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xetlynn · 6 months ago

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arcane imagines- viktor/jayce

caught in the mix

[arcane] [main page]

🔞⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️🔞: SMUTTTTTT SMUT

Prompt: Viktor and you think you have an hour until Jayce shows to work on a project… turns out you were wrong.

Contains: oral m!and f! Receiving, double penetrating, riding, overstimulation, crack smut, Idk.

“He said he’ll be here in an hour, he’s caught up with something.” Viktor speaks up from your shared bedroom as you’re taking a bite of an apple, walking in from the kitchen. “An hour, you say.” You wiggle your eyebrows causing him to scoff out a laugh.

“Such a perv.” He tosses his phone on the bed, standing up to stretch out his torso. “Only for you.” You swallow the food in your mouth. “I’m going to take a shower… if you want to join me.” He winks your way as he walks past you to the bathroom. You take one last bite of the fruit before throwing it in the trash. Eagerly following after your boyfriend.

You sit on the counter beside the sink as you watch Viktor start the water then begin to undress. Your mouth salivating at the sight you could never grow tired of. “Love, you’re drooling.” He motions to your face and you scrunch your nose with a smile. “I can’t help it, you make me feel such lewd things.” You defend yourself, leaning back against the mirror. “I guess I can’t be too hard on you. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t do the same to me.” His naked form makes its way over to you and you spread your legs so he can stand between them.

“Really?” You place your arms over his shoulders. “Mhm, let’s get in the shower and I can show you the things I think of.” He pats the outside of your thigh and you squeal excitedly. He reopens the class see-through door, stepping inside. You hurriedly take your clothes off, almost tripping over your own pants.

He laughs as you are rushing to join him, slamming the door behind you once you’re inside. “You’re so impatient, dove.” He sighs and you shrug your shoulders, pulling him into a kiss as water beats down on the both of you.

What the two of you failed to realize was that the message Jayce sent was a mistake, he reinstated that he was wrong and he was actually on his way now. A five minute drive away.

The two of you carelessly making out, hands roaming over one another as if this isn’t the umpteenth time doing this with one another. Your hand palming his painfully hard member, he whimpers into your mouth. His fingers dance down to your core, dipping in and out of you teasingly.

“I know-” you pull back from him, letting out a small pant. “I know you said you wanted to show me, but I need to suck your dick.” You inform him boldly, slightly catching him off guard. “Need to?” He looks down at you. “Mhm, an urge, an urge I can’t subdue any longer.” You dramatically say, crouching down before planting down on your knees.

“By all means, take it like it’s yours, hun.” He feels the water dripping down from his hair, staring down at his partner stroking his length. You eye it, admiring what’s yours. “I plan to.” You hum, your tongue flattening around the red, precum dripping tip before slowly inching it into your mouth.

Viktor lets out a low groan, grabbing a fistful of your hair as your head begins to bob. He leans on his left leg as you swallow his cock down your throat. Your nose touching his pelvis. “F-uck, love.” He stammers.

You moan from hearing his voice, a hand going up to fondle his balls. Knowing it was something he enjoyed. He gasps, letting out a whine. Your eyes gaze up at him, having to blink repeatedly from the drizzle of the shower hitting off of him and onto you.

“So pre-pretty like this.” He caresses your face as you slurp and guzzle around his dick. Sounding so messy for him.

He was loud, something you enjoyed. Something you’ve repeatedly told him to be. Vocal and a whiny mess just for you. To encourage you and let you know you’re making him feel good.

Only this time it’s heavily against the both of you as your mutual best friend walks into your apartment, unlocking it with the key you had given him a few months back. Your bathroom door wide open and allows Jayce to hear every single noise the two of you are making.

He didn’t notice it at first, placing his stuff down on the kitchen counter, taking one of your apples from the fruit bowl. As he takes the first bite the noises finally hit his ears. Viktor moaning out your name. “Fucking hell, [Name]. Tongue is ‘s good~” He huffs. Jayce’s eyes widened in shock.

He drops the apple, going to pick his stuff back up and leave the apartment so he doesn’t have to hear this. Unfortunately he trips over said apple. Dropping his very heavy briefcase that held all the information for your three’s work assignment. “Shit!” He mutters, picking it up.

He was too late to leave before you were covered in your towel running out with a baseball bat, water dripping on the ground. You go to swing, “Who the hell!?” You automatically drop your stance when seeing your best friend. “Oh, hey Jayce.” You laugh, leaning the bat down. Going over and giving him a hug. Still soaked from the shower.

“Thought you said you were caught up in something?’ You ask so nonchalantly as if you weren’t just giving the best head ever to your boyfriend in the other room. His face was beat red, even through his dark tan you could tell he was extremely flustered. He can’t even stutter out an answer. “You okay?” You cross your arms.

“Love, you’re still in your towel.” Viktor comes out of the bathroom wearing only boxers and sweatpants. Using his cane to walk into the scene. You purse out your lips, looking down at yourself then back to Jayce.

“Never seen a naked woman or something?” You raise a brow and he squeezes his eyes shut, begging that this was a dream or some made up thing in his mind. “Don’t tease him.” Viktor chuckles, looking his best friend up and down. “He heard us.” He simply says, picking up the apple from the ground, throwing it into the trash. “I-I was trying to leave! I didn’t know that’s what-” Jayce panics, trying to explain himself.

“Eh, we had the door open. Wasn’t your fault.” Viktor shrugs his shoulders acting as if Jayce hearing the two of you wasn’t something incredibly inappropriate. “Even with the door open Vik here would still be sounding through the room.” You tease, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him.

“Guys, please.” Jayce meeps out with an embarrassed look. You smirk over to him. “What? Us having sex turns you on or something?” You inquire, stepping over to him, your wet feet papping against the hardwood floors. “[Name]!” He steps back, shocked by what you just said.

“You aren’t denying~” You sing, poking his chest right as you look down and then flicker back up to his face. Doing it a few more times with a smug expression adorning your face. “Your cock’s sure saying so.” You laugh, he covers himself with his briefcase.

“[Name], leave him be.” Viktor attempts to hide his amused smile, crossing his arms over his naked chest. You pout. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Jayce! Let me go get dressed.” You excuse yourself from the room. Jayce lets out a sigh of relief once you’re gone. You were too bold and confident for your own good.

“Sorry, you know how she is.” Viktor rubs the back of his neck, Jayce only nods his head. Still covering himself. “You okay, over there?” Viktor asks in a worried tone. “Yeah, oh yeah I’m fine. Just seemed like I was about to be pounced on.” He awkwardly laughs. “Mm, she probably would’ve.” Viktor lets out a small breath. Sitting down at the counter stool.

Jayce furrows his brows, confused. “She would’ve? Are you two on some weird break?” He questions the guy in front of him. “Hah! No, we’ve been talking about… threesomes. If you’re up for it I’m sure it’d happen in a split second.” Viktor explains, Jayce chokes on his own spit. His best friend was just so casual… about him joining a threesome.

“This is an awkward topic, Jayce. I’m sorry to bring it up so… broadly.” The accented man apologizes. “No, no, it’s okay. I guess I asked.” Jayce shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m back!” You sprint over to the boys wearing a simple sweater and shorts. Loungewear for a boring thing you’re about to do. “Ready to get started on this stupid assignment?” You not-so-enthusiastically say, plopping down on the stool beside Viktor. “Sure.” Viktor hums, “let’s get to it!” Jayce accidentally says a little bit too loudly. Causing the two of you to wince. “Sorry, just excited about this project.” He murmurs, opening the case to all the informational papers.

He passes out the packets he had printed for the both of you. You boredly skim through it. Viktor thoroughly read it. As Jayce wasn’t even looking down at it, his eyes burning into the both of you.

Repeating what Viktor had said to him just moments before. A threesome? With the both of you? His coworkers he’d grown so close to? His best friends?

It’s not to say he hadn’t thought about something like that before. Because trust, he most certainly has.

He bit his bottom lip, and you glance up. Right as you do he changes his posture. “Reading” the packet at a different angle. You knit your eyebrows together, giving him a look before going back to your own packet. Leaning your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder as you do so.

“This is soo boring!” You dramatically slam the packet down on the counter. Startling the two boys in the room. “I want to get to the fun stuff.” You groan, leaning over your lover’s body, your hand palming his face. Shaking it around. He just boredly lets you do so.

“Fun stuff?” Jayce asks. “Yeah, the experimental part of the project.” You wink, laughing as his ears grow red. “You’re so fun to mess with!” You shrill, sitting back up on your own seat. “You’re oddly jumpy today too, us having sex really bother you that much?” You cock your head to the side, curious. “N-no, not at all. It’s a human thing!” He shakes his head vigorously.

“Then why are you acting like we scare you?” You frown, “I’ll knock off the teasing. I promise I didn’t mean to be too much!” You assure him, giving an apologetic smile. “Ugh, no [Name], you’re not too much. I just- I don’t know!” He exclaims, punctuating a little more with gesticulation.

“We can take a second from the project if you need to collect yourself.” Viktor offers, worried that he had caused a short-circuit to go off in his best friend’s brain by what he told him earlier. “No, no! I’m fine! I promise.” Jayce swears. “Then what’s up, J?” Your eyes were filled with concern.

