.
satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.
“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.
he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”
“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”
“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.
he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.
as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.
satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”
a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.
satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.
“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”
as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.
“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”
and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.
you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.
you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.
satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.
“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”
“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.
you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.
he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”
“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”
“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.
satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.
“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.
he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.
but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.
he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.
“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”
his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .
you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.
satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.
the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.
oh, he’s whipped.
his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”
the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.
you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.
thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.
it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .
satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.
he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.
“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.
a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.
“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.
you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.
holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”
satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.
in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.
satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.
he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.
his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.
he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.
like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.
each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.
the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .
his favorite,
he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.
a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.
“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.
he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.
but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.
he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.
“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.
satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.
tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.
it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.
as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.
his heart was pounding,
telling him to say it - just say it.
but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.
“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.
you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.
the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.
“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”
712 notes · View notes
celestemona · 23 hours
Text
⋆˙⟡ — TANGLED FATES
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pairing: kinich, kaedehara kazuha, wanderer x reader
cw: soulmates! au. characters may look ooc. approximately 3k words. no pronouns mentioned though "my lady" is said in kazuha's part. fluffy, angsty, lovely. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
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Kinich
Kinich had always felt a subtle pull toward something—or someone—just beyond his reach.
From the moment he was born, the thread that connected him to his soulmate had been a delicate shade of translucent red, often fading to the point of nearly vanishing. It was a constant reminder of the distance between them, a tangible sign that his soulmate was far away, perhaps even in another nation.
The people of Natlan revered the concept of soulmates, believing that every thread was woven by the hands of fate itself. Kinich, however, was not the type to wander beyond his homeland in search of this elusive connection. The rugged beauty of his tribe, the thrill of hunting, and the camaraderie of his people grounded him. He found comfort in the familiar rhythms of his life, though sometimes, during quiet moments beneath the canopy of the trees or while gazing at the stars, the thought of his soulmate would flutter in his mind like a restless bird.
Yet today was different.
As Kinich navigated the vibrant festival of the Scions of the Canopy, filled with laughter and the smell of roasted meats mingling with the sweetness of ripe fruit, he couldn’t shake a strange sensation. He glanced down at the red string on his finger, and to his surprise, it was brighter than he had ever seen—deep crimson, like the fiery sunsets that painted the sky at twilight. The sudden vibrancy sent a jolt of energy through him, and his heart raced with possibilities. For the very first time, it felt that his soulmate was closer than he had ever imagined.
The thought barely settled in his mind when a commotion broke out nearby. Kinich turned to see a crowd gathered around the bungee jumping platform, a popular attraction that had people leaping into the air with exhilarating abandon. The sight of the participants soaring through the sky brought a fainted smile to his face—until he noticed one figure preparing for a jump.
His heart seemed to stop as he caught sight of you, your hair whipping in the wind, laughter mingling with the cheers of the crowd. You appeared fearless, but as the countdown began, Kinich noticed something off: the rope seemed frayed, a dangerous instability in an otherwise thrilling endeavor. Panic surged through him as the countdown reached zero.
Before his mind could catch up to his body, he reacted. The faintest snapping sound echoed in his ears as the bungee cord gave way—a horrified gasp echoed from the crowd, but Kinich was already in motion. With a practiced flick of his grappling hook, he shot toward you, the hook catching a solid anchor just as you fell.
In the heartbeat between falling and impact, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, jerking you from the void. Time seemed to slow as the world spun and your eyes locked onto his—the man who had saved your life.
Kinich landed gracefully with you in his arms, his grip steady and reassuring as if it were second nature. As the adrenaline pulsed through you, your heart raced not just from the near-death experience, but from the realization that your strings—both of yours—were now glowing vividly, a striking red.
The connection between you was undeniable, even if the situation was surreal.
“That was... close,” you murmured, still catching your breath, your voice trembling with disbelief.
Kinich’s usual nonchalance wavered momentarily as his eyes lingered on yours. He gently set you down, his hand brushing against yours as the string on his pinky tightened, pulling you two together subtly but magnificently. “You’re either very brave or very reckless,” he said, his voice low but calm, the faintest trace of amusement playing on his lips.
You couldn’t help but smile, even through the lingering adrenaline. “Maybe a little of both.”
He let out a quiet hum, stepping back slightly but not breaking eye contact. “Seems I’ll have to keep an eye on you, then.”
Before you could respond, a pitched voice cut through the air. “No! I though you’d finally gonna get yourself killed, Kinich. Shit! It seems I was wrong again.”
Kinich’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he muttered under his breath, “You wish.”
You blinked, wondering where the voice came from and noticing the sudden change in his demeanor, but before you could ask, Kinich’s focus returned to you. His intense gaze softened as he extended a hand, offering it to you with an unexpected formality. “It seems fate has brought us together in the most dramatic of ways.”
You laughed softly, the tension easing. “Seems that way. And here I thought I’d get a thrill from jumping, not falling.”
“There are safer thrills,” he answered, his hand still holding yours dearly. “One that doesn’t involve falling from cliffs.”
You bit your bottom lip in a failed attempt to hide a smirk, the soft flirtation in his voice making your heartbeats go faster. “Oh? Like what?”
He let his gaze linger on yours, his thumb gently tracing the back of your hand. “Perhaps we’ll find out together.”
The red string between you entwined, as if urging the two of you closer. For the first time in a long while, Kinich felt more than just duty or the thrill of a adventuring—he felt the warmth of something that had been distant for too long.
And for you, the world around you seemed to quiet as the only thing that mattered now was the connection between you and the man fate had quite literally sent to catch you.
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Kaedehara Kazuha
From the moment of birth, the faintest whispers of your soulmate begin to form in your mind, weaving through your thoughts, and growing clearer with time. The voices aren’t constant, but they drift in and out, as if carried on a breeze, reminding you of the presence of someone far away yet intimately close. Sometimes, it's a word spoken aloud, a laugh shared with a friend. Other times, it’s a fleeting thought, as private as a breath. And from childhood, this voice becomes an indelible part of your life, a companion whose face you have never seen but whose soul you know deeply.
Kazuha was still a boy when he first heard the voice. He was playing alone in the gardens of his family’s estate, surrounded by the quiet rustle of leaves and the gentle murmur of the wind. And then, as soft as a whisper, he heard it—a voice that wasn’t his own.
It was delicate, like the sound of water trickling over smooth stones. A voice so pure it carried the sweetness of a lullaby. At first, he thought it was part of the wind, some trick of the breeze, but as the days went on, the voice returned. Sometimes it sang, sometimes it hummed a tune that was unfamiliar yet soothing. And when it spoke, Kazuha listened, enchanted by the rhythm of the words, even if they weren’t meant for him.
Years passed, and the voice became a familiar presence in his life. He learned to recognize its tones—the way it brightened when it was happy, or softened when the person behind it was lost in thought. Even when he left the security of his childhood home, embarking on his wandering journey, the voice followed him. It was a constant companion, a tether that connected him to something beyond the world he knew.
The voice belonged to an opera singer from Fontaine, though Kazuha would only come to know this much later. As children, you’d hear each other speak, often unaware of the impact your words were having on the other side of the world. You’ve been singing since you were small, your voice a bright light in the waterside streets of Fontaine, and Kazuha had come to love the sound of it—first as a soothing melody in the background of his thoughts, and later as a force that brought him comfort during his travels. He could sense your emotions through your voice—the joy you found in your craft, the occasional frustration in your rehearsals, and the quiet moments when you’d murmur your thoughts to yourself.
You, too, had been listening to him. From the first haikus he had whispered into the wind as a child, to the quiet contemplations of a young man growing into his own. Though Kazuha was never one to speak much, the moments when he’d recite poetry or talk to the wind were enough to fill your heart with a sense of companionship. His voice, calm and steady, was a comfort to you as you navigated your own world of art and performance.
Neither of you knew exactly who the other was, but your voices had become a part of each other. Even without a meeting, you had grown up together—two souls connected by the invisible threads of fate.
As Kazuha grew older, his understanding of the voice deepened. He’d often find himself drifting off to sleep, only to wake with the faint echoes of your songs still lingering in his ears. He marveled at how perfectly your voice blended with the world around him—the wind, the sea, and the rustling of leaves in the forests he wandered. Your voice had become a song in the symphony of his life, and he cherished it.
For you, his words were like the poetry he often whispered to himself—a gentle, constant reminder that somewhere out there was someone who understood the world the way you did. You often wondered what he looked like, what kind of person could speak so softly yet carry so much meaning in his words.
Years passed, and though your connection remained strong, you never rushed to meet. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just the quiet understanding that one day, you’d find each other.
It wasn’t until Kazuha’s travels led him to Fontaine that your worlds finally began to merge. The hydro nation was a place where the beauty of the arts and the depths of the sea intertwined. Kazuha had no intention of seeking you out immediately. He had learned patience long ago and trusted that the wind would guide him when the time was right.
But as he wandered the streets of Fontaine, drinking in the sights and sounds of the city, he heard your voice again—clearer than it had ever been. This time, it was no distant whisper but a melody that floated on the air, rich and vibrant. You were rehearsing for an upcoming performance, your voice filling the opera house with the same beauty that had once echoed in his dreams.
He stood at a distance, watching you from the shadows. You were every bit as graceful as your voice, your movements fluid and elegant. Your presence commanded the space around you, yet there was a softness to you that drew him in. You were speaking with one of the directors with enthusiasm as you discussed the details of the upcoming opera. And though you didn’t know it, the man you had shared your thoughts with for so many years was standing just a few feet away, watching with quiet reverence.
Kazuha’s heart swelled as he took a deep breath, allowing the wind to guide him forward. It was time.
With the same grace that had carried him through countless battles and journeys, he approached you, his steps light and unhurried. When you turned, eyes meeting, the recognition was instant. The voice that had been a constant presence in your lives was now matched with a face.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. It was as though the world had stopped, leaving only the two of you standing in the fading light of the afternoon. And then, with a soft smile, Kazuha spoke.
