#looking forward to working and catching up with some old friends
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zakiyah · 4 months ago
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#ok blessings!#I had a very good day actually I was just feeling cranky earlier because pain and talking to relatives. writing to remind my future self.#so!#had a 6 hr shift at work (busy but good for morale because the patients were all nice to me)#came home ate leftover curry and naan for lunch changed out of my scrubs and immediately left for town#(speaking of scrubs..I got new scrubs! they're a gorgeous dark berry color and so comfy and so many big pockets!)#hung out with one of my good friends. we laughed a lot and ran around by the river.#and went to a bookstore and then got tea!#and then in the little rock and roll shop#we ran into a girl I knew in middle school and we got to catch up! sometimes seeing old friends is awkward but this was chill.#and she said I should come back and chat next week! very fun.#also I did so much walking between work and the trail that my legs are sore which is DELIGHTFUL. I haven't worked out in an age.#yapped with my dad for an hour about music! I'm slowly but surely going to get him to like dnd via the sound design of worlds beyond number#now sitting down to answer some asks and then maybe watch some tv and go to bed.#I am so overjoyed and thankful that spring is in the air! even when we get another cold snap we'll just Know it's so so close!!#does marvels for my mood!!#praising God for the best week I've had in a while.#and also that most of my friends seem to be also doing better#this winter was just a Lot and I think we're all relieved and thankful to be looking forward to spring.#blessings#diary
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lucidfairies · 1 month ago
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— pretty in pink [sevika]
synopsis: after you lose your final strike, your parents all but banish you to their old friend's farm, and well, as much as you hate it, the woman happens to be obscenely attractive
pairing: rich!bimbo!reader x farmer! sevika
warnings: younger!reader (twenties, sevika is thirties/forties), mean!sevika, pussy eating, backshots, fingering, orgasm denial, domestic kink, breeding kink, free use mentioned, dirty talk, pet names, fucking in front of a mirror, breath play, oral fixation, spanking + counting spanks, degradation, stomach bulge, squirting strap, strap referred to as cock/dick
wc: 4.8k
a/n: lots of quick notes! this fic is very much based on this post by @polkadotzzzz !!! and per usual, so many thanks to my dearest @sevsgiirl for helping me out with this one 🩷
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It was only one party.
Your best friend, Jinx, invited you, and it was a well known fact that Jinx knew the best parties, with the best drugs and the best drinks. So of course you couldn’t turn her down, and thank god you didn’t. The party was packed, and the drinks and drugs were more than anything you had ever dreamt of.
That being said, when a picture of you snorting a line circled all of the tabloids, it was easy to say that your parents wanted your head on a stick. Your parents were notorious in town, seeing as they were the wealthiest. Somehow, their money got them top spots in every celebrity gossip magazine, and you were in no way except from it.
The idea was ridiculous. You were an adult, standing tall in your twenties, and it wasn’t anyone’s right (especially your parents) to tell you how to live your life. If you wanted to snort coke at a party with fifty of your closest friends, then you were going to. No magazine was going to stop you.
That was how you landed here, on the front porch of a woman that you didn’t even know the name of. Your parents stood in front of you as you waited for her to answer the door, and when she finally did, you hardly bothered looking up from your phone. This wasn’t going to last long, you were sure of it. Your parents wanted you to live on a farm, tending to animals like some kind of slob. They claimed it would “get you in line”, as if your life meant that much to them.
You had several men behind you, shuffling in your number of suitcases as your parents hugged the woman before you and made efforts to catch up. For someone they claimed to have known for so long, you had never heard of the woman, and when you looked up and finally got a good look at her, you only remembered her face from one meager photo on the wall.
She was tall, taller than your father even, and she was packed with pure muscle. The woman was truly intimidating, but you attempted to shrug it off. Maybe you could offer her money in return for not making you work with anything dirty.