“I want to have the threesome.” He spits out now the two of you were left thunderstruck at his words. Your jaw slacks open, slowly turning into a smirk. “For real?” You rasp out, looking back at Viktor who was still a little bewildered. “Yeah- I mean, if it’s still okay? I don’t know. You guys put me in the spot before.” His voice trails off. “But now after the ten minutes of thinking time you’re sure you want to have sex with us?” Viktor queries, teasing him.

“I mean it’s sex! What really is there to think about?” Jayce juts out his bottom lip for the judgement he just received. “A lot.” Both you and Viktor say in unison. “Our friendship is something to take into account. A threesome isn’t a permanent thing. This is temporary and to still manage a friendship afterwards could be difficult if all three parties aren’t positive that this won’t mess anything up.” Viktor explains, you nod your head in agreement to his words.

“We’ve talked about this, the two of us know how we feel. How do you feel, Jayce?” You question him.

“To be honest, I’ve thought about hooking up with you guys before. A drunken thought. Then a sober one. It passes, I’m not going to lie. And honestly I’m perfectly fine with it. Just a hookup. I don’t want a relationship and to be quite frank I couldn’t be in a polygamous thing.” He admits bluntly, the anxiety of it all releases from all three of your shoulders after his assurement.

“That’s good to hear!” You snicker. “We’re all three on the same page then?” You point to the two at the same time. The both of them nod their heads. “Okay, gonna fuck me right here in this kitchen or are we gonna go to the bedroom? Spice it up and all three fit in the shower?” You joke and Viktor rolls his eyes. “I didn’t really get to shampoo my hair so if you pick the shower I will not complain.” You put your hands up.

“[Name].” Viktor starts. “Sorry.” You chuckle. “Living room it is!” You stand up, heading to the comfortable space, Viktor watches you flop down on the couch, getting comfortable. “Is she always this… vulgar before you have sex?” Jayce asks, Viktor gets up as well, pressing his lips together. “Yeah, pretty much.” He nods.

“I didn’t put on panties so do what you will with that information.” You smirk, trying to do a sexy pose as you laid on the sofa. Viktor snorts as Jayce covers his mouth. “You’re such an idiot.” Viktor sits down beside you. “Mm, you love me for it.” You peck his jaw, getting up to your knees.

“Come sit, Jayce.” You pat the spot beside you. “Wanna kiss you.” You confess, he fidgets with his hands but does as you say. You gently grab onto his collar. “You’re okay with this right?” You triple check with the guy who seems like he’s going to explode from nervousness. “Yes.” He nods, letting out a shaky breath as you lean in. “Good.”

Your lips land on his, you press onto him and his hand falls to your hip. Indicating that you can touch him more. In your head at least that’s what it indicates.

Viktor observes from the sidelines, licking his lips. Your hand goes behind you and you grab onto your boyfriend. Wanting him to join. He meekly got on his left knee, his right was off of the couch. Disengaged the kiss you boop Jayce’s nose, leaning back into your boyfriend’s chest. “He’s a good kisser. Your turn!” You look at him, almost hanging your head upside down. Viktor’s eyes meet with Jayce.

“You okay with that?” More consent questions. Jayce was beginning to feel annoyed by it. He wanted whatever you guys were willing to do. Why couldn’t you guys get that!? “Yes.” He aggressively answers. “Woah, little eager there.” You joke with a loud laugh. “Sorry, just please. I want whatever we’re going to do.” He promises.

“Okay boy kisser, get to it.” You pull him into a chaste kiss yourself before allowing the two to do it as well. Sandwiched in between the two, their heads leaning in and now you get to watch. They meet over your shoulder and you get the gift to grope the both of them as they sloppily make out with one another. Sneaking your hand under Jayce’s shirt, feeling his unflexed muscles. Your cold skin against his makes him groan into your boyfriend’s muzzle. Viktor uses this to prod his tongue in between the boy’s lips. Your arousal was growing with each noise they mustered out. Voices turned you on, what can you say?

Well, boys whimpering did. You loved a man in distress.

“Alright, alright, I’m getting jealous.” You pull them apart. “I want you both butt booty naked and kneeling before me.” You take off your shirt, Jayce gives you a look and you give one back. “I said what I said.” You roll your eyes as he goes straight to your bare chest. “Just kidding, I do want you to undress though.” You press your pointer fingers together, pretending to act shy. “Ew, that cringed me out.” You wave your hands out in disgust with yourself.

The two laugh at you, Jayce doing as told though, throwing his shirt off with ease. Having to stand up to unbuckle his pants. You turn to Viktor who was slipping his sweatpants off but leaving his boxers.

“Awe, the one’s I gifted you for your birthday!” You coo, your face was littered over the boxers, a little comment bubble pointed toward the crotch that said: “I fuck this dick every noight!”

“Only ones cleaned.” He mumbles. Partially lying. They were the first ones he spotted when he thought the house was under attack. Not wanting to confront the robber wearing only a towel like you. “Sure.” You kiss him roughly. You get up from your spot and peel your shorts off, not wearing panties like you said. “Man, two dicks. All to myself.” Your tongue drags over your teeth. Jayce does what Viktor did, leaving only his boxers on.

“Sit down, I need to plan what I’m going to do.” You faintly push the bigger man beside your boyfriend. You stand over them, naked, leaving nothing to the imagination. Jayce’s cock was throbbing against the tight fabric. Chambering him.

Viktor was just as hard, needing to feel some sort of friction before he goes crazy.

You then suddenly climb onto Jayce’s lap, kissing him before he can even process what’s happening. His hands on either side of him. You press your heated core against his member, grinding against him like a bitch in heat. Viktor helps out, directing his hands to your ass. “Squeeze it, she likes it.” He encourages, Jayce listens and you moan, pressing down harder on his cock.

Earning a groan from him as well. Your tongues battle for domination. Surprisingly you lose, Jayce exploring the inside of your mouth as you were humping onto him. Viktor had pulled his boxers down, his dick springing out and slapping against his lower stomach. Dribbling spit onto his tip to use it as lube.

Jayce’s eye peeks open, seeing it happen. His dick twitches against you. Closing the eye once again, smacking your ass and drawing you closer. You let out a small yelp, not expecting it from him. Jayce was going to retreat to apologize but you don’t let him. Almost to motivate him to do it again.

Your wetness soaks the clothing over his girthy genitals.

As you pull back, a string of saliva holds onto both of your lips and you grin at the nasty sight. You then look at your boyfriend. “You feel left out?” You pout, pulling him into a kiss. “Mhm…” He pumps his dick into his fist and you relish the vulnerable look he wears. “Sorry baby.” You muster against his lips.

“Want to eat me out while I suck his pretty cock, hm?” You ask, still planted onto Jayce’s muscle, meaty lap. “Of course.” He nods his head for you, his eyes dark with lust. He was a munch for you. He loved making you cum over and over again all over his face.

Now there you were, back arched, choking on Jayce’s girth master of a dick. Viktor behind you, slurping up all your juices that your pussy gifts upon him. Eating you out like a starved man. His swollen thumb teasing your muscled ring right above or normally below your pussy.

Your hands gripped onto Jayce’s thighs as your head bobbed up and down on him. Attempting to take him all the way down each time. Jayce watched both of you, how you were so focused on his pleasure and Viktor seemed like he was doing it out of his own. Hearing Viktor whine and mewling into your sopping cunt.

Your nails pressing into Jayce every now and then when you begin to gag on his length. “You’re ‘s good at this, ‘s good!” Jayce praises you, his hand going to your hair, moving it out of the way for you. Your eyes meet with his. You smile, now your attention grasping at his angry leaking tip. Hollowing out your cheeks as you suck it. His mouth gapes, his hips rutting up to where you have to shove him back down. “F-fuck!” He cries out, you were insanely good at this. Your tongue swirled and swiped at the mushroom top. One of your hands now squeezes his base, twisting and turning up and down.

“H-holy shit! ‘M gonna… slow down!” He yowls, it was intense. Out of nowhere.

Viktor breathes on your pussy as he stops to watch what technique you were doing to your shared friend. He hums at it. Good one. He goes back to your core, ambushing your clit.

His lips latched and locked with your folds and your legs were starting to shake. Even he had to hump himself into the edge of the couch. Hearing everything going on in the room. He had to relieve himself somehow.

You push your ass back on your boyfriend’s face. His nose is deliberately in your hole as his tongue works on your nub. Your free hand spreads your ass cheek allowing a different feeling to erupt in your stomach.

Your mouth paused for a quick second before continuing. “Gonna cum, pretty.” He grunts, struggling to keep his pelvis in place knowing he was just going to get knocked back down on the cushion. You let out a small noise, encouraging him to let go. His breathing was ragged and out of order. His chest heaving up and down.

Ropes of the velvety white liquid shooting in your mouth, you fully sheath the cock inside, hitting the back of your throat so you’d have no choice but swallow what was given to you. He felt his tip being gulped down as well with the motion of your throat. He puffed out, his muscles getting to relax now.

“Goood boy…” You grin up at him, letting his soft flaccid dick fall against his skin. His head laid on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes. It wasn’t for long though as he lifts himself back up to watch Viktor going to town on your pussy. His hands holding onto your thighs. Your face hiding into the cushion as you let out little, “hah’s” and “fuck’s” sneaking his name in there as well.

Jayce’s dick was already starting to grow hard once again.