“My lady,” he said, his voice as gentle as the breeze that stirred the air around both of you. He took your hand in his own, bowing slightly as he lifted it to his lips. The soft kiss he placed on the back of your hand was filled with all the quiet emotion he had carried with him for so many years. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”
Your smile widened, warmth rosing on your cheeks. “The honor is mine. I’ve heard your voice for so long… I almost thought I was dreaming when I heard you recite your poems for the first time.”
“As did I,” Kazuha replied, his crimson eyes soft as he gazed at you. “Your voice has been with me for as long as I can remember. Hearing you sing now… it feels as though I've been waiting for this moment my entire life.”
You laughed softly, the sound as musical as the voice he had come to love. “And I’ve been waiting for you. I always wondered when our paths would cross.”
“They were bound to,” Kazuha said, his tone warm. “The wind always carries us to where we are meant to be.”
With his and your hands still gently intertwined, you stood in the heart of Fontaine, the city alive with the murmur of art and life around them. But for the two of you, the rest of the world had faded, leaving only the echo of the voices that had connected you for so long.
In that moment, you knew that your journey—though long and winding—had led you both exactly where you were meant to be. Together.
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Wanderer
In Teyvat, the concept of soulmates wasn’t something everyone discussed openly, but it was an unspoken truth understood by all. It was a tragic but beautiful reality for those people: no one ever dreamed—at least, not until they met their soulmate. The first and only dream a person would ever experience was a shared one, an intimate meeting with their destined one. This dream wasn’t bound by time or place, often filled with subtle moments, quiet connections, and profound understanding. But the dream itself didn’t mean immediate union. Many spent years after their dream searching, wondering when—or if—they’d ever cross paths with their other half in the waking world.
And not all believed they deserved a soulmate.
Wanderer had learned of the legend when he was still known as Kunikuzushi, back in the early days when he was newly formed and still discovering what it meant to exist. He hadn’t thought it applied to him, a puppet—a hollow being without a true heart, someone who was neither human nor divine. But one night, long ago, when he was still innocent and full of hope, he had a dream.
In that dream, he met you.
It wasn’t a vivid or wild vision. It was quiet, serene. You walked in a vast wheat field, your steps so rhythmic as if you were dancing between invisible trails that only you knew where it’d take you. Your back was turned to him but the sound of your laughter was a song that played like a lullaby in his head. When you looked up, your eyes meeting, something inside him stirred—a sense of calm, of being understood without words.
There were no grand gestures, no spoken promises. Just a glance, a soft smile, and a feeling that warmed him from the inside out. You were real, and for the first time in his short existence, he felt connected to something outside of himself. 
When he woke, the memory of that dream stayed with him, lodged deep in his mind like a forgotten melody. He tried to dismiss it, thinking it was some strange byproduct of his flawed creation. How could he have a soulmate when he wasn’t truly human?
Years, centuries passed, and Kunikuzushi became Scaramouche, and Scaramouche became Wanderer. He fell deeper into darkness, fueled by bitterness and anger. Yet, despite the walls he built around himself, the memory of the dream never fully faded. It lingered in the back of his mind, sometimes emerging in his quietest moments, like a long-lost hope he didn’t want to admit to. He believed that dream was lost to time, and that he had been undeserving of it. He had resigned himself to solitude, pushing away any notion that he might still have a connection to someone out there.
But everything changed the night he wandered the streets of Sumeru.
The night was calm, and the air was thick with the fragrant scent of flowers. It was one of those evenings where the city was still alive, bustling with life even under the veil of darkness. The marketplace glowed softly in the distance, filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter. Wanderer had no purpose being there, only walking aimlessly, his mind drifting between thoughts.
Yet, for reasons he couldn’t explain, the memory of that dream began to surface. The image of you, twirling in a field, returned with startling clarity. He could almost see the light in your eyes, feel the quiet comfort of that moment. His steps slowed as a strange, almost magnetic pull tugged at his chest, drawing his attention toward the marketplace.
And then he saw you.
You stood at a vendor’s stall, your profile illuminated by the soft lantern light. His breath hitched. It was as if time stopped. You looked exactly as you had in the dream—your presence both familiar and startling. He blinked, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. After all this time, how could you be here?
You turned slightly, inspecting some trinket on display, completely unaware of him. The world around him blurred, all the noise fading into a distant hum as his focus remained solely on you. He felt his heart—did he even have one?—thunder in his chest.
A storm of emotions raged inside him. He hadn’t prepared for this. Could this truly be real? After all he had done—his mistakes, his hatred, his isolation—was it possible that fate hadn’t given up on him? Was he still deserving of a soulmate?
He found himself rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. He couldn’t approach you, not yet. How could he, knowing what he had become? A part of him was relieved, though—relieved that you existed, that the dream hadn’t been a cruel joke. But the hesitation that lingered was undeniable. What if you saw him for who he truly was and walked away? What if, after all these years, he was no longer the person you had dreamed of?
You moved away from the stall, and at that moment, your eyes swept over the crowd, casually scanning the area—until they locked onto his.
The recognition was instant, like a spark between two halves of a long-separated whole. You blinked, clearly processing what you were feeling as if the dream had come flooding back to you all at once. The same quiet understanding he had felt in the dream now passed between you in reality. Your expression softened, and though you seemed uncertain, you didn’t look away.
You took a tentative step toward him, your curiosity was evident. His heart raced again, the walls he had built around himself suddenly feeling fragile as if a single word from you could shatter them entirely.
And then you spoke.
“I saw you once upon a dream,” you said, your voice gentle, filled with the same warmth and wonder from the dream. There was no accusation in your tone, no judgment—just simple truth.
He swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, yet none of them made sense. All he could manage was, “Did you?”
You nodded, your gaze unwavering. “I thought it was just a trick of my mind, but… seeing you now, I know it was real.”
He stood frozen, a mix of doubts, disbelief, and relief swirling inside him. The person he had dreamed of, who he thought was forever out of reach, was standing in front of him. And you remembered him.
His voice was quieter than he intended when he finally spoke again. “I never thought I’d find you.”
You stepped closer, a soft smile forming on your lips. “Neither did I. But… here we are.”
The warmth in your eyes was something he hadn’t felt in so long. It made the walls around his heart tremble, threatening to crumble. He wanted to say so much, to explain the years that had passed, to tell you how unworthy he felt—but none of it mattered in that moment. You were here, and you had dreamed of him, too.
Perhaps, despite everything, he still had a chance at something real. Something good. And for the first time in his long, fragmented existence, Kunikuzushi felt a flicker of hope.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 days
Text
head principal!max verstappen was supposed to retire over five years ago. but that never happened. he often joked that the allure of racing pulled him back in. it was only on his second year of being head principal that he met you. painfully beautiful in the gear for the promising verstappen team. his logo over your heart as you followed him like a lost puppy around the paddock. max didn't want to think about the age gap, or the power dynamic or how you were able to bound the stairs so easily while he had a dull throb in his leg from decades of wear and tear.
when he was racing, he thought he had his whole life planned out. but, life never planned out that way. his fellow drivers all got married, moved on and even had families. while max was still finding his comforts on the track. it was why you were such a surprise. max took a gamble on you and it paid off. powerful on the track and a darling in front of the press. you were trained to a t for formula one. smiles and trophies, a beaut for them. max remembered when he saw you for the first time in the fireproof underlayer of your uniform. the 'm' and the 'v' of his logo partially warped due to the size of your breasts. his gaze lingered and made you stand up a little straighter. you swallowed and meekly asked, "does this look alright, mister verstappen?" and max simply replied, "you wear it with pride." as he reached out, testing the waters to rub your shoulder, "continue to wear it with pride." and you, with a big smile nodded happily. he knew you fought like hell to get to where you were, a girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere. no one wanted to sign you, except for max.
it was only about time you two collided into each other. and that started over your car. the pretty black of the vehicle looked lovely against your form as he bent you over it. his hands on the zip of your jeans before he pulled them down to your ankles. he admired your behind before he gave it a slap. you whimpered. when he eventually got the two of you naked enough and sank into your cock. it was like everything clicked together. this what was what he was missing. he held onto you tightly, like you were going slip away from his grasp. he groaned against your skin with his nose in your hair soon after. his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he wouldn't find out till later that you were actually a virgin which only excited max more. oh, you were a virgin? no other man was able to get their hands on you just like no other team in f1 could. you were max's in any way he could get you. he had sex many times, there was no dry spell in his life for pussy. but when he pulled the first orgasm out of you, you having to cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut, he knew he was far gone. anything you wanted, he'd give you. except something licked at his brain, wearing verstappen branded gear was hot on you. but wearing his last name like a title only made you more stunning to him. wouldn't be the first time someone his age got with someone who was questionably younger. even though you were an adult, it would still raise a few eyebrows. your voice was strained when you called out for him, "mister verstappen! mister verstappen!" he came back to reality and heard your sweet voice say, "can you slow down, you're going to bruise me." and max almost came right at that moment. instead he slowed down, letting you enjoy this intimate feeling.
when he eventually finished inside of you, your sweaty half-clothed body over the hood of your precious car. he helped you back into your clothes and when you got back up right, you clung to him like a gentle kitten. you even pouted when you said, "you didn't even kiss me, mister verstappen." and he simply chuckled and took you by the chin before he kissed you. he then said, "if you win this weekend there will be more where that came from." max waited for the write up, or the press headline or something the following week. but nothing came, instead max received pictures of you whenever you were apart. speculation did swirl when a photo of you seated on max's thigh while he explained how your free practice went, his hand around your waist. those same hands would be on both hips as he buried his cock into you. your sweet moans echoed in his mind as he took you apart on the bed. you were in the netherlands and he wanted to 'wish you luck' which meant letting the fat tip of his cock nudge against your sweet cervix. after most races you'd whine about body pain in your lower half from how you couldn't sit comfortable due to the damage that max had did. "shouldn't you be going slower, old man!" you whined as he continued to fuck you. you tried to hit his strong back, but years of formula one followed by other trainings post "retirement" left him easy to overpower you. pin you down and take you by the waist. let his cock drool pre cum into your sweet sex. even if you hit and scratched up his back when it all became too much. it felt almost romantic, max's lips against your neck as he thrusted into you. when he wasn't fucking you quickly, he was taking so hard thrusts that made you drool all over the bed. you complained about him being too fast, but now you were going to feel every inch inside of your sore pussy.
you were so eager to please. you wanted to do the team right. max would make sure that you were taken care of. contracts, cars, all of it. you just sign the dotted line and keep looking as beautiful as you were. don't worry that the team branded t-shirts were always a little too tight on you and don't mind that it was max's last name on your track pass. "it was just a printing error." "they think i'm married to you though." "is that a bad thing to think?" "no, sir."
slowly seeding ideas into your head. could you imagine the contract you'd have if you got closer to max verstappen. he'd often hold you in his arms after sex and remark that it had been too long since there was a verstappen on the track. while he enjoyed the position he was in now, he longed for his last name on the podium. you simply cuddled closer to him and let him drag his hand across your thigh, "maybe one day, sir." you smiled, "maybe you'll get lucky and have a child!" while that idea was sweet, he didn't want to cut your career short. not that short at least. for now he'd have to simply put into your mind that while your last name was lovely. his last name would look a lot nicer. as he kissed down your neck, it was a promise. you'd be his super star on the track and his loving wife off of it. <3
a/n: reader is an adult, just with an age gap to raise and eyebrow at.