“Sevika, we are so grateful for you,” your mother spoke softly, taking her hand and patting it like she was doing some innumerable service to them. “This is our daughter, I don’t think you’ve ever met her,” you stepped forward, still scrolling on your phone as you popped a large bubble of gum. Your mother wacked your arm and you rolled your eyes, turning off your phone.
“‘m Sevika,” she reached a hand out and you looked at it for a moment, noticing every speck of dirt that graced her palm. “Y’r daddy says you’re in need of someone to set you straight, sound about right?” Your dad chuckled and you sighed.
“That’s not exactly how I’d phrase it, pretty sure I’m just living my life as an adult,” you side-eyed him with a glare. “And regardless, none of this is any of your business.” You huffed. To you, it truly wasn’t anyone’s. Your parents' public image didn’t matter to you, you didn’t want any part in it.
Sevika hummed, turning to your dad. “Don’t you worry, boss. I’ll get ‘er in line. Thanks for stoppin’ by, ‘m sure you’ve got a lot to get to.” With a long bunch of final goodbyes, your parents were gone, and you were left alone with a stranger. The idea pissed you off - your parents were tired of dealing with you, and instead of wiping that picture off of the internet, they decided to dump you on a random woman.
“So what exactly will I be doing here?” You said, twirling a piece of hair around your finger as you popped another bubble. “I won’t have to like… clean up animal shit, right? I just got a manicure and I didn’t pay two hundred dollars just to ruin my hands, y’know?” Sevika rolled her eyes.
“You’re gon’ do what I tell you to do. That’s the point of this lil’ apprenticeship. Your bedroom is upstairs on the right. We wake at five, feed the animals, eat, and spend the rest of the day outside.” Your jaw dropped, eyebrows knitting. Sevika could see the piece of gum chewed into your teeth.
“Five in the morning? Why on earth would I get up that early?” You scoffed, pulling your phone out again. You could hardly wait to tell Jinx about this, but halfway through your message, your phone was being snatched from your hands.
“Jus’ because your father let you get away with being a brat don’t mean that I will. This,” she waved your phone around, “is mine now. For the rest of the summer, you work for me, and you work when I work, y’hear me?” You almost wanted to laugh at her. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t going to work.
“Whatever you say, boss,” you popped yet another bubble in her face this time, mocking the title she used for your dad mere minutes ago. “Do you have people who can like, take these up for me?” You looked over at your bags and she laughed at you.
“It don’t work like that out here, darlin. You carry your own things up. Since y’r new, I’ll take one for y’a. But only one.” You groaned, grabbing one of the suitcases as she did and following her upstairs. Compared to your bedroom at home, this room was like a closet. She dropped the luggage on the floor as if it wasn’t a ten thousand dollar handmade pink set.
“Well, where I’m from, we don’t throw expensive things on the ground like animals,” you shot, picking up the suitcase. “This is so not going to work out.” Sevika rolled her eyes, disappearing down the hall for the evening. Thank god you finally got a break from her.
The next morning was like hell. She woke you up bright and early, just like she said she would, and tossed you a disgusting pair of overalls that she instructed you to put on. Not only was the outfit ugly, but she also gave you no time to do your hair and makeup before she was yelling at you to get out the door.
“I’m not touching that,” you pulled your hands back as she handed you a bucket full of god knows what. “That’s disgusting, I already told you-”
“You ain’t breakin’ a nail, I get it. Suck it up and go feed the pigs. It ain’t gonna kill y’a.” You rolled your eyes, still not taking the bucket from her hands.
“No.” Her jaw tightened, and her angry gaze fell upon you. You noticed, then, that her eyes were grey, and they shined. If you didn’t hate her guts already, you would obviously coin that they were gorgeous, like the rest of her. But you hated her guts.
“Listen here, you brat,” her accent got thicker. “I’m not any happier about this than you are. But we’re here, and my job is to set you straight. So man up and go feed the pigs.” You glared, but took the bucket regardless. She rolled her eyes as you stormed off, the heavy bucket weighing you down.