“Vik ‘most there, pleeeaasee.” You sob, clawing at the fabric underneath you. Viktor’s tongue repeatedly licking at your clit, his bottom lip hitting it as well each time he closed his mouth before re-opening, keeping this motion. His nose also causes gratification for you. Your muscles tremble, stomach tightening and recoiling as your first orgasm of the day hits you. “A-amazing, f-fuuuck! ‘Love you ‘s much, vikkie.” You hiccup, toes curling and your thighs accidentally squeezing close as your pussy squirts, sputtering out juices all into Viktor’s mouth. Swallowing it all gone. Even licking you clean afterwards.

He finally shrinks back, sitting on his left calf with half-lidded eyes and messed up hair. His mouth coaxed with you all over. You lay there for a moment, taking a breather. You gather your energy, sitting up on your knees. “That was- so hot!” You clap your hands happily. Jayce nods his head in agreement. “Your mouth is really intense, [Name].” He holds his dick in his hand like it was a gentle being.

You snicker, giving yourself a pat on the back at the compliment. “Thank you, I practice everyday.” You then wink over to your boyfriend whose face flushes. “Now, I need to give my baby some attention.” You crawl over to said boyfriend. Pushing him to lay fully on the couch. “Gonna fuck you, soooo good.” You tell him as you straddle his hips.

You grab hold of his leaky cock, it was covered in precum making your hand all sticky. You lowered yourself onto him, your wall fluttering over his inches. “Sooo good!” Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You could never grow tired of his dick. So perfect for your cunt.

Your hands go to the top of his chest as you fuck yourself on him. Bouncing up and down, one foot planted on the ground as the other is on the couch. Your knee bent near your chest. You had a shorter sofa so it worked beautifully. Your boobs jiggle in front of his face, his lips perfectly latching onto one.

You hover over his face, watching him suck on your nipple like milk was actually able to come out. You grinned down at him only to ruin his fun by sitting back up, bringing your leg back up on the couch, both knees bent and you held onto them as you widen your stance. Rolling your hips back and forth.

For a moment you truly forgot Jayce was behind you, watching you fuck yourself on your boyfriend like a slut. “Hah- you’ll get your ch-chance soon, promise~” You look back at him after hearing him grumble something under his breath.

You keep your position for as long as you possibly could but the straining in your thigh muscles were starting to bother you. You fall to your knees, well adjust yourself. Still keeping Viktor’s dick deep inside you. He pushes himself into a sitting position, you pant against his chest. Holding onto him. “Sorry, one second.” You tell him, perking your ass out a little bit, trying to make yourself more comfortable.

Jayce was getting impatient now. Having to be a bystander to all the fun the two of you were doing. Without warning he spreads your ass cheeks, you snap back at him. “Huh?” Your eyes were wide. “I need to fuck you.” He admits, no shame though. His dick spurting out precum. Twitching at you as you stared down at it.

“Okay.” You say, lifting yourself off of Viktor who starts to whine but you shush him. “I have an idea.” You whisper, turning around, sinking back down on your boyfriend's length. You sit down on Viktor, leaning fully back against his chest. “Are you comfortable like this?” You quietly ask him to which he nods, grabbing at your thighs as he understands what you’re doing.

Your ankles now in the air, and one of your hands traveled down to your pussy, spreading your lips, showcasing everything. “C’mon then.” You smack your own cunt, your fingers brushing against Viktor’s base. He flinches at the touch. Jayce ogles at your already full hole. Wondering how this was going to work. How he was going to fit with Viktor. Instead of taking too long he presses his tip at the top of your hole right on top of his buddy’s dick steadily, painfully slowly pushing himself in. You grit your teeth together, feeling the stretch.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” You mutter, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s wrists that held your legs up. “Are you okay?” He stops himself mid-way. “Keep going.” You bleat.

As he’s fully inside you make both of them stay very still. “So full! Holy shit!” You squeal, gawking down at your magical pussy that encased two rather plump cocks. “I’m going to cum if you move at all.” You stare up at Jayce with worried eyes. “Are you sure this is okay?” It was his turn to ask for consent and you nod your head. “I’ll be fine, I just need to adapt.” You huff, leaning your head back for a moment.

“Okay-” And right at the word Jayce was pumping himself in and out of you. It wasn’t what you were going to say but at this point you weren’t going to stop him as you shrill out, clinging onto Viktor. Viktor’s face hides in your shoulder at the feeling of Jayce’s cock rubbing against his own. “Fuck, so tight.” Jayce grumbles, pistoning in and out of you.

You let out nonsense babbles, wanting to cry at the sheer pleasure you feel. It was nothing like you’ve ever felt. “Doin so so so good, love.” Viktor tells you, kissing your sweaty skin. Looking over you to watch Jayce’s thrusts.

Jayce’s mouth wide open as he’s relentless fucking you.

“How does it feel?” Viktor asks and you shake your head. “I- d-d- Fuck!” You tremble, not able to speak. Your pussy squirts juices onto their dicks, making a mess all over them.

Jayce only keeps focus on his dick rummaging into you like a meekly little fuck doll. Viktor’s veins add extra fulfillment for him. His brain was mush as all he focused on was getting the three of you to cum.

“Need you to cum, both of you!” He grunts, pulling you into a kiss before retreating and doing the same to Viktor. Both sloppy and careless. “Almost there!” Viktor whines in response. “Mhm~ m-me… shhhii-” You babbled, not making any sense but they both understood. Jayce’s thumb goes to your clit, the palm of his hand holding onto your lower stomach. Rubbing your nub vigorously, instantly sending you over. Your cunt gushes, outflowing clear fluid drastically. Your pussy pulsating and screaming at the pleasure it’s receiving. You sob, tears streaming down your face as Jayce is still unyielding away from you.

Sending shock waves through you as your legs shudder and tremble. Viktor crashes next, his thick semen entering you in such a deep manner as it was tucked right against your walls. His tip pushing onto your gummy mushy spot.

Jayce didn’t stop, his hips ferocious and neverending as he raced to his own high. Overstimulating the both of you.

His thrusts were finally growing sloppy and slow, his pants were hefty and loud. Full of whines and low grunts all the same time. Finishing inside you, all three of your cum mixing with one another. He easily slips out, your pussy cries at the sudden emptiness, now only having Viktor.

All your fluids trickled over his cock, pooling onto his pelvis. Jayce was mesmerized.

The two of you were completely fucked out. Holding onto one another. You lay your legs down slowly but stayed on Viktor. “Jayce… you’re one hell of a- fuck.” You heave out, clutching your chest. “Sorry, I kinda got ahead of myself.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Kinda?” Viktor deadpans.

“I’m sorry!” He pouts.

“It’s fine, it was so worth it.” You give a lopsided grin, tiredly staring up at the ceiling.

Jayce helps you off of Viktor, all the juices flowing down your thighs leaving you to feel utterly dirty. “Let’s get you two cleaned up.” He announces, heading to your guy's shower and starting it. You glance back to your boyfriend who was covering his eyes with his forearm. “I can’t walk.” You tell him, your legs shaking as you stand there. He snorts at you, sitting up. Letting your guys’ cum spill onto the couch. It was a good thing you had covers on it.

You were definitely going to have to deep clean it. Maybe get new covers.

Jayce comes back, watching the both of you wobble like newborn giraffes. “Maybe I did go a little too hard.” He frowns, picking you up bridal style. “Stay here Vik, I’ll be back.” He promises your boyfriend who was too exhausted to not listen.

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catboyieejeno · 1 year ago

Text

seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚

⋆ hhu ver.

oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you

cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol

⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.

when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.

after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.

⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."

it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.

if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.

⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.

it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo

⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.

the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.

eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.

always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.

⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous

not only is he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).

gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.

⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you

you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu

⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you

he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”

his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.

⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you

loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.

treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).

⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you

loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.

there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.

if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon

⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you

there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.

loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.

⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you

needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.

it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.

⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you

a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.

enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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loverindeepspace · 3 months ago

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You have me // Xavier x Reader

I'm back! Xavier doesn't have enough fluffy fics so I'm here to serve you some fluff. Concept: (Pre-relationship) Tara sets you up on a blind date, Xavier gives you a reason not to go. Tags: Fluff, Sprinkle of angst, getting together, first kiss, possibly slight OOC Word Count: 1985 Masterlist

“You have to get out there! All I see you do lately is work, work and work!” Tara’s voice was on the verge of exasperation as she nagged on, “Ever heard of the work-life balance?”

“I do other things besides work! I do plenty!” You argue back halfheartedly, knowing full well that it wasn’t true. You’ve been swamped at work, wanderers seemingly more active than ever and the reports won’t finish themselves, missions after missions seem to come your way every day.

“Oh yeah? Like what? When was the last time you went out? Last time you went and did something fun? Met new people?” She may be right but you weren’t about to back down so easily.

“I hang out with you and Xavier all the time.”

“We’re your colleagues, we don’t count… Well actually, on that note… How is it going with lover boy?”

“Taraaaaa, please stop. Nothing is going on between us okay? We are simply mission partners and neighbours.” The grin on Tara’s face makes you want to shove her away, heat rising up your neck and flooding your cheeks.

“Sureee sure, and you totally don’t make heart eyes at him every time he walks into the room?” And so you do shove her slightly, turning to walk away before more teasing comes your way, but she catches up to you quickly.