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newsfromstolenland · 2 days
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In one private chat group conversation, a Mountie was accused of saying a new female employee "was overweight and insinuating that the shape of her vagina was visible through her clothing."
In another, a second RCMP officer allegedly bragged about "Tasering unarmed Black people" and called a sexual assault investigation "stupid" — drawing comments from other members of the online group who "made fun of the victim" and said, "she's a dumb Mexican c--t."
An investigator with the RCMP's professional standards unit detailed those allegations and many more in a search warrant sworn to obtain evidence now being used to call for the firing of three Coquitlam Mounties for violating the force's code of conduct.
The CBC has obtained a copy of the search warrant — which recounts behaviour which led the officer who sparked the investigation to complain to RCMP brass about what he saw as "atrocious" and "racist and horrible" activity in a private group operating on the Signal messaging app.
Full article
Tagging: @allthecanadianpolitics
More from this article below the cut, because I think it's important to understand just how much fucked up shit they were saying:
(tw misogyny, domestic violence, racial profiling, anti-Indigenous racism, racism)
The documents reveal that investigators also reviewed 600,000 messages posted to the RCMP's internal mobile data chat logs — finding evidence of "frequently offensive" usage by the three officers facing termination of "homophobic and racist slurs."
"The reviewers had identified a variety of comments that were 'chauvinist in nature, with a strong air of superiority, and include flippant or insulting remarks about clients (including objectifying women), supervisors, colleagues, policy and the RCMP as a whole,'" the warrant says.
Code of conduct hearings against Const. Philip Dick, Const. Ian Solven and Const. Mersad Mesbah had been slated to begin in Surrey this week but have been adjourned until March of next year. All three officers have been suspended since June 2021.
Although Dick, Solven and Mesbah appear to be the only Mounties currently facing code-of-conduct hearings, the court documents say seven other officers were also part of the private chat group — including two supervisors.
Among the details contained in the search warrant are allegations one of the officers facing discipline joked about a domestic violence victim, calling the victim "a dumb f--king bitch, should've worn a mouth guard."
The whistleblower — Const. Sam Sodhi — claimed that outside of the private chat group, members of the group also "belittled Indigenous people, talking about how they were 'stupid' or 'drunk' and saying they have 'unfortunate bodies' and all have fetal alcohol syndrome."
"They would say, 'We're not going to the reserve,'" the search warrant claims Sodhi told investigators.
"We're not going there because we're not going to help those people."
According to the court documents, Sodhi was posted to Coquitlam in 2019.
"As part of that process, he wrote a letter about wanting to work in an urban centre and help at-risk youth that didn't have role models," the warrant claims.
But Sodhi claimed that on his second day at work, Dick — his trainer — asked him: "Are you a cool brown guy, or are you a Surrey brown guy? Because in that letter, you're whiny, like, 'Ooh, I want to help brown people.'"
Sodhi claimed there were two chat groups for members of the Coquitlam detachment assigned to Port Coquitlam — one for all members of the watch and a second private group that began on WhatsApp but then moved to Signal. He said he was told once he was "worthy" of the private chat group, "we'll add you to it."
The officer claimed he was admitted to the private chat group in March 2021 but left after a few days because of the "constant negativity." He said he was then accused of "not being a team member" and encouraged to return.
According to the search warrant, Sodhi complained to his superiors in May 2021, and a chief superintendent mandated an investigation into five Mounties — including a corporal who was accused of failing to take measures to prevent misconduct.
The probe initially focused on text communications between the RCMP's own laptops — known as Mobile Data Terminals. Investigators reviewed messages between the five men from January 2019 until May 2021.
"When members of the [Signal] chat group realized there was an investigation, they opined that the investigation was probably about 'MDT chats' ... since the private chat group was kept 'amongst the trusted' and 'there's no way this got out,'" the warrant says.
Examples cited from the RCMP computers include statements like, "Why do brown guys have unusually high pitched voices." "As an idiot woman would say ... 'toxic,'" and, "I just racially profile pulled over a car."
A review of the chat logs also allegedly found the three officers facing termination "appeared to use 'goldfish' as a slur for Asian people."
"For example, they talked about how 'goldfish' have 'bulging eyes' that 'can't see anything,' how a Korean church in the detachment was a 'goldfish church' and how 'goldfish' were bad drivers (a common Asian stereotype)," the warrant says.
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strwberri-milk · 1 day
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Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC
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Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.
He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.
When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.
If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.
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Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.
The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.
He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.
He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.
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Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.
When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.
If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.
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Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.
Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.
When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.
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lilacxquartz · 2 days
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eat you up;
toji fushiguro x f!reader
a/n: smuturday is now in session — i’ll be posting these on occasion whenever i have a piece ready, usually these wont go over a wc of 1k.
tags/themes: reader insert, drabble, cunnilingus, oral, praise, smut • w.c: ~800 • masterlist, read on ao3
“And you’re sure you’ll be able to breathe?” you asked Toji, who was staring at you from the bed with a half lidded look.
He hummed, curling his lips into a teasing smile. “Babe, trust me. Even if you do, that’ll be the way I want to go.”
“Not helping…” you sighed, staring down at your bare legs. This was so much hotter when it was something you were both talking about, but now you had cold feet.
Toji propped himself up to his elbows, serving you a slightly annoyed look. The man loved everything about how you were, from your personality to your body to everything else in between; it was almost insulting to him with how much you doubted yourself.
“I got you,” he murmured, patting down his chest as though to get you closer. “My beautiful doll, let me worship you.”
You tried to bite back your worries and shuffled closer towards him, kneeling and crawling over the bed and hovering over him with your bare skin.
His smile widened, taking in the sight of you on top of him. “Now there’s a sight I can’t get tired of…”
“How do I do this anyway?” you fretted, staring down at him.
“Keep crawling,” he encouraged you, “quite literally just… straddle my face.”
You whined a little bit but did as he told and climbed over him, leaning forward against the headboard while your knees anchored opposite his head parallel to one another.
“Like this?” you quietly asked.
Toji flicked his lips to a half smile, taking in the sight of you hovering above him. Your scent of arousal was right in his face and he was loving every second of it, feeling completely in his element. How lucky he had gotten with you, he couldn’t help but think.
“Exactly like that, babe,” he hummed, raising his chin up slightly as his fingers delicately parted at your sex, “just like that…”
The second his tongue found your clit, you couldn’t help but gasp slightly; Toji was an expert seemingly at knowing what he was doing and where to point and how to move to get you to squirm right above his face.
“So responsive,” he muttered, slightly sounding muffled in between your legs. He could feel himself growing warm in all senses of the word—slight hints of redness crept onto his face—while something far below stirred. God, he was growing so hard at the thought of getting you off.
His large hands moulded into the soft contours of your ass, squeezing at your flesh like it belonged to him. His eyes were half lidded and almost zoned out, as though he was already lost in the moment. Toji lapped up at your now fully swollen bud, sucking at the skin in a crazed fervour, intoxicated by just how much you squirmed.
His voice was low and almost breathless as he on and off whispered pretty snippets of loving praise. It was a miracle that you had even heard of these musings, given just how hard your heartbeat thundered in both your chest as well as pulsating in your ears as well as just how needy, whiny and almost pleading your moans were as they slipped out.
“You taste so good,” you would hear him mumble out, his grip on your legs tightening as much as he could without hurting you, “relax for me, let me take care of you…”
Your body started to quiver as your sense of balance quickly weakened; your hands gripped at the headboard that you kept yourself steady on but that was all quickly faltering. “You’re too good at this,” you added in a strained gasp, feeling the tightness in your stomach begin to contract and pass in radiating waves. “Toji… I’m gonna—“
“—keep going, let go for me, doll,” he almost growled between laps, his voice coming out as barely coherent but by his motivated tone you could just about make it out.
His hands guided you even further down so that you were essentially burying him with your sex, but he couldn’t have been happier; he licked at you like a man thoroughly starved, relishing the sensation of the way you grinded against jaw with anticipated hunger.
Unable to contain it for a second longer, your body convulsed and came undone, feeling all of the rising pressure in your core sweep into an apex point of gushing, shuddering release.
Toji of course only pushed himself further inward, so proud of you for finally getting more comfortable but also in a state of complete and utter bliss.
Finally, he could show you again and again just how much he appreciated you and he could hardly wait until the next time.
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helen-with-an-a · 2 days
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Will there be a second part of "Be The Best" where the girls help the reader. But at some point, the father comes and says that the reader needs to become even better, but the girls stand up for him and drive him away.
Or where the reader turns out to be a good person and tries to make friends with everyone, but it turns out to be awkward.
Hiiiii - so this is a little sadder than I anticipated but I quite like it. I might make a pt3 I'm not to sure - what do you guys think/if you have any reqs for it? Also please just imagine that there's like a foresty/woodsy type bit at Colney
Be the Best pt 2
AWFC x reader ; Leah Williamson x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3
Description: R has some self-realisation after trying to make friends
Word count: 4.6k
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You had never felt so stupid in your life. Why? Why had you done that? Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you walked. You couldn’t let them fall. No emotion. The best don’t feel emotion.