You had to admit, the pigs were quite cute, especially the small ones. But that didn’t outweigh the muck on your hands, or the fact that this jackass woman insisted that you were a brat.
-
Two weeks of absolute torture had gone by. There was no way in hell that you would keep this up, not for the whole summer. You couldn’t even get through a month, let alone four. Not to mention the woman hadn’t even hinted at the idea of giving you a break. You didn’t go out for dinner, didn’t take days off, didn’t go to clubs. It was the worst possible life of a rich city girl.
Sevika was a terrible boss. She was mean and strict and she hated everything about you, you were sure of it. However, the woman was undeniably attractive, in a terrible way. She was mean to you and it made your knees weak, she called you a brat and you thought about her taking the brat out of you. I mean, look at those arms. She could take you whenever and wherever she wanted.
You were sure, though, that this was simply because you hadn’t had sex in three weeks.
“Sev,” you wandered downstairs, crop top and shorts clinging to your body like it was life support. She was on the couch, reading the newspaper in her reading glasses like it was 1983. She looked up, eyes dancing down the curves of your figure before snapping back to her paper. “Are there any local bars? I’m thinking of going out.”
“No and no.” She grumbled. “‘s jus’ gonna land you in the same situation that got you here. You’re not doin’ that.” You sighed. Luckily, contrary to her knowledge, you knew where your phone was, and Google Maps would happily show you local bars.
Without responding, you strolled your way back upstairs, gracefully grabbing your phone and typing in bars. To your dismay, only one came up, but it didn’t matter to you. That was the one you would go to, and the thought of getting drunk gave you a buzz almost better than weed.
You planned it perfectly: Sevika went to bed early, of course, so you could easily sneak out once she was asleep. You didn’t leave your slutty clothes at home, in fact, you filled two suitcases with them, so when the day came, the glittery, pink dress that was far shorter than it should be called your name loudly. It was a v-neck, falling far into the crack of your tits, with a south Asian inspired scarf. You paired it with pink heeled boots, and pink makeup to finish the look. The night was going to be amazing, you could tell just from the outfit.
The plan started well.
Sevika went to bed, as you planned, and you were able to get out with your phone, no less. You called yourself a taxi and got to the bar without a problem, practically welcomed like a queen. You tried to tell yourself that all of the stares and hoots and free drinks were because people knew you and not because all of the old men thought that you were hot, but it was notably the latter.
You loved free drinks, at the end of the day it didn’t matter who they were from or why they were sending them. So, as the shots poured in, you were more than happy to take them, and take them and take them.
Fortunately, some strange men also paid for your food, sobering you up every couple of shots. You didn't want to be drunk when you got home, fearing that it would interrupt Sevika's sleep, and lead to her finding out that you snuck out. So, the random meals and several glasses of water allowed you to maintain a constant state of switching between sober and not sober.
You all but sobered up when the bar doors slammed open, and Sevika appeared in the middle. She came towards you, grabbed your arm, and dragged you off of the barstool. She tossed some cash on the bar and turned towards you, furious. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She hissed, grinding her teeth together.
“Sev,” you groaned, looking around at all the eyes looking at you. “Can we not do this here?” You attempted to pull your arm from her grip with no avail. Instead, she spun the two of you around, pushing you towards the door and out of the bar with the grip still right on your arm.
She didn't release you until the both of you made it into her truck, where she slammed the door in your face and got into the driver's seat. “D’you think about things before you do ‘em? At all?” She roared, pulling out of the bar. “Did you see the way those men looked at you? You coulda gotten yourself in serious trouble.” You rolled your eyes, your favorite thing to do when she was around.
“It’s not your job to police what I do. In fact, I think you’re jealous. At least I have men paying for my drinks. You wish.” She practically cackled at that, and your already lame comeback made you feel even smaller. You were sure Sevika didn’t even like men, especially when you were digging through one of her drawers looking for your phone and stumbled across some interesting magazines.