“Welllll, since you insist that you two totally don’t have feelings for each other, and you need a break from work… How would you feel about going on a sort-of blind date with a friend of mine? It’s Andy, if you remember him from the last group game night?” She trails off slightly, a mischievous glint still in her eyes.

“A date? Tara, sorry but no. I don’t have time for dating, between missions and the reports I have to write, I barely have time to eat.”

“You say that, but you still make an effort to hang out with Xavier after work…”

“That’s different, we live in the same building, it’s not like it’s out of the way…Besides, I haven’t even hung out with him in ages…”

“Come onnnn, it’s just one date, and it’s not like you have to get into a relationship with him if it doesn’t go well. Andy is a great guy, trust me! And god forbid, you might make another friend.”

She gives you her best puppy dog eyes.

Goddammit.

A sigh leaves your lips as you smile at her in defeat, “Fine. Fineeee. One date. No harm in that right?”

With your words, Tara squeals in excitement, “Yes!! I’ll set you two up, don’t worry about a thing! I’ll send you the details later!!”

You quickly say your goodbyes to Tara and start walking out of the building, ready to head home and get some sleep. It has been a long few weeks and your lack of rest has started to catch up to you. It was already dark outside as you left, your mind drifting off deep into your thoughts. You did feel slightly guilty about the date, your heart already belonged to another after all.

Your relationship with Xavier was an odd one… You were neighbours, mission partners and close friends. You spent most of your time together, if not at your apartment, then at his. Movie nights, star gazing, take outs. And somewhere along the line, your feelings started to change, butterflies erupting in your stomach every time his hand grazed yours, heart fluttering when he got a bit too close, his deep blue eyes drawing you into a trance.

For some time, you thought it might’ve been mutual. His teasing, his slight blush, the way he seemed so at ease with you. But you must’ve been wrong. He pulled away from you much more as of late, going on missions alone, your hang outs become few and far between, he seemed more distant by the day. You missed him honestly, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you wanted to still be his friend, hang out like you used to. The apartment always felt empty without his soothing presence and soft voice.

Maybe he caught on to you and your feelings and decided to let you down easy by distancing himself?

Maybe this date isn’t such a bad idea, maybe it’s time to move forward and not dwell on these feelings…

“You shouldn’t zone out so deeply when walking home.” A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, your arm swinging out in alarm ready to jab whoever snuck up on you, but was stopped in its tracks with a soft grip. You turn quickly to have a look at the person behind you.

“Xavier! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He has the audacity to look amused as he lets go of your arm.

“I tried calling out your name but it seems you were so deep in thought you didn’t hear me,” raising his hands in surrender, he gives you an innocent look, a playful glint still shining in his eyes. A plastic bag hangs from one arm, filled with what looked like snacks.

You let out a long breath, adrenaline leaving you as you give him a joking glare, “You out for a snack run?”

You walked side by side back to the apartment building, conversation flowing naturally, almost like he had never distanced himself at all. It was nice, cozy even, in the familiarity and ease it brings you.

“Want to come up for a movie night? It’s… been a while since we hung out...” His voice trails off at the end, looking away almost… sheepishly? So he did notice. The avoidance was on purpose then.

But you didn’t let those thoughts take over, you meant it when you said you still wanted to be his friend, no matter how much it hurt. You smile quickly and agree.There was almost an awkwardness that sprouted in the air between the two of you as you stepped into his apartment. It was the same as the last time you were there a few weeks ago, if not slightly messier than usual.

“You set up some movies, I’ll order us some food… same as usual?” You say trying to lighten the atmosphere, as you sit on the couch, phone at the ready.

“Yeah… Sounds good.” He sits next to you, closer than he’d usually would, an observation that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your heart skipping a beat. Fumbling with your phone, you order quickly and put it down on the coffee table in front of you as Xavier scrolls through the movies available, eventually settling on one.

A… rom-com?

You glance at him, confusion written on your face. That is definitely not something Xavier would usually watch, it’d normally be a sci-fi movie or the odd thriller, but a rom-com? That’s new.

Noticing your questioning gaze, he cleared his throat, “I’ve heard some great reviews about this one. Thought… I’d see what the fuss was about.”

His eyes were fixed to the screen moments later.

His ears were red.

What’s happening?

Is- Is this-?

No. It can’t be. What did we say about giving yourself false hope?

But he’s sitting so close! And a romance movie? He’s blushing!

Stop. It’s nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

A chime of your phone broke the silence, the slight tension dissipating.

Tara: All set up!! You good with tomorrow at 7pm? Andy will meet you at the Thai restaurant by work! :D

Shit. You had forgotten about the date. You snatch your phone from the coffee table, hesitating in your reply, cheeks burning, Xavier’s laser focused gaze drifting between your phone and your face.

“You okay? Was that Tara?” So he had seen the screen.

“Yeah… funny story actually…” your voice is weak, “ she’s trying to set me up with her friend Andy. She… is organising a date for us…” You aren’t sure why you feel so embarrassed, it’s not like you are doing anything wrong, you and Xavier aren’t together in that way, so why do you feel like digging a hole and burying yourself in it? The redness in your cheeks deepens under the intense stare pointed your way.

“A… date?” He asks slowly, as if he’s processing the information, his face a blank canvas. You nod meekly, trying to gauge his reaction, but he gives nothing away.

“With Tara’s friend? Someone you know?”

“Well, we haven’t really spoken properly, but he was there last time the group went out for drinks…”

“So you’re going on a date with someone you don’t even know?” There was an edge to his voice now, his brow furrowed as stared at you.

“Tara said he’s a great guy, and that I needed to get out there… So what’s the harm, right?” You don’t know if you’re trying to reassure yourself or him at this point.

“If he’s so great, why didn’t he ask you out himself?”

“He doesn’t have my number?”

“Exactly. You don’t know him. You can’t know what his intentions are. This doesn’t sound safe.” He glances away, but still seems tense, jaw clenching slightly, the makings of a pout forming on his lips. You sigh slightly in response, the redness in your face starting to settle down.

“Tara’s right though, I need to get out there. All I do lately is work, missions and reports are taking over my life. I haven’t even seen you in weeks, so I gotta start somewhere right? Why not start there?” He stays silent for what seemed like hours, the movie still playing in the background but forgotten entirely. His brows remained furrowed, eyes unfocused, still turned away from you. The night crept on, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. You kept glancing at him but not once did he look at you.

“But why start with a date with someone you don’t even know?” Finally, he turned to you, his eyes observing you, searching for something.

“It’s not like I’ve got a line of suitors, might as well try to meet someone new right?”

He pursed his lips in thought.

“You have me.”

He said it so softly, you barely caught it.

What?

“...What?” You breathe out, eyes widening. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“You have me. I…” He takes a deep breath, reaching out for your hand that sits on your leg, “Don’t go on this date. I’ll take you out, if you give me this chance?” His eyes are searching your face, showing the nerves he’s working hard to hide.

Your breath catches in your throat, “Xavier… What exactly do you mean?” Your voice is soft with disbelief, wary to let yourself hope just yet. He gives you a small smile, lifting his hand to tuck some stray hair behind your ear, keeping it there.

“I mean, I want to take you out on a date. I mean that I like you, I have feelings for you. I know I’ve been distant, I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t afford to lose you. You… You are my everything.” He is all you see, his face, his blue eyes, the light dusting of freckles, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. This is happening right? He feels the same?

You take that chance, the chance that these feelings are reciprocated, and you lean in. You lean in, until your lips meet his. It’s a gentle touch at first. And then he starts kissing you back, leaning in further and deepening the kiss. You feel his breath leave him as he sighs into the kiss, his hand travelling to your cheek, cradling you carefully.

Eventually you pull away, air rushing back into your lungs.

“So, you’re not going on that date right?” He breathes out, a playful smirk playing on his lips. A laugh leaves you, as you pull him towards you again.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader #love and deepspace xavier x reader #love and deepspace xavier #xavier headcanons #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier angst #xavier x mc #xavier x you #jealous Xavier #my writing

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pinkpurplesunrises · 24 days ago

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We were never meant to break, but we did anyway (and still found our way back)

5000 words – the long story – Alexia Putellas x Reader – This may be heartbreaking but I promise you it'll be okay - Angst, Smut and Fluff - Mentions of grief and stillbirth. Please read with care.

I'm a little nervous to upload this. Had it on my computer for a while. Took a lot of patience and hours. Just needed to write a good ending and my brain was finally able to do so. Didn't have more words in me. This is it. I hope it's alright.

Alexia looked different under the soft gold of Barcelona’s morning light.

Like time had touched her gently, letting her age but not harden. You hadn’t seen her in nine months. Not since the night everything broke like thin glass between you.

She was the first to speak in the newly opened coffee shop, her voice quieter than you remembered. ‘’You cut your hair.’’

You almost smiled. Almost. ‘’You didn’t.’’

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable, just loaded. Like both of you waiting for the offer to reach back in time and pull something familiar out of the silence.

You breathed to the ache in your chest. ‘’I didn’t think I wanted to see you again.’’

Alexia flinched. Just barely, but you saw it. You always saw it.

She nodded, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment. ‘’That’s fair.’’