It was lunch time, a time you usually spent eating alone before going on a walk around Colney, usually ending up in the gym. After much reassurance from Kim, you had finally worked up enough courage to approach some of the team. Kim had made it sound so simple – just walk up to them and ask if you could join. You had rehearsed it in your mind a dozen times, mentally preparing for every possible reaction.
But when you finally stood there, tray in hand, in front of the group of girls who seemed to belong to an entirely different world, everything went wrong. They were sitting in the corner of the canteen, their laughter and chatter like a bubble you had no idea how to penetrate. You were so sure you looked ridiculous – just standing there, awkward and unsure, as if you had no right to even be in their presence.
“Can I sit?” you grunted, the words leaving your mouth almost of their own accord. As soon as they were out, you regretted them. You kept your eyes glued to the tray in your hands, desperately avoiding the gazes you could feel boring into you. The food on your tray – the food that looked so nice when you picked it out, looked bland and unappetising now – suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. Anything to avoid looking up, to avoid seeing their reactions.
The silence that followed was suffocating. It stretched on, a tangible force pressing down on you, making you feel smaller and smaller with each passing second. The confidence you had painstakingly built up with Kim's encouragement was slipping away, like sand through your fingers. You had never felt so out of place, so exposed, as you did in that moment, standing there waiting for a response that never came.
Finally, you risked a glance up and caught Kyra’s wide, terrified eyes staring back at you. Did you really scare her that much? The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through you. Were you that terrifying that a simple question had her so scared? Was she always this afraid of you? You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, feeling more awkward by the second.
Alessia and Lotte exchanged concerned glances, their silent communication only adding to your growing unease. You could see the tension in their faces, the way they seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with you, as if your mere presence was some kind of problem they had to solve. Vic, who had always seemed so confident and collected, visibly gulped, her nervousness painfully clear.
No one spoke. No one moved. The entire canteen seemed to have dropped into a wary silence, as if the whole room was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. It was like a switch had flipped, and suddenly you were the centre of attention. The air was thick with unease, the kind that made your skin prickle and your heart pound.
What the fuck were you doing? The question echoed in your mind, growing louder with each passing second. You couldn’t sit with them. You didn’t belong there, in their world, no matter how much you wanted to. The realisation hit you like a punch to the gut, and the embarrassment that followed was almost too much to bear. You don’t need to sit with them, you told yourself, trying to salvage what little dignity you had left.
And then, just as quickly as you had convinced yourself to approach, you mumbled something unintelligible – a mix between an apology and an excuse that even you couldn’t understand – and turned on your heel. The shame was like a weight on your back, driving you away from the table, away from the awkward silence that had frozen you in place.
You walked as quickly as you could without breaking into a run, your feet carrying you away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the burn of tears threatening to spill over, but you forced them back, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat.
You continued walking out of the canteen, your footsteps quick and unsteady, the tray of food abandoned on a random table near the door in your haste to get away. The clatter of the tray as it hit the table echoed in your ears, but you didn’t care. You just needed to escape. The walls of the canteen felt like they were closing in on you, the stares of the other students—real or imagined—burning into your back.
The gym. That’s what you would normally do to squash the feelings down. It was your sanctuary, the one place where everything made sense, where you could channel everything into something physical, something real. There was nothing like running until you felt like your legs were going to give out, or punching the bags hanging in the corner until your arms ached and your hands were bloody. Pain was something you could deal with; it was tangible, controllable. The emotions, though – they were a different beast entirely. The best didn’t feel emotions. You had told yourself that so many times it had become a mantra. Emotions made you weak, and you couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now, not ever.
But you would be easily found in the gym. It was the first place anyone would look, and you couldn’t bear the thought of someone finding you like this – sweaty, shaking, and teetering on the edge of a breakdown. You didn’t want to be found. You couldn’t let anyone see the cracks in the armour you’d worked so hard to build. Not now, not after what had just happened. You had embarrassed yourself in front of the team, made a fool of yourself by going against your instincts, by trying to reach out and connect when you knew better.
You needed to find somewhere to hide, somewhere you could lick your wounds in peace. The locker room was out of the question – too many people coming and going, too many chances for awkward questions and pitying looks. The thought of facing anyone right now was unbearable.
You found yourself heading for the back exit of the gym, the one that led out to the far side of the training grounds. It was quieter there, the paths less travelled, especially at this time of day. You pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool air, the breeze hitting your face like a slap. You bit your lip, the pain momentarily distracting you from the hurt of your stupidity.  The coolness of the air was a sharp contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside, and for a moment, it felt like you could finally breathe again.
The gravel crunched beneath your shoes, the sound oddly satisfying, grounding you in the present. You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, but you didn’t care. You just needed to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the people inside. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You bit your lip even harder, tasting iron on your tongue. The best don’t feel emotions. The best don’t need friends. The best train and work hard. The best practice until they physically drop. You didn’t need anyone else, didn’t need to put yourself in situations where you felt so exposed. So why had you allowed yourself to think, even for a moment, that this time might be different?
The girls’ faces flashed in your mind – Kyra’s wide, startled eyes, Alessia and Lotte’s concerned glances, Vic’s visible gulp. The sudden silence of the canteen echoed in your mind. They hadn’t known what to do with you, hadn’t known how to react, and that stung more than you wanted to admit. A solitary tear rolled down your cheek. Besides that day in the media room with Kim, you don’t remember the last time you cried.
Actually, that was a lie. You remember the exact time and place where you last cried. You were 10, you had just received the academy letter that you were to be their second-choice goalkeeper for the Under 12s. You had shown your mum, she had been so excited for you, beckoning your father over to have a look. He had told you it was first choice or nothing. If you weren’t going to be the best, then you shouldn’t even bother. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, clutching the letter so tightly that you woke up with paper cuts. You wanted to prove him wrong, to show him that you could be the best, but that tiny voice in your head, the one that echoed his words, made you doubt yourself. It made you wonder if you’d ever be good enough.
The sky had transitioned from a soft amber glow to a deepening indigo, the kind of blue that swallows the light whole. You had found a bench just off the path, hidden by a canopy of trees that whispered in the evening breeze. The bench was old, the wood splintered and weathered. It was a place where you could disappear, if only for a little while.
You had never missed training before. Not even when you were 18 and had pneumonia. You could still remember that week, the way your chest burned with every breath, your lungs heavy with fluid that rattled every time you inhaled. But you stayed bundled in layers, forcing your body through drills with single-minded determination. Your coach had asked if you were okay, concern flickering across his face, but you’d just nodded, pushing past the exhaustion and pain. You could barely breathe, but missing training wasn’t an option. Not then, and not now. Or at least, that’s what you’d always believed. The best doesn’t show weakness. But today was different. Today, you couldn’t find that strength. The drive that usually pushed you onto the pitch, no matter how tired or sick you were, had vanished. Instead, you felt drained, hollowed out by emotions you didn’t know how to handle.
You shivered slightly, a definite autumnal nip to the late summer evening. The long sleeve top you wore did little to prevent the cold from settling on your skin, but you welcomed the chill. It kept you grounded, made the swirling thoughts in your head a little less chaotic. The cold helped you think, or at least gave you something tangible to focus on when your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.
Your mind kept drifting back to Kyra. She had looked so genuinely scared of you. The memory of her wide, startled eyes made your stomach twist with guilt. You’d never seen her like that before – Kyra, who was always so confident, so full of life. She’d looked at you like you were a stranger; someone she didn’t recognise. And maybe, in that moment, you were. Maybe you didn’t recognise yourself either.
You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly as if the pressure could hold you together. The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above you, and you closed your eyes, letting the sound wash over you. It was peaceful here, away from the noise and the people and the expectations. But the peace was deceptive, fragile. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually, you’d have to go back, face the reality of your team. The cold crept deeper into your bones, but you didn’t move. You deserved this discomfort, this numbness.
A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another. You wiped them away quickly, but more followed, and soon you were crying in earnest, silent sobs that shook your shoulders and left you gasping for breath. You hadn’t cried like this in years, hadn’t allowed yourself to. But now, alone in the dark, surrounded by nothing but trees and the fading light, you let the tears come.
It wasn’t just Kyra’s fear that haunted you, but the realization that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as strong as you thought. The thought was terrifying, a crack in the foundation you’d built your entire life on. If you weren’t the best, if you weren’t unbreakable, then what were you? Who were you?
The tears slowed eventually, leaving you drained and exhausted. You rested your head on your knees, staring blankly at the ground as the darkness settled in around you. The training session was definitely over by now, the team heading back to the locker room, wondering where you were. They’d ask questions tomorrow, they’d want to know why you weren’t there, and you didn’t have any answers to give them.
But for now, you stayed on the bench, hidden away from the world, trying to piece yourself back together. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever, but for a little while longer, you allowed yourself to be weak, to be human. The best doesn’t show weakness – those were the words you’d lived by for so long. You didn’t know how to live without them.
You heard footsteps approaching. Whoever it was, was moving wearily - each step slow and calculated, like trying to approach a frightened animal. Is that what they saw you as? A wounded creature that had to be handled with caution, a volatile presence they needed to tread carefully around to protect themselves? The thought stung more than it should have. You used to like having that barrier. That bubble of self-protection that kept you alive.
You kept your eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to acknowledge whoever was coming. Maybe if you stayed still, they’d turn back, leave you to your thoughts. But the footsteps continued, growing closer until they finally stopped just a few feet away. You could feel the presence lingering there, the silence heavy between you.
“Hey,” a voice broke through the quiet, soft and hesitant. It was Leah. You didn’t need to look up to know it was her – her voice was unmistakable, that Milton Keynes accent audible even on a single syllable word. You didn’t need to be told why they had sent her to find you. She was your national captain, your club’s vice-captain. You had always respected her.