“If I wanted that, I could have that, and y’know it, peach. This ain’t about me, though. Get your ass in line or I’m tellin’ your daddy to leave you out here, ‘nd you know he will.” The thought of staying here any longer than you had to made you want to tear your hair out. Maybe the thought alone was enough to keep you in line. She pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, turning to you with a sigh. “Don’t do that shit again. ’m not like your parents, ’m not writin’ off y’r dumbass choices.”
“Let me go out then, for the love of god. Drinking won’t kill me.” You turned your attention to your hand, picking at your nail. “Not to mention, I haven’t had sex in weeks. Weeks! I could’ve checked that box tonight and you wouldn’t have had to deal with me like this anymore.” She was clearly unamused, wide lips remaining downturned.
“You’re actin’ the same way now that you do all the time; like a fuckin’ brat. Go inside and go to bed, for god’s sake.” She popped her door open and got out, slamming the door behind her. You waited a moment before following her, still angry from her slew of comments throughout the evening.
“Maybe it’s your fault,” you said when you stepped into the home, “you’re the one who’s mean to me, taking my things, making fun of my clothes. You’re a fucking jackass. I have no reason to listen to you. Full grown adult, remember?” You sneered, gesturing up and down your body.
“I did what I was told. Take a fuckin’ chill pill. I ain’t gon’ stand here arguin’ with you, it’s a waste of time.” She began to walk past you and you grabbed her arm, pulling as hard as you could. She was significantly larger and stronger than you, so you weren’t surprised when your efforts made little difference.
“You don’t get to just walk away in the middle of an important conversation! Stop being a fuckin-” She turned quickly, large body almost caging you against the wall. If you wanted to, it wouldn’t be hard for you to simply go left or right and move away from her. But now, her body was close, and warmth was bouncing between the two of you, and well, the same need from earlier came back.
“Stop.” She demanded, tone low. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as if talking to you was the most taxing thing on this earth. She stood there for more than a moment, eyes drilled into yours with an innate sense of fury. This was her breaking point. She wondered how long it would take when she first met you. You were driving her fucking insane.
“Make me.” You spat, angrily. She almost did. Truly. Well, until you did it for her.
She backed up and you followed her, chasing her heat. Before you knew it, the cotton of her shirt was in your hands and you were clumsily pulling her forward, pressing up on your toes until your mouth was pressed against hers. By some miracle, she didn’t fight it. Her large hands cupped your face, pulling you in and pressed her lips harshly to yours.
She wasted no time before she was running her tongue along your lips and pushing it into your mouth, knees practically weak when you moaned like a fucking slut. She wasn’t especially gentle when she pushed you against the wall behind you, but her tongue down your throat and her knee between your legs made up for it.
Your hands begged to run down her figure, but you weren’t exactly in the position to take control, so you instead placed them around her neck, pulling on the short hair on the back of it. Her hands met your hips, pinning you to the wall so that you wouldn’t grind against her. You pulled back from her lips, meeting her angry eyes once again before dropping your lips to her neck, sucking a dark hickey into it.
“Fuck,” she groaned, “‘course you like trashy shit like this.” she continued as you left several more. Your hands dragged down her front, finding her chest promptly. “Upstairs, now.” She pulled back from you, but you grabbed her hand and pulled her behind you. You had only been in her room briefly to acquire your phone, so the details of it had never been your focus. But now, you focused on the purple color of her sheets and the ambiance of it.
Like a pornstar, you pushed her back onto the bed, slipping your dress over her head and finding purchase in her lap. Her hand ran along your stomach, admiring your body briefly before closing her eyes. “This isn’t right, darlin’. ‘m too mad, and I promised y’r daddy I would get you straight.” You giggled.
“I like mad.” you insisted, tugging your lip between your teeth and grinding your hips into her, urging her to open her eyes. You leaned in, warm breath hitting her ear. “Put me in my place?” You squealed when she lifted you up and flipped you, trapping you under her.
“You ain’t gonna get what you want from this. ‘m gon’ fuck some sense into that pretty head, huh?” You nodded, smiling too wide to focus on anything she was saying. You were a fucking airhead, god, there were so many things she wanted to do to you.