There wasn’t anger in her voice. Just acceptance. Like she’d already had this conversation a hundred times in her head and knew she didn’t get to rewrite the ending. Not this time.

You let out a soft laugh, dry and hollow. ‘’How convenient that we both moved to a new place and still ended up in the same damn coffee shop.’’

She looked up at you again, lips twitching like she wasn’t sure if she was able to smile at that. ‘’I guess Barcelona’s not as big as we thought.’’

You shrugged, crossing your arms. Not out of defiance, just to hold something in place. Just to ache the anxiety running through your veins. ‘’Or maybe the universe has a messed up sense of humor.’’

Alexia didn’t disagree. She never did when you were right, even when it stung.

You step up when the barista calls your name, the scrape of the cup against the counter louder than it should be in your ears.

Alexia doesn’t move. She just watches you. Like she’s scared any sudden motion will break whatever fragile thread’s holding this moment together.

You grab the cup. It’s warm. Steadying. You don’t look at her yet, not really. Just past her shoulder, toward the window and the way the light filters in like it doesn’t know how tired you are of mourning.

‘’I should go,’’ you say softly. Your voice doesn’t shake, but your fingers do.

Alexia swallows. ‘’Yeah. Of course.’’

But still, you don’t move.

Not right away.

You stand there, heart thudding, breath tight in your chest. You know she’s still looking at you, and that’s somehow worse than if she’d already turned away. It’s been nearly a year, and she still makes you feel like your ribs can’t quite contain everything that lives beneath them.

You force a breath and turn, eyes blurring just enough that you have to blink fast before you speak.

‘’It’s almost been a year,’’ you murmur. ‘’And I’m still sorry… that my body betrayed us like that.’’

You don’t wait for a response. You just walk out, because if you don’t, you’ll shatter. Again.

Behind you, Alexia doesn’t follow.

Not yet.

Alexia didn’t realize she was still holding her breath until the door shut behind you.

The clink of the bell above it barely registered. What stayed, what pressed like a stone beneath her sternum, was your voice. Quiet. Raw. That last line ringing through her like a wound that never properly healed.

‘’I’m still sorry that my body betrayed us like that.’’

She stood there, in the middle of the coffee shop, like some ghost of herself. And then she left. Left before she started crying in public again. Like last spring. Like the night she said something so cruel, so stupid, that she watched you close yourself off in real time.

By the time she reached her mother’s apartment, her fingers were shaking again. And she felt nauseous.

Not from the coffee. Not from the early morning chill or the sprint upstairs. From everything.

From the look on your face when you saw her. From the sound of your voice when you said you still were sorry. From the fact that after all these moments, you still thought it was your fault. And part of her had let you. It’s almost been a year. And I’m still sorry that my body betrayed us like that.

The sentence repeated in her head over and over again, each time bringing a fresh wave of sickness. She barely made it up the stairs before she had to brace herself against the wall outside her mother’s door, swallowing back bile and shame.

This had started happening more often since that night. Since the silence became the only thing between you.

She knocked with the back of her hand. Weakly.

The door opened almost instantly. Eli must’ve already known.

‘’Alexia,’’ her mother said softly, no questions, no scolding. Just recognition.

Alexia didn’t respond. Just shook her head once, lips pressed tight, and bolted toward the bathroom.

She didn’t make it all the way. She sank to her knees in the hallway, one arm braced against the wall, the other gripping her stomach like she could somehow hold it all in. But she couldn’t.

Eli was beside her in seconds, crouching down, pulling her hair back gently and resting a steading hand on her back.

It wasn’t violent. It wasn’t loud. But it was emptying. The kind of sickness that came from a place no medicine could fix.

After a while when her body had given up and she was just left there, hollow and trembling, Eli passed her a glass of water and a damp cloth for her face. She didn’t speak, didn’t rush. She just sat with her daughter in that quiet, aching space where love didn’t ask for explanations.

After a long pause, Alexia finally found her voice again. Raw and thick with guilt.

‘’She was at the new coffee shop,’’ she said quietly, eyes unfocused, staring at the ground. ‘’She was right there… and I couldn’t…’’ Her voice broke, and she pressed her palm against her eyes to stop the tears from coming. ‘’I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t make it right.’’

Eli didn’t respond immediately. She just helped Alexia sit up, one hand steadying her shoulder as she guided her to the couch. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like she knew how fragile Alexia was in this moment.

‘’Come on,’’ Eli whispered, her voice soothing. ‘’Let’s get you comfortable.’’

Eli adjusted the pillows behind Alexia, making sure she was settled just right, before moving across the room. The soft click of the lighter echoed in the quiet room as Eli lit the small candle. It’s warm glow casting shadows on the walls, and turned the flickering light toward the table. The light danced on the surface, drawing Alexia’s attention to the framed ultrasound photo resting beside it.

For a long moment, Alexia didn’t move. She just stared at the photo, eyes blurred with unshed tears. The silence in the room pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t shake off.

She’d tried so hard to bury that part of herself. The part that carried the weight of what they’d lost. She’d thrown herself into her games, into the chaos of her professional life, hoping it would silence the emptiness. But it didn’t.

Eli came back to her side, her presence steady and solid. She didn’t push Alexia to speak. She simply sat down beside her, the silence between them comfortable in a way that only years of shared grief could create.

Finally, Alexia broke the silence. Her voice low, barely a whisper. ‘’I can’t stop thinking about what I said. About how I let her walk away.’’ She let out a shaky breath, rubbing her hand over her face. ‘’And now… now I think she blames herself for everything. I didn’t fix it, mamá. I made it worse.’’

Eli’s arm found its way around Alexia’s shoulders, a steady comforting weight. ‘’You were both lost, Alexia. You were both hurting. You never got a chance to heal together.’’

Alexia leaning into her mother’s warmth. ‘’I just wanted to fix it so badly. But I pushed her away instead. And now…’’ She paused, her breath catching in her throat. ‘’I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me.’’

Eli kissed the top of her head gently. ‘’It’s not about forgiveness, querida. It’s about healing. And that can’t happen until you’re both ready.’’

Alexia picked up the ultrasound photo, her fingers tracing the edges softly as if it might slip away if she touched it too hard. She felt the ache of the past settling deep in her chest again. The photo was a reminder of what she lost. Not just a child, but everything that came with it: the plans, the future she’d imagined with you.

With a deep quiet breath, Alexia set the photo down again. The weight of the moment too much to hold for long. ‘’I just want her back,’’ she whispered, her voice cracking, her eyes welling with tears.

Eli didn’t try to stop the tears. She simply held her, quiet and steady, knowing that sometimes the only thing you could do was be there. The pain wouldn’t go away. It never really did, but being here with her mother in this safe space gave Alexia a fragile thread of hope.

Back across the city the quiet followed you home like a shadow.

Your apartment was small, modest, lived-in. The kind of place where the furniture didn’t match and the walls were soft with memories. You dropped your bag near the door and toed off your shoes. The silence pressing in as if it had something to say.

Baya greeted you at the threshold, slow and curious. Her tail curling against your ankle like she knew something in you had cracked open again. You bent down, pressing your face to her fur, eyes still hot from the tears you’d barely kept in back at the coffee shop.

‘’Hey, girl,’’ you whispered against her fur. ‘’I saw her.’’

“I actually saw her.”

Baya only blinked, but it felt like enough.

You stood again and drifted toward the kitchen counter, placing the now-cold coffee cup down like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your throat still burned from everything you hadn’t said. From the way her eyes followed you as you walked out.

You hadn’t planned to say that last thing. The truth that had clawed at your ribs for nearly a year. It’s almost been a year. And I’m still sorry that my body betrayed us like that. It came out too fast. Too sharp. But it was true.

Your hands trembled slightly as you opened a window, letting the cool air hit your face. It helped, a little. Just enough.

You moved to the bookshelf, not for a book, but for the small flat box tucked between them. You didn't open it. You just held it, pressing it to your chest. Inside was the same photo. The one they printed when you weren't sure if it was still real, before everything fell apart. You hadn't looked at it in months. Couldn't bring yourself to.

Baya brushed against your legs again, and you sank to the floor slowly. Curling into yourself on the rug. Your apartment smelled like lavender and old tea. It was small. Yours. But it still felt like something was missing.

You'd Baya for almost four years now.

She wasn't planned. You'd found her through a rescue center just outside the city, all winy limbs and wide eyes. Something in you had clicked the moment you saw her. You hadn't even asked Alexia before filling out the papers. Just texted her a photo and wrote, her name's Baya. She comes home tomorrow.

Alexia had replied with: You adopted a cat? Without asking? You hate sleeping with fur in the bed.

And then a minute later: She's kind of cute though. I call the name 'Tigre' if she claws me once.

She’d rolled her eyes for days. Claimed she didn’t want a cat. Didn’t like them. Said she was a dog person. But within a week, you’d walked in on her stretched out on the couch with Baya curled on her chest like she’d always belonged there.

“She was cold,” Alexia had muttered, stroking the tiny kitten’s ears like it wasn’t the fifth time that week.

And from that point on, Baya was as much hers as she was yours.

She’d scoop her up and carry her around the apartment like a baby. Let her sleep on clean training kits. Left her little dishes of chicken when she thought you weren’t looking. Once, after a hard away game, Alexia had laid face-down on the bed for two hours. Baya curled up in the small of her back like she knew how to anchor her.