You didn’t respond immediately. You didn’t really know what to say. You let the silence linger, stretching on to the point where Leah questioned if you even heard her. The silence hung between you, thick and heavy. Leah’s words were gentle, but they carried weight. “You missed training.” It was a simple statement of fact, but it felt like more – a subtle nudge, a reminder of the responsibility you’d momentarily abandoned. You expected her to follow it up with something more – maybe a reprimand, maybe an expectation that you explain yourself. But instead, Leah just sat there, her presence calm and steady.
You could feel her eyes on you, but you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. What could you possibly tell her that she didn’t already know? She had seen what happened in the canteen. She had seen your stupid attempt to make amends. She had seen everything.
But Leah didn’t push. She didn’t demand answers or try to fill the silence with empty words. Instead, she simply waited, giving you the space to speak when you were ready – or not, if that’s what you needed. It was one of the reasons you respected her so much. She understood that sometimes, silence spoke louder than words.
“You don’t have to explain,” Leah finally said, her tone soft, understanding. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all that matters.”
Her words caught you off guard. You’d expected some kind of judgment, some level of disappointment that you’d let the team down, but instead, there was just concern. Genuine concern, not just for the team, but for you. It was a foreign feeling; one you weren’t sure how to process.
“Kim told me that you were thinking of trying to start sitting with people at lunch,” she continued, her voice gentle but probing. There was no judgment in her words, just a simple observation. It was as if she was giving you an opening, a chance to share what was really going on inside your head. But even with the invitation, the words still felt tangled up inside you, too messy to untangle in front of someone else.
You shifted uncomfortably on the bench, the rough wood digging into your legs, grounding you in the present moment. It had seemed like such a simple idea at the time – a small step toward breaking down the walls you’d built around yourself, a way to prove to the team that you were trying, that you wanted to be a part of things. But now, in the cold light of Leah’s concern, it felt almost childish. What had you really expected? That one gesture would erase months of distance, that a seat at the table would magically make everything better?
“Am … am I a bully?” It was something that had been floating around your head all afternoon. No one looked that scared, that nervous of someone unless they had valid cause.
Leah’s eyes widened slightly at your question, and for a moment, she seemed taken aback. But she recovered quickly, her expression softening as she took in the vulnerability behind your words. She didn’t rush to answer, clearly understanding the weight of what you’d just asked.
“No,” she said firmly, her voice gentle but resolute. “You’re not a bully.”
You wanted to believe her, but the doubt still gnawed at you, clawing at the edges of your mind. “My dad’s a bully. And I act like him.”
Leah's expression shifted, her brows furrowing slightly as she processed your words. There was no immediate response, just a thoughtful silence that hung between you. You could see the wheels turning in her mind, the careful consideration she was giving to what you had just said.
“You’re not your dad,” Leah finally said, her voice steady and calm.
“But I act like him.” Your voice held no emotion. These were simple facts. At least in your mind. “He screams and shouts at me for the smallest thing. I shouted at Kyra in a training session. I asked if she was deaf or just stupid. I told her she shouldn’t think. I shout at everyone. I told Alessia she was a waste of money. I said to Laia that she was useless, and I couldn’t understand how she won the World Cup with her defensive skills. I said we were doing better without Laura during her first session back. I told Jen I was glad to see her go because we would make fewer stupid mistakes”
You weren’t proud of anything you said. Each accusation felt like a knife twisting in your chest. The realisation of the hurt you had inflicted was almost unbearable. You could see their faces in your mind – Kyra’s eyes wide and a little glossy with hurt, Alessia’s shoulders slumping, Laia’s frustration, and Jen’s quiet resignation. You knew you’d been mean, knew that all those little comments had chipped away at people’s confidence and self-worth. It was the technique your dad and old coaches had done to you. In order to be the best, you must be broken and rebuilt. Your dad had broken you a long time ago.
 Leah listened intently, her eyes never leaving yours as you laid out the fears that had been gnawing at you. Her eyes widened slightly as you listed the hurtful things you’d said. The gravity of your admissions was evident in the way her expression softened, shifting from surprise to deep concern. She took a moment before responding, her voice steady but compassionate.
“What do you think when you let a goal in?” The question took you by surprise. The question hung in the air, unexpected and almost jarring in its simplicity. For a moment, you were caught off guard, trying to piece together why Leah would ask something so seemingly unrelated.
“That I’m worthless. What’s the point in having a keeper if they can’t stop the goals, right?” You sniffed a little, thinking about all the self-deprecating thoughts that course through your mind at lightning speed if you let a goal in. You bit your lip, letting the familiar pain wash over you. 
Leah's eyes remained locked on yours, her gaze filled with a mix of concern and understanding. She took a moment to absorb your words before responding, her voice calm and measured. “Who told you that?” You blinked, looking at for her a brief second, confusion clouding your mind. “Who told you that you’re worthless if you let a goal in?”
“My … my dad, my old coaches. But everyone knows that goalkeeper’s who can’t keep clean sheets are useless," you laughed humourlessly. "I mean, look at our Champions League matches last season, we lost on penalties, that’s my fault. We came third in the league, I let too many goals in. We crash out of the FA cup because of a goal that I could’ve easily stopped. I let a goal in the Conti cup. All of them are my fault. I wasn’t good enough. And with England? I let the goal in in the World Cup, our Nations League losses were all my fault, goals that shouldn’t have been scored. I’m the reason we weren’t at the Olympics this year. We qualified for the Euros by the skin of our teeth – we lost to France and drew to Sweden on home soil.” It was the rhetoric that had been spewed to you all summer. Every day, you needed to be better, do better, be the best, you couldn’t make a mistake. Look at what mistakes had cost you.
Leah listened carefully. Yes, she knew you carried each loss personally, but she didn’t know you took it this badly. She could see the deep exhaustion in your bones, the deep circles under your eyes, the paleness in your skin. You looked like you hadn’t had a proper rest in years. Each statement you made was like a dagger, not only piercing through your own sense of self-worth but also hitting Leah in a place she hadn’t expected. The weight of your guilt and frustration was palpable, and it was clear how deeply you were affected by every perceived failure.
She could see the toll this relentless self-blame was taking on you. Leah had known about the pressure you faced, but hearing the full extent of your suffering was sobering. It was one thing to understand the high stakes of professional sports, but it was another to see someone so dedicated and talented struggle under the crushing burden of their own expectations. She was struck by how your relentless pursuit of perfection, driven by past experiences and harsh criticisms, had led you to this place of self-doubt. The emotional scars were clearer now, and Leah could see that your harshest critic wasn’t just your dad or your old coaches – it was yourself.
Leah’s heart ached for you. She remembered her own struggles, the pressure to perform and the fear of failure that often accompanied high-level competition. But what you were expressing went beyond that. It wasn’t just about the weight of a single match or a missed opportunity; it was about a pattern of self-destruction that had become ingrained, a relentless inner voice that constantly reminded you of every shortcoming.
“I’ve heard it all before,” you continued, your voice cracking as you went. “Every mistake, every goal that went in was my fault. If I don’t perform perfectly, then I’m useless. I’m supposed to be the last line of defence. What good is a goalkeeper that lets goals in? In order to be the best, you must be broken and rebuilt.” You sounded so lost, in so much pain. Yet you clearly believed every word you were saying.
Leah’s eyes softened even more as she listened to your words. The silence that followed your last statement was heavy, thick with unspoken emotions. Leah let it linger, allowing the gravity of your confession to settle between you.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, yet full of determination. "I don’t believe that," she said firmly. "I don’t believe that you have to be broken to be the best. And I don’t think anyone should make you feel that way."
You looked at her, an unfamiliar ache in your chest tightening as you tried to absorb what she was saying. "But I am broken," you whispered, the words almost choking you. "I’ve been broken so many times. I don’t even know who I am anymore, Leah. All I know is that I have to be perfect, or everything falls apart."
Leah shook her head, her expression resolute. "You’re not broken," she insisted. "You’re hurt. And there’s a difference. You’ve been hurt by people who should have supported you, people who should have built you up instead of tearing you down. But that doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human."
Your breath hitched as you processed her words. They were so different from the ones you had grown accustomed to hearing, the harsh criticisms and impossible expectations that had been drilled into you for years. Part of you wanted to reject them, to cling to the familiar pain because it was what you knew. But another part of you, a small, fragile part, wanted desperately to believe that Leah was right.
Leah reached out, placing a hand on your arm, her touch gentle and reassuring. "You’re not alone," she said softly. "We all make mistakes. We all have moments when we don’t perform the way we want to. But that doesn’t define us. You’re so much more than those moments. And you’re allowed to be human, to have bad days, to not be perfect all the time."
You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, trying to maintain control. It was hard, though, with Leah looking at you like that, with so much compassion and understanding in her eyes. "What if I’m not good enough?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
Leah moved over slightly, shuffling across the bench until she was almost touching you. "You are good enough," she said firmly. “We are a team. We help each other be the best. We rely on each other and push each other to be better. We can start slowly, there’s a team bonding next week. We’re going to the cinema and then out for a meal and drinks. I know you don’t usually come but how about you turn up. If you don’t like it or you want to go home, you can do – no questions asked.” You had never been to the cinema before. At least not that you can remember – maybe when you were a kid?
“Cinema … that sounds … nice.”
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changetyre · 3 days
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Make a wish
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SUMMARY: It's Ivy's 2nd Birthday and her birthday wish is a little bigger than you'd expected. Part of Verstappen Family Verse
WARNINGS: None?
A/N: Requested over on wattpad ;)
"Oh no Max the party hats, I forgot to get party hats." Your heart sunk to your stomach. 
"No, I bought some." Max calmed you down. 
Today was Ivy's 2nd birthday and she had been so insistent about celebrating her birthday at a race with her Papa and Uncles despite you telling her she could have a big birthday party at home with her friends. Ivy almost cried when you suggested something else wanting nothing more but to be at the "waces!" for her birthday. 
Despite this, you still wanted her birthday to have somewhat of a little celebration so you'd spent days making and decorating cupcakes to take to the paddock and buying some decorations for Ivy. 
You'd wanted everything to be a surprise so you'd mostly work at night so that the girls didn't see you because you also knew that if Lea saw anything she would definitely say something since she was as good at keeping secrets as her uncle Lando.  