You didn’t have anything but a cheap pair of panties under the dress, meaning that she had spent the last several minutes attempting to focus on anything that wasn’t your tits. But now? Now her mouth was blessing your left nipple, tugging it into her mouth and sucking, pinning you down with a hand on your lower stomach once again. She wanted to fuck the shit out of you, sure, but you weren’t getting what you wanted any time soon.
She switched tits, kneading the other with her palm. As she sucked, her fingers pulled at your nipple, creating the perfect combination of soft and rough. You were moaning like a bitch in heat, and she adored it. You were so fucking easy, letting her in your pants like it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t long before she was kissing her way down to your panties, keeping eye contact with you as she did it. She looked like an animal hunting its prey, and the prey was you. You realized, then, that she had you exactly where she wanted you.
You knew you were in for it when she took a fat lick from the bottom of your cunt to the top, over your panties. You whined, back arching off the bed as your head fell back. She planned to eat you over your panties until you cried and begged for her, but she couldn’t take it. You were soaked through, like floodgates opened between your legs, and she needed you.
She pulled your panties down your legs, pushing your thighs apart until you were fully on display for her. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” she mocked, not breaking her gaze on your pussy. She leaned in, hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, and pressed a kiss to your clit. Your hips twitched and you whined again, lacing one of your hands in her hair.
She ate you like the world was ending.
Her tongue blessed all the pretty places that you needed it, flicking against your clit and fucking into you, sucking up every last drop that you had. She loved it, loved the way you moaned and twitched and begged for her to not stop, never stop. You were halfway to your orgasm and she pulled up, looking as if she was in an absolute daze.
“Gon’ make you a housewife, baby. Eat this pussy whenever I want, how’s that sound? Fuck, look at you,” her middle finger circled your entrance, gathering all of her spit and your slick. You sucked her in as she pushed it in knuckle by knuckle, and she swore she blacked out. “Pretty girl just needed the snob fucked out of her, didn’t you?” you could’ve cried when she added another finger, crooking them up into the perfect spot. “Answer me, slut.”
“Yes, yes,” you cried, “please, whenever you want.” She grinned, like this was the best day of her life. With two fingers pumping in you, she kept her mouth busy on your clit, sucking hard until you were quite literally crying, tears streaming down your face as your stomach twisted.
You clenched down hard on her fingers and she pulled them out, stopping everything. You whined, lifting your hips to chase her. “Bad girls don’t get to come. Open,” she tapped your bottom lip and you did as told, taking her wet fingers in your mouth. She couldn’t stand you, couldn’t stand the way you squirmed and pushed your thighs together as you sucked her fingers, knowing that it made you so wet. “Lay across my lap, yeah, good girl.”
Notably, her kind sense of security was short lived once you were across her lap.
“Count. If you stop counting we start over, y’understand?” You nodded, unsure of what was about to happen until her mech hand came in harsh against your left ass cheek. You squeaked, hurling forward and gripping the sheets. “What’d I say, peach? Gonna count or get hit?”
“One,” you whimpered, crying out again when her hand came down on the other side. It felt so good. “Two,” she went back and forth until your ass was beet red, and you got to a sparse ten. You almost asked her to keep going, but with the way your cunt was drooling on her lap, she couldn’t possibly keep going.
“Up,” she instructed, tapping your ass twice. “Face the mirror, ass up, tits down.” You giggled again, knowing exactly what was coming. Doggy was probably your favorite position, but doggy facing a mirror had to be heaven on earth.
By the time you got your shit together enough to do as told, she was already back, pajama pants stripped and harness clinging to her hips. Sevika had the body of a god, truthfully. You had always gotten wet over her arms, but her abs and her hips were nothing less than god-like. All of her was simply perfect.