That was just… who Alexia was. Even when she was tired. Even when she said she didn’t care.

She always did.

You pulled your knees in tighter, resting your cheek against them, the ache behind your eyes dull and steady. So many pieces of your life still had her fingerprints on them. Even now.

Baya padded over and curled up at your side, purring low and warm. You reached out and stroked her back, your fingers moving slow.

“I know,” you whispered. “I miss her too.”

She'd been confused, after it all happened.

Your belly had been full one day, and then it wasn’t. Alexia had been home, and then she wasn’t. The laughter, the warmth, the weight of two people living and dreaming under one roof. Gone.

And Baya, for all her quiet intelligence and feline pride, couldn’t understand why the energy in the apartment had changed so suddenly. Why the crib box stayed unopened. Why you barely moved from the bed. Why you sobbed into her fur some nights and wouldn’t let her go.

She waited by the door for days, her tail flicking every time keys jingled in the hallway that weren’t yours. She wandered into the bedroom at night, meowed at the emptiness on the left side of the bed. She sniffed at the small pile of folded baby clothes you couldn’t bear to throw out.

She mourned with you.

She just couldn’t say it.

And you… you hadn’t had the words either. Not when Alexia said what she said that night. Not when she looked at you like it was your fault her heart broke.

So you left the apartment you once called home and came here. Smaller. Quieter. Yours. But not whole.

You turned your face into your knees, closing your eyes against the sting building behind them again.

Nearly a year, and still, the silence hadn’t learned how to soothe you.

Neither had the coffee shops. Or the sun. Or the passing time.

It had been six days since she saw you.

Six days since you walked out of that coffee shop with shaking hands and eyes glassy with everything you didn't say. Six days, and Alexia still hadn't forgiven herself for going after you.

The apartment was quiet now. She was back home, her real home, the one you'd picked together. The walls still held the shape of your laughter in them, somehow. It was cruel, how sound could linger after everything else had gone.

She sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees. Her phone dangling from her fingers. No notifications. She hadn't expected any.

The nausea had eased some, but it still came in waves. Especially when she thought of you. Of what she's said that night.

She could still see it. Your face. That look right after the words left her mouth. The way you crumbled so quietly it took her days to realize it was the last time you'd let her see you fall apart.

Her mother had told her to stop torturing herself, but Alexia knew that was easier said than done.

It had been almost a year, and still, her mind replayed the same moment over and over: Her own voice, too sharp. Too cruel.

Your silence, like a blade.

She hadn’t meant it. God, she hadn’t meant it.

But grief made monsters out of people. And that night, Alexia had let hers win.

Now, with the house too quiet and your ghost in every corner, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

She reached over, picked up the folded onesie from the drawer she never opened anymore, pressed it to her chest, and let herself fall back on the bed.

It was soft. Still smelled faintly of lavender and that detergent you insisted was the only one that didn't smell too clean. She had argued, said the baby wouldn't care. That they'd throw up on it anyway. You'd just smiled, hand already resting over your swollen stomach, and said... humor me.

You'd been five months along when you found it.

Tiny. Pale yellow. With a stiched little bee in the centre. You held it up in the shop like it was some kind of treasure, eyes wide with the kind of hope Alexia hadn’t let herself fully lean into yet. Not then. It terrified her, how ready you were to love something so small, so vulnerable, so not here yet.

Still, after that day, she started calling her mi abejita.

Her little bee.

She’d whisper it against your belly when she thought you were asleep, her hand spread wide across your skin, anchoring herself to a future that scared her just as much as it thrilled her.

Sometimes she'd hum, quiet and low in her throat, the way her mother used to do when she was small. And she's imagine a baby cradled in your arms with your same sleepy smile, the onesie soft and warm around their tiny limbs.

Abejita, she’d say with a grin whenever she came home from training. Crouching down to kiss your stomach before she kissed you. You'd always roll your eyes. Pretend to scoff at how she made everything a nickname, but your hand would always find hers. Always.

And then one day, your belly was still.

And the nursery door stayed closed.

She hadn’t said abejita since.

Couldn’t.

Now, holding that soft yellow fabric to her chest, Alexia felt the name bloom and break all over again inside her.

After a long pause, Alexia sat up slowly, pushing herself to her feet. The onesie lay crumpled in her hands as she stared at the empty space across the room, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest.

She needed to say something. Needed to tell you she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant the things she said. But the words wouldn’t come. They never did.

With a shaky breath, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and unlocked it. She started typing, her fingers hovering over the screen for what felt like hours. Finally, she began. Just simple words, just a simple I'm sorry. But she couldn’t do it. She deleted it. Again.

Instead, she stared at the screen. She thought of you. How you used to look at her when you smiled, the quiet way you held her. How you used to laugh at her silly nicknames for everything, how abejita used to make you roll your eyes, but never in a bad way.

Her thumb hovered over the message again.

"I miss you."

She couldn’t send it. Not yet. But it was the first time in months she allowed herself to write it.

Alexia stared at the screen for another minute before locking her phone and tossing it back onto the bed.

She sat there for a while longer, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. Still, the thought of reaching out felt like a lifetime away. Like something she didn’t deserve to do yet.

The next weekend, you didn’t expect to find yourself standing outside the stadium. You couldn’t even explain why you were here, the crowds buzzing around you like a memory you didn’t want to remember but couldn't shake.

It all started when you stumbled upon an old pair of tiny FC Barcelona socks. Blue and garnet, with the faded emblem just visible enough to make your chest tighten.

They must’ve slipped from one of the boxes you had yet to go through. You hadn’t thought about that in so long, the way you used to laugh when Alexia came home from training with tiny gifts for a future you were both so excited about.

And then, as if some invisible force was pushing you, you found yourself walking. Just walking. Until you were here.

Outside the stadium.

The sound of the fans, the buzz of excitement, the occasional shout as people hurried in. It was almost too much. Too alive for the space inside you that felt so empty.

You didn’t plan to go in. You hadn’t even bought a ticket.

You were just standing there, watching, like a ghost.

The world around you seemed to move in a blur, and for a moment, you considered turning back. Going home. Pretending you hadn’t been pulled here by the quiet pull of memory.

And that’s when you saw them.

Alexia’s mother, Eli, and her younger sister, Alba, weaving through the crowd, both with bright smiles and eyes that searched the sea of faces around them. You froze. Your heart skipped, then thudded painfully against your chest as they drew closer.

“Oh,” Eli said, her voice warm, familiar. Her gaze softened when she spotted you, but there was something unreadable in her expression. “What a surprise.”

Alba, the younger of the two, gave a shy, cautious smile. “You’re here?” She asked, glancing at the entrance, her voice uncertain. “Are you going in?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and your throat tightened. You didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t even know why you were here.

“No,” you replied quietly, shaking your head, trying to hide the wave of emotion that had rushed over you. “I... I’m just here. Standing outside, I guess.”

Eli's eyes softened even more, and she stepped closer, her tone gentle. “I understand.” She said it like she didn’t need you to explain any more. Like she knew, and that somehow, in some way, she was here for you.

Alba looked between the two of you, almost unsure of what to say next, but Eli gave her a small, knowing nod.

“Sometimes it’s the first step,” Eli added, her voice quiet but firm, like she was offering something deeper than just a simple observation. “Just standing here. Even when you don’t know why you’re here.”

You nodded, the words slipping into your chest like a small, heavy stone. It was hard to breathe. But you didn't look away. You let the moment sit. You let it breathe. And just for a second, in the stillness of it, you could almost hear her. Alexia. Right there with you, her presence an echo in your bones.

You looked down at the tiny socks in your hand, the ones you hadn’t even realized you were still holding.

Without thinking, you pressed them into Eli’s hands. She blinked, surprised at first, but then looked down at the socks, her fingers brushing over the soft fabric.

“These...” you trailed off, unsure of what you were saying, why you were saying it. The words felt foreign. “For Alexia. Just... tell her... I don’t know. Tell her I’m sorry. Or that... I don’t know. Just give them to her, please.”

Eli’s gaze softened even more, and for the first time, you noticed the pain behind her eyes, the shared weight of everything unspoken. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to.

“I will,” she said simply, her voice steady.

And that was it.

No grand gestures. No promises.

But somehow, it felt like a first step.

The match had ended hours ago, the sounds of the cheering crowd still echoing in her mind, but now the stadium was quiet. Alexia stood at the back of the locker room, her body sore, her thoughts clouded with a heaviness that hadn’t left her since the moment she’d stepped onto the field.

She tried to focus on the game, tried to lose herself in the adrenaline and the sharp concentration that came with being on the pitch. But every time the ball came near her, every pass, every goal, her mind flickered back to you. How you used to cheer for her, your eyes bright and full of pride. How you would bring her small tokens of love after every match. Sometimes a coffee, sometimes a handwritten note tucked inside her locker.

But it wasn't just the little thigns that made her heart ache. It was the bigger things, the things she has allowed herself to dream about. How, when you'd sit together on quiet nights, you would talk about the future. About bringing your future daughter to the stadium one dat, a tiny Barcelona jersey on her back. Holder her up to see her mami play.

You'd laugh at how she'd probably be more interested in the snacks than the game, and how you'd support Alexia from the stands, together as a family.

Little bee. Abejita.