But Max could tell how stressed and tired you'd grown with trying to get everything perfect for her and he was glad it was finally the day so you could relax a little. You'd woken up earlier to get the stuff in the car so that Brad could drive it to the track before you arrived with Max, Ivy, and Lea. 
"Okay, I'll go now." Brad got in the car to drive off. 
"Wait no did I bring down the streamers?" You asked. 
"Yes," Max answered waving Brad away. 
"Wait what about the-" 
"Schatje, everything's there." Max cupped your face to get you to look at him. 
"But what if-" 
"If it's not she won't even notice darling, it'll be perfect because we'll be there." Max kissed you not letting you argue further. He could feel you relax in his arms. 
"I'm sorry, I just want everything to be perfect." You hugged your husband tightly. 
"You'll never reach perfection baby, trust me I've tried" Max kissed your head. "But you're close enough and Ivy's gonna love whatever we do for her." 
 __________
"PAPA WOOK!" Ivy yelled excitedly as she ran out of her room. 
Max turned to see his daughter in a big puffy Belle dress which she had begged him to buy for her birthday. 
"Oh my god is that Belle?" Max gasped dramatically. 
You stood by the door watching the interaction with loving eyes. 
"No Papa is me Iby!" Ivy ran up to her dad who lifted her up and twirled her around. 
"How's my gorgeous birthday girl?" Max kissed her cheeks. 
"Papa I tuwn two." Ivy held up her tiny hand trying to hold up 2 fingers but her third finger kept slipping out of the grasp of her little thumb and pinky finger. 
"Yes, you do and you need to stop growing." Max hugged her closer sighing at the idea of his girls growing up. 
A few seconds later Lea peaked her head around the corner of her room. "Mamma?" She called your name. 
"You ready baby?" You asked your daughter whom you'd also bought a dress for since you wanted to make sure she didn't feel left out. 
She nodded shyly, she'd started growing shy around you and her dad lately whenever she showed you something which you found adorable. 
She walked out wearing her Belle dress too except hers was the blue town dress and you'd helped her put a blue bow on her hair. 
"What a gorgeous princess!" Max also sighed dramatically while holding Ivy who clapped in his arms happily. 
You had breakfast quickly, the girls and you having pancakes as a treat for Ivy's birthday while Max had to eat something else to keep his weight down for getting in the car later. 
You strapped everyone into the car and off you went to the race track. 
________
As soon as you arrived there were cameras everywhere but by now the girls were used to it especially Lea who liked to pose for the cameras despite Max and you telling her to keep her head low. 
"Mama Wando?" Lea pointed down to the McLaren hospitality as you approached the Redbull hospitality. 
"Maybe we'll see him later Ivy he's not here yet." You lied and heard her sigh sadly as she rested her head on your shoulder.
You'd arrived at the track pretty early since Max didn't have to be on the track until around 4 today but as a surprise for Ivy's birthday, You and Max had asked the boys if they could arrive early to surprise Ivy for her birthday knowing she would just want to spend the day with her favorite people. 
You walked into the Redbull hospitality and Brad, Vicky, and other staff members were there ready just like planned. 
"Ivy look!" Max called out to his daughter who lifted her head from your shoulder to look towards her dead. 
"SURPRISE!" They called out as party poppers went off and confetti flew everywhere Ivy's eyes and mouth were wide open as she looked around the decorated room. 
She squealed in your arms squirming for you to put her down and as soon as you did she went running to where there were presents and a huge cake with a small fondant F1 car where Ivy was the driver wearing a tiara. 
"PAPA LOOK!" Ivy called out to her dad pointing at the top of the cake. 
"Wow, Ivy." Max gasped surprised as if he hadn't specifically asked for her cake. 
You looked around to look for Lea just to find her munching away at the snacks that were laid out across the snack table despite eating breakfast not long ago. Just as you turned again you noticed Lando, Dani, Carlos, and Charles at the door, Ivy too distracted looking at her cake with her dad to notice. 
"Come in." You waved the drivers over. Max had previously discussed all of this with Christian and he'd gladly accepted having the drivers over at the hospitality for a few hours for the celebration. 
"MY BABY!" Lando yelled as soon as he was inside. 
Ivy's head snapped immediately in the direction of her favorite person. "WANDOOOO!" She yelped as she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her towards her godfather. 
Lea hearing the commotion turned around and also ran towards her godfather, Daniel scooping her up in her arms happily. 
It didn't take long for the rest of the drivers to pile in and Ivy excitedly greeted everyone although always kept coming back to Lando's arms. 
Although you'd insisted they didn't have to bring anything you weren't surprised to see the gift table had doubled in numbers at all the gifts the drivers had bought only hoping they hadn't spent ridiculous amounts of money on a 2-year-old. 
"Happy Birthday dear Ivy! Happy Birthday to you!" Everyone finished singing as Max held Lea in his arms, you holding Lea in yours as you stood behind the birthday cake. Antoine, Louis, and Joris moved across taking pictures and videos of your family per their own request as you'd told them they didn't need to take any pictures and you'd be happy with simply their presence but they insisted. 
"Make a wish princess." Max lowered Ivy so she could blow at her candles. 
"I wish for a widdle broder!" Ivy yelled out unashamedly blowing out her candles afterwards. 
You and Max looked at each other in shock as everyone around you burst out laughing. "Uh, you're meant to say your wish in your head baby," Max told his daughter not really sure how to proceed. 
"hmm." She shrugged unbothered as she squirmed for Max to put her down. "Wando Cake!" She called out to her godfather who gladly came over to help Ivy start cutting the cake (horribly). 
After everyone got a piece and Lea sat sharing her piece with Lando on his lap you all sat and relaxed for a while, Max by your side as Lea played around with Joris and Charles whom she still had an obsession with. 
Max turned to you blinking hard three times, his little I love you gesture. "So what do you think about Ivy's wish huh?" Max asked you. 
You laughed at the thought. Max laughing with you. "If it's with you I want it all." You told him lovingly. 
"In another year?" Max dragged your chair closer to him so there was barely a gap between the both of you. 
"Sounds good to me." You smiled before Max kissed you lovingly. 
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alastor-simp · 1 day
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“I Won’t Ever Be Scared Of You” - Alastor x Female Reader
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❥Summary: Alastor transforms into his demon form to defend the hotel. He promised himself he would never reveal that side of himself to you, but what happens when you do see it?
❥Tags: Sequel, Alastor x Fem Reader, Unafraid Reader, Alastor Demon Form, Hazbin Hotel Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad Episode, Mimzy, Lucifer Morningstar, Confessions, Friends to Lovers.
❥Notes: This is the sequel to a previous story I had written "I See No Fear In Your Eyes." I really wanted to do a bit of a continuation on how the story ended, so I conjured this up. This also takes placed during episode 5 (Dad Beat Dad) of Hazbin Hotel. Hope you all like it. Enjoy:)
Sequel to this fanfic I wrote - Link
"LETS GO EVERYONE!!! WE GOTTA MAKE THIS PLACE PERFECT FOR WHEN MY DAD GETS HERE!!" Charlies voice rang out in the lobby, as everyone scattered about, preparing for when the king of hell arrived. Husk and Niffty started to sweep up while Sir Pentious helped to bake cookies for everyone and Lucifer. You decided to help string up some welcoming decorations around the higher part of the wall, as well as place a "Welcome" sign for the king to see when he arrived. You had never met Charlies dad before, sparking your curiosity on what he was like.
Your thoughts were cut off by loud static surrounding you, making you turn to see Alastor next to you, eyes monitoring the door with a strong hatred, demonic symbols floating above him. What's up with him? Finishing what you were doing, you walked closer to Al and gave him a bit of a poke on his side. His eyes quickly flashed towards you in anger, until he realized it was only you, which calmed him down. Ever since the confession you had at his radio tower about why you didn't fear him, your relationship with him had grown. His mannerisms were still the same, but he had adopted a softer, sweeter demeanor when he was around you, even allowing you to touch him on certain accusations. You still hadn't figured what to call this relationship you now had with Al. Affectionate friends or very close partners? It wasn't romantic per say, but it still left you a bit confused. "Oh, Hello my dear! Something troubling you?" Alastor tilted his head at you, eyes growing soft at the sight of you. "I should be asking you that. Whats with the sudden power surge? Are you angry about something?" Alastor froze for a moment, hands grasping at his microphone a bit tightly before turning to gaze back at the door. "No." Alastor said it quickly, but you can tell he wasn't being truthful. "Do you dislike Lucifer?" You asked him with a tilt of your head, copying him. Alastor remained silent before he gave a loud sigh. "I'm not very fond of him, my dear. He is the ruler of hell, with tremendous power, and yet he hides himself away and refuses to accept his responsibilities."
His eyes had turned into radio dials, for a split second before calming down, yet his smile was widen enough to reveal his black gums. Giving a sigh, you motioned to grab one of Alastor's hands that was still holding his microphone tightly, giving it a soft squeeze, causing Al to look at you with confusion. "Look, this is important to Charlie, and she needs to ask her dad for help with heaven. I'm not telling you to all of a sudden change your view on him, but please try to behave a bit. Just for today, please?" Alastor's eyes continued to stare at you, before he closed them and opened them again with softness. He could never refuse those kind eyes of yours. "Alright, my dear. Its a deal!" He said, jokingly, making you laugh. "Thanks Al." You gave his hand, another squeeze before letting it go, going back to setting up.
Fast forwarding to now, you watched as both Alastor and Lucifer were having a "I'm the better dad" song battle for Charlie. Welp, you tried. You knew Al had tried his best, but after a couple insults between the two, the deal you had with him completely broke, honestly it was shocking to hear Alastor say "F✪✪k you" since he has almost never swore ever, since he arrived at the hotel. The song fight continued on, until it was interrupted by a short chubby demon, who came badgering inside the hotel. She quickly introduced herself as Mimzy, one of Alastor close friends, and also being a singer at a club she ran. She started chatting with everyone at the hotel, indulging herself in the liquor that was at the bar, it was surprising how much she could drink. You noticed that some of the liquor supply was getting low, so you thought it would be best to get some more, since everything had calmed down a bit. You had pulled Charlie to the side, letting her know that you were going out for a bit to get some more alcohol for the bar, which she nodded at, giving you a thumbs up before she run back over to chat with her dad. Grabbing your wallet, you ventured out the hotel, looking back to see the others listening to Mimzy chatting about before you went outside and shut the door.