Her chest tightened, and she could feel the familiar ache deep inside her. The ache she’d tried to ignore, but no matter how hard she pushed, it was always there.

“Alexia,” her mother’s voice broke through her thoughts. Eli’s steady presence was a comfort, even when it felt like nothing could fix what had been broken.

She turned slowly, her hand still gripping the locker as if it could steady her. Eli stood there, Alba beside her, both of them looking at her in that quiet, knowing way they always did when something was wrong.

Eli didn’t say anything right away. She just looked at Alexia, letting the silence stretch between them. It wasn’t judgment, not really. It was more like she was giving Alexia the space to break if she needed to.

“You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” Eli said softly, her voice like the calm after a storm. “But I think you know what’s in your heart.”

Alexia swallowed hard, the weight of her emotions threatening to spill over. She had spent the entire match trying to bury everything. Bury the memories. Bury the guilt. But it all came crushing back now, unstoppable. She wanted to say something, to explain, to apologize. But nothing felt enough. The words wouldn't come.

It was Alba who spoke next, her voice quieter than usual, almost uncertain. “We saw her, Ale. Outside the stadium.”

Alexia’s heart stuttered. “What?”

Eli nodded, her eyes soft but tinged with a sadness Alexia had come to recognize all too well. “She was standing outside, near the entrance. Just... standing there.”

“She gave me this,” Eli continued, holding out the tiny pair of FC Barcelona socks.

Alexia’s breath hitched in her throat. “She gave you those?” The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and she quickly blinked away the sting behind her eyes.

Eli looked at her, her expression a mixture of understanding and something else, something softer. “Yes. She asked me to give them to you.”

Alexia didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t breathe. The socks in her mother’s hands seemed to hold all the things she couldn’t put into words. All the things she had wanted to say but hadn’t been able to.

Her hands shook as she reached out, gently taking the socks from her mother, holding them in her palm like they were something precious.

“I don’t know what to do,” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t look up at her mother or sister, keeping her gaze focused on the soft fabric between her fingers. She didn’t want them to see how fragile she felt.

Eli stepped closer, her hands reaching to rest on Alexia’s shoulders, grounding her. “You don’t have to know yet. You don’t have to have all the answers. But you know, I can see it in you. How much you love her, how much you want to fix this.”

Alexia felt something inside her crack, the weight of everything breaking open. Her mother was right. She did want to fix it. She wanted to reach out, to somehow make things right again. But every time she tried to take that step, the fear gripped her. Fear that it was too late, fear that she had already destroyed everything.

“You don’t have to go back right now,” Eli said softly, as if reading Alexia’s mind. “But I think it’s time to stop running from it. She gave you a way back.”

Alexia looked down at the socks again, the softness of them almost too much to bear. “She still wants me to... come back? Even after everything I said?” Her voice cracked, the guilt making her stomach twist.

Alba stepped forward now, her young eyes filled with a wisdom Alexia had always admired. “She gave you those socks. That’s a sign.” She smiled faintly, though it was tinged with sadness. “She still cares. I think she’s just waiting for you to take the first step.”

A silence hung in the air, but this time, it felt different. It felt like a possibility.

She told herself she would try to find you the next day.

After the game, after the conversation with her mother and sister, after holding those tiny socks to her chest for what felt like hours. She knew. She had to try. No more running. No more waiting for signs she was too scared to follow through on.

But that night, as she finally drifted into restless sleep, her body aching and her heart just as sore, her mind pulled her somewhere else.

You were there.

Not in the way you had been outside the stadium, hesitant and hurting, but in the way she remembered you. Glowing. Soft. Heavy with life and laughter and something so close to joy, it made her breath catch even in the dream.

You were on top of her, hips rocking slow, full of warmth and reverence. Her hands were splayed across your belly, round and full. Your skin hot beneath her palms. Her eyes couldn't look away.

"Do you still like it when I ride you like this?" you asked, your voice teasing and breathless. But it wasn’t just playful. It was searching too. Needy in the way heartbreak always was.

She tried to answer but her throat caught. She nodded, her hands tightening on your hips as you moved, the weight of you grounding her in a way nothing else had since.

You leaned in, brushing your lips along her jaw, your belly pressing against her chest. She swore she could feel the faintest movement under her hands. Like the dream version of your daughter was still there, still alive between you.

You kissed her again. “We could’ve had this forever,” you whispered.

And then you were gone.

Alexia woke with a sharp gasp, her skin damp with sweat, legs tangled in the sheets. The ache between her thighs was real, but it was nothing compared to the aching in her chest. She pressed a hand to her stomach, then to her heart.

Maybe it did.

It was the 14th of the month.

One more month.

One more month since everything fell apart. Since the bleeding. Since the stillbirth. Since the silence. Since the words that should never have been spoken. Since the goodbye that was never really said, but lingered in the air like smoke in a house that used to feel like home.

You didn’t mean to go to the valley that morning. You just drove.

No destination. No playlist. Just the ache in your chest and the silence of a car that had once carried soft humming, lazy conversations, Alexia’s laugh when you'd mispronounce a Spanish word. It was automatic, muscle memory, the road pulling you toward the one place that still felt like it belonged to both of you.

The valley hadn’t changed. The grass was wild again, yellow and green in patches. The air smelled of damp soil and eucalyptus. A few wildflowers had managed to push through the dirt like they always did. Resilient things.

You parked and stepped out, the wind curling around your coat. Your boots sank slightly in the soft earth as you walked toward the ridge. The same one where you used to sit with her, her hand always reaching for yours. Her head sometimes resting on your shoulder when she was tired, which was often.

Baya hadn’t wanted to be left alone that morning. She meowed at the door when you grabbed your keys, her eyes wide and alert. But you had to go. Just this once. Just for a little while.

You sat down slowly, hugging your knees to your chest.

The wind moved around you like it remembered. Like it knew.

You didn’t cry. You just... breathed. Let yourself feel the ache without fighting it. Let the memory of her hands settle in your lap like something you were finally brave enough to hold again.

It was the 14th.

Almost a year.

And you still weren’t sure if you had healed, or if you were just getting better at carrying the weight.

You hadn’t meant to bring the ultrasound photo.

It was still tucked inside that old journal you barely opened anymore, the one with the fraying spine and soft pages that had soaked up more grief than ink over the past year. But when you reached into your bag, it was there. Right between a folded tissue and an old receipt from the coffee shop neither of you had stepped into since.

You took it out with careful hands, like it might tear just from being touched again. The little curve of a shape in that black-and-white blur. The tiny heartbeat that had lit up the screen like a miracle. You traced your thumb across the corner without meaning to.

“You would've almost be walking by now,” you whispered.

You placed the photo gently in the grass beside you, weighted with a stone, the wind catching at its edges like it, too, didn’t want to let go.

You didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

The wind had picked up, and your ears were full of it. Until they weren't. Until the quiet sound of shoes crunching on fresh grass made you stiffen just slightly, not turning around, but not breathing either.

You knew that step.

Alexia stood a few meters back, uncertain, her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket. Her hair was tucked messily into a bun, her cheeks pink from the wind, and her eyes. God, her eyes, already glassy when she looked at you.

And when you finally turned to see her, you saw what she was holding.

The onesie.

The socks.

She didn’t say anything. She just knelt in the grass beside you slowly, like any sudden movement might break the air between you.

You watched her hands fumble, nervous, careful. She placed the tiny socks down beside the ultrasound photo. Then the onesie, folded like a prayer.

No words yet. Just things you both had once bought for a life that had never arrived. And still, somehow, here you were. Carrying it all, together again, in the only way you knew how.

Her voice was barely a breath. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You nodded. “I didn’t know you would either.”

A pause.

“I think… I think we needed to be.”

It was silent for a while.

The kind of silence that doesn’t ask to be filled, only witnessed. The wind rustled through the grass around you, tugging gently at the corners of the ultrasound photo, the folded edge of the onesie. Baya wasn’t there, but somehow, it still felt like the three of you. Four of you. Together again in some impossible aching way.

Alexia sat beside you with her knees drawn up, arms around herself like she was holding in something too fragile to name.

Then she broke.

She tried to hold it in. You saw it. The way her jaw tightened, the way she blinked too fast. But it cracked through anyway, as soft and sudden as a prayer:

“Our abejita…”

Her voice cracked on the last syllable, and it was over. Her shoulders caved in, her hands trembling as she reached out, not for you, but for the space between the socks and the photo.

“Oh God,” she gasped, covering her mouth. “I... she was real. She was ours.”

''Our abejita...''

You didn’t realize you were crying until the wetness blurred your vision. Your throat burned. You wanted to say something, anything, but you couldn’t. You could only cry. Because hearing Alexia call her that again, our little bee, it did something to you. Ripped you open and, somehow, stitched a piece of you back together all at once.

And even now, almost a year later, the words she’d screamed at you that night came flooding back like a fresh bruise to the chest.

“Your body was never ready for this. You ruined this.”

You had never heard her sound so angry. Never heard her say something so cruel. And she hadn’t meant it, you knew that now. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t split something deep in you. Because you believed her. For a long time, you did.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, as if reading your mind. “I swear to you. I was scared, and broken, and angry at everything but you. But I didn’t know how to hold it. I let it turn into something sharp, and I threw it at you because you were the only person close enough to catch it.”