*Few Hours Later*
"MIMZY!! WE KNOW YOUR IN THERE, YOU LOUSY BIT✪✪!". A voice rang out as a loud bang was heard from the other side of the hotel doors, causing the hotel to shake. A group of loan sharks had arrived at the hotel, heavily armed with weapons and attempting to break down the hotel doors with a battering ram. The residents of the hotel began to panic as large fireballs were crashing through the windows, nearly hitting them and causing large shards of glass to scatter everywhere. Vaggie had quickly grabbed her spear, ready to fight the loan sharks, until a hand was place on her weapon, causing her to lower it. "No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am h̨̭̹̠̍̚e̷͑ͥr͉͢͝ȩ̬̤̺̇ͮ̕."
The air inside the hotel began to change, as the static started to get louder. Alastors eyes had turned demonic and a green aura began to cover the whole hotel. Dark tendrils had materialized from Alastors back, allowing him to levitate into the air. "A reminder to all, ŇØŦ ŦØ Μ€ŞŞ ŴƗŦĦ ŦĦ€ ŘΔĐƗØ Đ€ΜØŇ!" Belting out an evil cackle, the tendrils had bursted out of the hotel, destroying the catapult, and crushing the loan sharks into bloody puddles. Growing into a monstrous height, Alastor emerged out of the hotel doors, horns growing in size as well as his eyes turning into radio dials and multiple tentacles protruding from his back; "Ɨ ŴƗŁŁ Đ€VØỮŘ €ΔĆĦ ΔŇĐ €V€Ř¥ ØŇ€ Ø₣ ¥ØỮ!
*Alastor POV*
"Oh how much I have missed this!" Alastor thought to himself, as he massacred the loan sharks that were scattered outside the hotel, running for their lives to escape his deadly clutches. It was futile, as no one comes into the radio demons territory and gets away with it. Scanning his eyes for more prey, he held one of the poor souls in his hand before dropping him in his jaws. "Hmm not quite as tasty as venison, but who could resist fresh sushi!" Alastor thought, as he cackled away, his tentacles continued to tear apart the loan sharks to pieces, organs and blood scattering the ground. The screams soon stopped and the only sound that could be heard was overwhelming static and monstrous growls, as glowing bright eyes scanned all over, making sure all of the annoying pests were disposed of. "Al?" a soft voice had come from below him, making him freeze in shock. Turning around in his gigantic form, his eyes casted down, spotting you, gazing up at him with wide eyes, mouth opened into a perfect O shape.
"Oh no! Oh no no no no no! She wasn't meant to see this! She wasn't meant to see this grotesque part of me!" His thoughts were scattering, feeling fear for the first time. Alastor remembered when he promised himself that he would never have you see his true demonic form, fearing that once you saw how he looked, the eyes that you gave him that held no fear, would be no more. A sinner as sweet as you, who confessed to him about everything that you admired about him to his face, shouldn't have to see this. Alastor didn't know what to do and quickly turned away from you, ashamed at himself, until he heard a "Wow!" from behind him
*Your POV*
"WOAHHH HE'S SO TALL!" Your mind was racing with many thoughts, as you walked closer to Al, putting the bag of alcohol bottles down on the ground. "Holy crap, you got very big. Can you hear me from up there Al?" You raised your voice up a bit louder, figuring Al couldn't hear you since he was almost the size of the hotel now. Alastor slowly turned back around, with his radio dial eyes still present, but they looked at you with slight concern. Alastor had bent down a bit, trying to get closer to you, but keeping a good distance as he worried it would startle you. "Đ؀ޅ.ĐØ€Ş ŦĦƗŞ ŞƗĐ€ Ø₣ Μ€ ŇØŦ ₣ŘƗǤĦŦҀР¥ØỮ, Μ¥ Đ€ΔŘ? His voice was booming, possible due to being in his demonic form, but it was softer then when he was munching on the loan sharks. Gazing up at Al with confusion, you asked him why would you be frightened. Alastor had closed his eyes, turning his head to face away from you; "Ɨ ΜΔĐ€ Δ ƤŘØΜƗŞ€ ŦØ Μ¥Ş€Ł₣ ŦĦΔŦ ¥ØỮ Ŵ€Ř€ ŦØ Ň€V€Ř Ş€€ ŦĦƗŞ ŞƗĐ€ Ø₣ Μ€"
Narrowing your eyes at him , you let out a huff, before walking closer to him. "Pick me up." Alastor turned back around in shock, not expecting you to say that. After some hesitation, Alastor placed one of his large hands down in front of you, allowing you to step on to it. Holding on to one of his large fingers, you allowed him to hoist you up, becoming eye level now. Once you were eye to eye with him, you crooked your finger at him, telling him to move closer. Alastor hesitated again before moving his head closer towards you, his forehead and eyes being extremely close to you. Reaching one of your hands up, you placed it on his forehead, before moving closer and pressing a soft kiss on it. Alastor eyes had widen at your actions, but he didn't move from his position, as you continued to pepper kisses on his forehead. Removing your lips, you nuzzled your forehead against his, "Alastor, I told you before that I would never grow to fear you. Whatever form you take, I will never be afraid of you." Stepping back, you gazed into his bright eyes, lips drew into a soft smile.
Crimson dial eyes remained locked on you, as they slowly closed. A chuckle was heard from Al, as he shook his head from side to side, before moving closer to you, placing his forehead back against yours softly. "Darling, what a wonder you are." His voice had returned to normal, no ounce of static etched in it. The two of you remained in that position, before Alastor had pulled away, bright eyes peering at you with admiration. "As much as I love this form of yours, it would be better if you shrunk back down, especially since you won't be able to fit through the doors." You said with a laugh, earning you a loud booming laugh from Alastor, as his whole being shook, having to hold on to his fingers to steady yourself. "I suppose your right." Alastor said, as he slowly brought his hand back to the ground, allowing you to jump off his hand.
Your eyes continued to gaze at him, as his body slowly began to shrink, eyes returning back to normal slits, and large tentacles disappearing from his back. He was soon back to his old self, rubbing parts of his suit to be rid of any dirt or grime. His joker-like smile was still trained on you, but it was full of tenderness, as he look down at you. "There he is, the handsome devilish radio demon is back!" Smiling brightly at him, you placed your hand against his cheek, giving it a soft rub. Alastor gave you a genuine smile, grabbing your hand from his cheek and placing a soft kiss on to it. Releasing your hand, his arms had wrapped around your back, pulling you into a soft hug, his head moving closer to your neck, giving it a nuzzle, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of clapping behind the both of you. Looking ahead, you saw Mimzy approaching, a bit of a smirk on her face. "Oh Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always. Thanks for helpin' lil' old me out of a tough spot, you're always such a pal!" Her dialogue got cut off, as some debris from the hotel fell next to her, making her jump a bit in shock. Appearing unapologetic, she looked back at the two of you, "Oops. Heheheh… sorry about the mess, but I'm sure the lil' bug can take care of it for ya."
Alastor had loosened the hug, turning all the way around, but not before hooking his arm with yours, keeping you close to him. His smile was still stretched out as always, but his eyes held irritation. "I think you should go, Mimzy. Now." He said towards Mimzy, stunning her for a bit. "Oh pff, Alastor, you're such a kidder, you! Haha, you are so funny!" She flicked her hand at him, not taking him seriously, but you knew that expression he wore, he was not in a joking mood, his eyes lacking mischief. "I mean it. You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can't have that here." He had pulled you a bit closer, as he continued to talk with Mimzy, clearly telling her to f✪✪k off. She apparently did not take the hint, as she continue to ramble on, "But you love takin' care a' me! What? You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on. I know you. you heartless son of a bi✪✪h~" Her finger continued to poke at his chest, causing him to let out a small growl.
Grabbing her finger from his chest, you pushed it off him, glaring down at her. "I believe he told you to leave." Mimzy did not appreciate you touching her and scoffed at you. "And who the hell are you dollface?" Wow, she even forgot who you were, and she literally just met you a few hours ago, when she barged in. "I'm the one who knows and sees the real Alastor, and doesn't try to exploit him to get out of sticky situations." Alastor eyes had widen at your words, a bit shocked at this fiery side of yours. Mimzy had backed up a bit, not expecting that: "Well I-" "Did I stutter? Leave!" Your words had cut her off, as you continued to glare down at her. Huffing while stomping her feet, she walked past the both of you: "Well fine! Who needs ya!" She continued to stomp away, not before flipping the both of you off.
You continued to glare at her when she walked away, before you got distracted by the sound of static-filled laugther next to you. "My my~ Who knew you were such a firecracker, my dear." Al had unhooked his arm from yours, but he wrapped it around your back pulling you closer. You gazed up at Al, who was smirking down at you, making you flush a bit. "You weren't meant to see that, I'm sorry." Your head dropped down in shame, until a hand had hooked your chin, motioning your head to look back up at him. "I quite like it, ma chérie. Just as you love the many sides of me, I very much enjoy this feisty side of you." His finger had traced your bottom lip, his crimson eyes filled with a strong desire as well as adoration. Inching closer, his lips had placed itself against your redden cheek, causing your heart to skip a beat. Pulling back, his smile was gentle, before he stood back to his regular height, his hand moving from your back to one of your open palms, interlocking your fingers. "Come along, my dear. We better head back inside!" He pulled you along, having you walk next to him, as you made your way back towards the hotel. He had snapped his fingers, using his powers to have the bag of liquor levitate behind the both of you. His hand was so warm. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, which he reciprocated back as you both went back inside to join the others.
-END-
Sinners:
@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic
@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,
@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,
@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,
@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,
@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao
, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,
@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,
@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,
@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,
@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,
@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,
@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,
@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,
@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,
@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,
@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,
@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,
@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco
@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,
@daydream-the-demon , @cosmiccoralz @aconstructofamind
@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,
@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina
@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,
@fckedupandbeautiful ,
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zhongrin · 14 hours
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zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.
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muzzled.
featuring... ❥ wriothesley
involves... ❥ afab!reader, fem!reader, muzzle, restraints, teasing (reader → wrio), feral!wrio, sweet & degrading petnames used, mentioned collar & leash at the end, not proofread
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wriothesley was starting to regret agreeing to this.
the thing is, you’d lit up like a christmas tree as soon as he nodded, and the way your hooded eyes coupled with your signature cheeky grin were intoxicating in itself. he couldn’t help but growl from behind the muzzle you’d fixed around his mouth - that wasn’t part of the agreement, but it seemed like you, like the impudent-yet-endearing individual that you were, had planned this from the start.
“you look so good like this, wrio~” you hum, now stepping closer to tap on the black metal, crooning as if you were talking to an adored pet, “and now you can’t use those teeth to bite me, pup.”
he growled. the cuffs - his handcuffs, the one he always carried around - jangled behind him as he tried to move his limbs out of habit. part of him burned when you treat him like this. it was both pleasant yet humiliating, arousing and infuriating, to be reduced to a tamed dog, chained to its place.
your boyfriend received an amused chuckle from you. wriothesley’s eyes sharpened, his thighs flexing when he felt your weight descend upon him, sitting across his lap as if you belonged there. which you did. and he would have welcomed you with kisses and his arms wrapping around your waist if he weren’t in such… predicament.
seriously, why did he agree to this, again?
the man watched intently as you slowly traced the hard planes of his muscles highlighted by the black bodysuit, the heat and tension of being unable to grab and hold you driving him mad by each second. all he could imagine was him flipping your position, holding your body against him, and—
“you drive me crazy whenever you wear something like this, you know?” his thoughts halted from your words, breath hitching as he felt your hand grope and kneaded against his pecs.
“truly, sweetheart? more than when i’m naked?” though his voice strained, he challenged, cocking an eyebrow up as his lips tugged into a boyish smirk.
you huffed and punished him with a hand coming down to rest against his inner thigh, so close and yet so far from his growing excitement, the bulge evident against the dark grey pants. “still cheeky? i’ll have to remind you that you’re currently under my mercy.”
“only because of these blasted restraints and goddamn muzzle, doll,” the gravel in his voice deepened the timbre of his voice, causing an involuntary shudder to run up your spine, “the moment i get out, you know who’ll be under whose mercy.”
“ohhh? then you better work hard~” you sang, leaning in unabashedly to lick and nibble on his neck. a rewarding groan from your boyfriend was all it took for you to start to earnestly mark his skin, red-purples blooming on the exposed part of his neck and shoulder. the fact that you couldn’t mark his favorite spot - the junction of his neck - was both a blessing and a curse to wriothesley. he had half a mind to beg you to rip his accursed bodysuit off somehow, though he knew it would be hard to do considering the situation.
his wrists strained against the metals, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth. you eyed his escape attempt in amusement, withdrawing from his neck only to place your lips near the base of his ear, “aww, poor puppy… bet you never thought your cuffs would be used against you, huh? or have you thought about it before? naughty, naughty…”
“shut up,” he shivered, wishing he could turn and shut you up with a deep kiss, but this stupid contraption—
a strangled groan of your name left his throat, his thighs twitching when your hand on his thigh moved to cup his bulge, fondling softly from behind the clothing, “fuck, shit-”
yet as soon as it started, it ended. wriothesley subjected you to a fiery frustrated glare by his icy cold eyes; you were truly going to be the death of him at this rate.
“you fucking brat.”
the nickname shot a rush of desire into your core. you knew you were succeeding in riling him up in that direction when the sweeter petnames were replaced with that kind of filth.
you wanted him feral, and it seemed like you were getting your wish if you could keep this up.
“who, me?” you giggled, knowing it would irate him further, “oh, but i’m just getting started, darling.”
you shifted to face him directly, completely straddling him on his chair. the lust-filled eyes of your lover were affixed on you, unable to tear away as your hands moved to unbutton the blouse you had; one button at a time, slowly exposing more and more skin. with every inch revealed, you watched as his adam’s apple bob, his eyes dilating, breathing visibly picking up when he realized you had opted out of wearing a bra today. shakily, momentarily, his gaze dropped lower to your skirt. what if.
“like what you see?” his vision shifted back to your face at your taunt. with all the buttons off, the cloth slipped down your shoulders until you maneuver it to drop onto the ground.
“you… naughty, evil, teasing-” his words died on his tongue when your hands - oh how pretty they would look cupping around his cock - moved themselves up your ribs to cup your breasts. your dainty fingers fail to appreciate them fully, in his opinion; unable to hold the soft plumpness properly, too small to knead properly. it should have been his hands, massaging and making you moan and writhe. should have been his calloused fingers that flicked your pert nipples, making you whine needily and tremble like that.
“unlock the cuff,” he gruffly ordered, chains clinking loudly as he tried to pull and tug against them, “right now.”
you tilted your head, pausing to bat your eyelashes innocently at him. you had no idea how much he wanted to see those pretty lashes wet with tears as he bit and mark and fondle your skin all over right now. oblivious to the picture he had on his head, where he held you down and pinned you on the bed as he ravaged you senseless.
instead of giving him salvation, you gave him sin. more of sinful provocation; your moans loud, one of your hand slowly trailing down your abdomen to slip beneath your skirt. the fact that he could picture your finger gathering slick from your slit, delving into your folds to then rub your swollen clit with your abundance of slick — yet being unable to witness the sight obscured by the stupid piece of clothing, was maddening. a crime, even.
did you have to slip your hand beneath your panties? or did you also decide to forego them just like you did with your bra? and did you have to moan so prettily while looking directly at him like that?
“damn it- you unfair little-!”
his cock was straining so hard against his pants, it hurt. you hummed, both amused and aroused at the words falling from his lips and the loud creak and clang of metal chains and wooden chair scraping against the floor. you knew he wanted to touch and taste you, you knew he was going to devour you if you kept this on. you knew you probably should stop teasing him so cruelly like this.
you waited for a particular word to slip out of his lips — the word that would stop your little game altogether.
but only curses and snarls left your lover’s lips, and you relished in the pure, unfiltered want on his expression. your fingers delved into your sopping cunt, a breathy moan and a shudder racking through your body as you pleasured yourself on top of his lap, slick dripping to stain his pants.
wriothesley’s breaths were ragged and loud, his jaw locked and clenched, eyes shifting between your expression, the hand fondling your breast and perked nipple, the way your other hand moved beneath the skirt— it was all too much, too much—
you gave him a knowing, sultry smile, and he could swear he entered some kind of hypnotic daze as you pulled your hand away from under the flimsy skirt, your dainty digits covered in wetness. his mouth opened automatically, tongue out as he tried to inch forward, chasing the honeyed treat.
the metal muzzle tapped against your fingers, just as your kind smile turned mischievous.
wriothesley
snaps.
you didn’t realize the chains broke until your vision shifts, your center of gravity thrown off balance. your back slammed against the hard surface of his desk, your breath stolen out of your lungs as you lost your bearings, confusion flooding your mind. you’d barely realized what had happened when you felt your skirt ripped away, your legs pushed apart and your knees kissing your ears before your beloved’s cock plunged into the wet, sopping heat. eyes rolling to the back of your head, your back arched as he started rutting, sparks of pleasure blooming rapidly in your senses.
wriothesley couldn’t even spare a moment to talk as his hips moved so deliciously, the hardened cock dragging against your spongy walls with vengeance. this was what you’d reduced him to: a mindless, ruthless beast only caring to take and take and take, after finally having the prey you bared and dangled in front of him. preys shouldn’t have taunted their predators, but you went ahead and did it anyway.
“w-wrio- oh- f-fuck-”
a deep snarl, and the hands you tried to reach out to touch him slammed back down on the desk. you inhaled shakily and almost moaned outloud just from the sight of him on top of you, still muzzled, silver blue eyes glaring down at you. untamed and feral, the merciless slam of his hips continued, blunt head reaching into the deepest part of your pussy as it convulsed around him. the sounds of your coupling filled the room, and your mind melted from the onslaught of pleasure, senses succumbing to the carnal lust you’ve inflicted upon your lover.
amidst the feral snarls and mind-numbing oxytocin, you barely heard his voice, panting and rough with unbridled need, “gonna cum,” the grip on your hands moved onto your hips, keeping you in place as the brutish thrusts started to turn uncoordinated, “gonna breed this perverted pussy. it’s what you wanted, isn’t it? you wanted to be fucked stupid like this? huh?”
broken moans left your throat, head spinning as the arrhythmical slaps of his hips against yours brought you teetering towards the precipice of euphoria. it took all you could to nod in agreement, and wriothesley’s smirk widen, a pleased growl reverberating within his throat as he felt his cock throb, ropes of sticky cum flooding into your deepest part. the warmth flooding into you triggered your own climax, spongy walls clamping down to milk him within the tight channel.
you exhaled shakily, quivering as the intense orgasm left you sensitive all over, body tingling as it relaxed, limp against the hard surface of his work desk. wriothesley panted on top of you, his breathing heavy and almost strained as his smouldering eyes saw your boneless body under him.
he bent down, and you would have thought he was about to kiss you if not for the contraption obscuring his mouth—
“you didn’t think that was enough for that stunt you pulled on me, did you, brat?”
your breath hitched as he ripped away the metal muzzle off his mouth, flexing his jaw and massaging the red imprint it made onto his skin. he dangled the item above you, eyes hooded and dark and mean.
“this time, why don’t i let you wear this? i already have a collar and a leash prepared for you to match, after all.”
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❥ banner picture © nqrse ー hoyofair 2024
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schoenpepper · 2 days
Text
Despite Everything (It's Still You)
Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.
Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang
A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.
Masterlist
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Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.
He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.
But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?
Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.
He doesn’t understand you anymore.
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Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.
Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.
The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?
Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?
You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.
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Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.
It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!
He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.
Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.
He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.
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Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.
You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?
He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.
Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?
In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.
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Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.
You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.
He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.
Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.
You are no mirror image of him. You are better.
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Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!
It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.
He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.
Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.
So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.
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Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.
You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?
The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.
Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.
You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.
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