She looked at you then, fully. No walls, no defenses. Just tear-streaked eyes and open hands.

“I am so sorry.”

It was almost unbearable, the honesty in her voice.

“I killed everything when I said that,” she continued, voice shaking. “And you... you were already in pieces, and I made it worse. I didn’t know how to stay. I hated myself for what happened and instead of protecting you, I punished you for it.”

You pressed your hand against your chest, as if that could steady your breathing.

“She’s not gone,” you said softly, eyes on the little things you had both brought. The photo, the socks, the onesie still faintly smelling of clean cotton and what-ifs. “She’ll always be with us.”

Alexia made a soft sound, half a cry, half a breath. Her hand inched closer to yours on the ground.

You nodded, eyes wet. “No matter where we go, or who we become. She's part of both of us. We made her real.”

Alexia’s lips trembled as she closed the gap between your hands, her pinky brushing yours.

“She was love,” she said. “Even if it was short.”

You leaned into her shoulder just slightly. Not a promise. Not a reset. Just a quiet return to something that had never really stopped mattering.

The wind moved gently through the valley again, and somewhere, in the quiet between your bodies, the ache felt a little less lonely.

You didn’t talk much after that.

Just sat there for a while longer, letting the silence hold both your grief and whatever it was that had started to bloom between the cracks again. And when you stood, brushing the grass from your coat and gathering the little things you both couldn’t bear to leave behind, Alexia didn’t ask what came next.

But when you looked at her, really looked, you knew you couldn’t let her walk away again.

“Come home with me,” you said, gently. “Just for a bit.”

Her eyes flicked up, unsure, guarded again for a moment like she didn’t trust herself to hope. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I don’t think I could take being alone tonight. And… I think maybe you can’t either.”

She hesitated, but only for a second. Then she nodded, and followed you to the car.

The drive back was quiet. Not awkward. Just... tender. Like you were both trying not to breathe too loud, afraid it might startle the fragile thread that had formed between you again.

When you opened the door to your apartment, the lavender hit first. Then the warmth. Baya was already padding over with soft little steps, tail high, eyes wide with curiosity.

And as soon as she saw Alexia, she stopped.

Her ears perked. She stared for a long beat, and then walked right over like it hadn’t been nearly a year.

Alexia dropped to her knees without a word, arms opening instinctively.

Baya pressed into her chest, letting out a low, whiny meow that sounded so close to a question, and a forgiveness, all at once.

Alexia’s head dropped forward, her forehead resting against Baya’s soft fur. You watched her shoulders shake.

“I missed you Baya,” she whispered to the cat, and maybe to you, and maybe to something else entirely.

You closed the door quietly behind you. Took a breath.

It wasn’t fixed. Nothing was. But watching the two of them, your past and your maybe, staring back at each other like they'd both been waiting for this.

It felt like something had come home.

The months that followed were soft, hesitant, like a dawn breaking after a long, difficult night. Neither of you rushed. Neither of you knew exactly how to begin again, but somehow, in the quiet moments, you found your way back.

It wasn’t perfect. You both knew that. There were days when the silence felt too thick to bear, when one look or one word would send you spiraling into a place you weren’t sure you’d come back from. But then, there were moments when Alexia would brush her fingers across your hand as you sat in the kitchen, a reminder that she was still there. Still with you.

And you? You slowly learned how to trust again. Not all at once, but piece by piece. There were mornings when Alexia would wake up early, as she always did, and bring you coffee without a word.

Placing it beside you on the couch as she sat next to you, pulling you close with that quiet strength you’d always loved. She wouldn’t rush. She wouldn’t demand anything. She just was there, and somehow, that was enough.

At night, you’d fall asleep with your head resting on her shoulder, her steady heartbeat under your ear. You remembered how it used to be, how safe you had felt in her arms before everything had come crashing down. And every night, you’d wake up to find her still there, steady as ever, like she hadn’t moved an inch.

There were conversations that had to be had. Real ones. Hard ones.

Alexia would sit across from you, hands in her lap, eyes soft but still heavy with guilt. “I’m not going to lie,” she’d say, voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m scared, too. I don’t know how to make things right, but I want to. I want us to be whole again.” You tried couples therapy. Which helped a lot with regaining trust.

You'd listen. You’d feel the weight of her words, of her vulnerability, but there was a flicker, tiny, almost imperceptible that reminded you of the woman you had loved so deeply before. It was there, and that was the start of it. That was where you began.

You both took things slowly, learning how to be in each other's lives without the expectation that everything would be fixed overnight. But what you found, what you built, was trust. It wasn’t the same as before, not entirely, but it was a new kind of trust. One that came with an understanding of each other’s broken pieces, the shared acknowledgment of your wounds, and the slow, steady work of mending them together.

One afternoon, Alexia took you to the beach, a place you hadn’t visited since the pregnancy. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed it until you stood there, the waves crashing against the shore, the salty air filling your lungs. She held your hand, her touch grounding you as the world seemed to fall away.

“We never went for a walk on the beach with her.” she asked, her voice soft.

You shook your head, the memory still sharp, still tender. “No. We didn’t.”

“She’d have loved it here,” Alexia murmured, her voice thick with both regret and longing. “The sound of the waves... the feel of the sand. She’d have loved the ocean.”

You squeezed her hand, your heart heavy but somehow lighter all at once. “We’ll take her with us. Every step. She’s still with us.”

Alexia nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. And in that moment, everything felt like it was beginning to settle into place, even if the pieces would never fit perfectly. The pain of the loss was still there, sharp and ever-present, but it no longer defined you. And neither did the past.

You started building something new together. One step at a time.

Two years later, everything had changed. Slowly, quietly, but with a depth that no words could quite capture. The pain of loss had softened, like waves smoothing over rough rocks. But it had never left.

You and Alexia had taken the leap. Adoption. Your sweet, bright little girl, now three years old, had found her way into your arms. She was perfect. And though there were days when fear still lingered, fear that you might not be enough, or that you might fail her.

Those fears had, over time, slipped away. You had become a family. Not in the way you had first imagined, but in the way life had ultimately unfolded. And it had been more beautiful than either of you could have hoped.

Alexia stood beside you, her fingers lightly brushing against your own. The years had softened her edges, but the strength you had always admired was still there, deep in her eyes, in the way she moved, in how she cared for your little one.

And then there was her family, Eli and Alba, standing just a few steps away. Sharing quiet smiles as they watched you all. You were all here, together. And this moment, this place, felt like a soft landing.

The sun was setting, painting the sky in streaks of pink and gold, and the air smelled of salt and fresh flowers. You walked slowly to the spot where you’d always imagined this moment. Where you’d been together before, and where you would be again.

Alexia had picked a few flowers along the way, yellow and white ones, the same ones you had always picked when you came here. The same ones you had brought to the valley to remember your lost child.

She would’ve liked these,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper.

Alexia paused, kneeling down to gather more of the delicate blooms. She smiled faintly. “I think she would’ve. Yellow, for our little bee.”

You crouched beside her, feeling the weight of it all. The bittersweetness, the peace, and the love that still flowed, undying, between you both.

Your daughter toddled over, her small hands holding her own bouquet of flowers. Tiny, but perfectly picked. She had always been fascinated by nature, by the way things grew, and how something as small as a seed could bloom into something beautiful.

You watched as she knelt down by the sand, carefully arranging the flowers in a circle. She spoke to herself as she worked, and you smiled when you heard what she said.

“Perfect... just for abejita.”

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat at the sound of the word, but when she looked at you, you only smiled gently, reaching for her hand.

“She’s always here,” you said softly, watching your daughter. “In everything we do. In everything we create. She’s part of us.”

Alexia nodded, her hand squeezing yours, the simple act of holding it a promise. A soft, unspoken promise that everything, everything, would be okay.

Together, you all placed the flowers by the sand, a quiet memorial that spoke of love, loss, and life continuing on. Your little girl’s laughter echoed in the wind, the sound of a future that was still bright, still full of hope. And even though the past would always be there, woven into the fabric of your family, it didn’t hurt the same anymore.

Your love for your daughter, for Alexia, and even for the memory of the little one you lost, would never fade. It was there, in every petal you placed in the sand, in every flower you picked together, in every laugh, every soft touch, every quiet moment shared between the three of you. It was all real. All still there.

“She would’ve loved it here,” Alexia said softly, watching your daughter run toward the waves, her little feet leaving footprints in the sand.

“She would’ve loved it,” you agreed, your voice full of a tenderness that only grew with time.

"She’s still with us."

''Our abejita.''

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Please let me know what you think of it. I would love to hear your thoughts.

#woso community #woso writers #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #woso imagine #fc barcelona femeni x reader #my long story #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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monarchberrysblog · 1 year ago

Text

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭

18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.

Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)

Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)

Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.

To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.

Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.

You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?

"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"

The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.

"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.

Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.

As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.

The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.

The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.

A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.

"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.

You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.

"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.

As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.

The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."

"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.

"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.

"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.

He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."

Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.

His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.

His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"

Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.

"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.

"I want it…"

"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.

"I want your cock… please."

After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.

Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"

"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"

You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.

"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."

It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"

He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.

"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.

The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.

Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"

The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."

It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.

His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.

“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”

“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”

The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.

The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”

With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.

“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…

“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.

“Pizza it is, then.”

#miguel ohara x reader smut #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel x you #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara fanfiction

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