The strap hanging from the harness wasn’t anything like something you had seen or taken before. It was long and wide, with veins to detail. She had lube in one hand, from what you could see over your shoulder, but you couldn’t see what was in the other. She climbed up on the bed, kneeling behind you as she placed her series of materials down. First, she took your wrists and pinned them behind your back with a pair of silk handcuffs, and then she lubed up her strap until it was ready for you.
Gods, she could’ve come on spot when she teased your entrance with the tip. You moaned like a fucking whore, rocking back into her as your cunt begged. The tip alone had your eyes rolling back in your head, and your state didn’t improve as she continued pushing. “Sev,” you whined, “it won’t fit, ‘s too big,” you cried out, and she laughed at you.
“You’ll make it fit, won’t you, bunny? Yeah, you will.” And, well, you did. The strap hit its hilt, filling you to the absolute brim. Watching your pussy stretch around her dick had to be the best thing she’d ever seen. “Fuck, peach, knew you were trouble but I didn’t think you’d be such a whore, too.” She placed her large palm on your back, pressing down on your shoulder blades so that your back arched as far as it could.
She moved slowly, head thrown back as she listened to the noises you made. Not only were you moaning out of your mind, but your cunt squelched with every thrust, wetting her hips as your skin slapped together. The scene in the mirror was obscene, filthy even. You looked like a whore, jaw slacked and eyes in the back of your head as she plowed into you.
However, it all got dramatically worse when she pulled you up, so that you kneeled in front of her as she fucked you. Her large arm wrapped around your throat, bicep digging into your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around her arm, but in comparison, they were small. She held you like that until your brain got fuzzy, unrelenting in her pace. She used her free hand on your clit, rubbing it just the way you needed.
“Y’r so fuckin’ full, sweet girl. See that in y’r belly? ‘s my dick.” You could see it, the way her strap poked out in your stomach with every thrust of her hips. Filthy. It was the only way to describe it. “God, imagine if I could jus’ have you whenever I wanted you,” her arm loosened around your throat, but instead of pushing you back down, she pressed two fingers into your mouth.
Sevika could hardly deal with the sight of you. She had already come once, most definitely, but the vision of you in front of her could make her come again on command. You were so fucked out, so pliant. So willing to do whatever she wanted. “What’d y’r parents think if they saw you like this, huh? What if I fill you up, get you pregnant?” You could’ve screamed, but a loud whimper was the best she got.
She pulled her fingers from her mouth and bent you back over, grabbing your hips rather than pressing between your shoulder blades. “Please,” you begged, “please get me pregnant,” she threw her head back yet again, orgasm building in her stomach. “Please, please please, fill me up, Vika, please,” she groaned as she came against the back of the harness, hips stuttering and abs flexing.
“Gonna fill you up and make you a mommy, ain’t that right, pretty baby?” You moaned again, too gone for words. Tears streamed down your face as her pace started again, unrelenting yet again. She fucked into you so hard that the bedframe shook, and soon enough, that familiar feeling was developing in your stomach. “‘m gon’ stuff you full of my dick everyday, shit,”
You screamed when you came, and it got a million times better when a warm liquid filled you, making it feel like Sevika had, in fact, filled you up. When she pulled out of you, she almost came again. Your cum and hers dripped from your hole down your cunt, and she watched you twitch and drool into the bedsheets.
She was going to clean you up, of course, but your pussy had her fucking entranced.She knew she was fucked, she knew there wasn’t ever going to be a moment moving forward where she didn’t want you on her face. And now, every time you acted up, she could fuck you into oblivion.
She got you cleaned up and in clean clothes, tucked into her bed with her, head on her chest. “That get you in line?” She joked, brushing hair off of your face.
“I don’t know, maybe we’ll have to go again for good measure.” You teased, pressing your nose into her jaw as your lips found her neck again. You left a couple more hickies on the side of her neck that you didn’t hit earlier and she chuckled.
“Why’d’ya like those so much? Looks a little trashy to me.” You sighed. Of course it did, it was a younger group thing, and she was not in your age range.
“Jus’ makin’ what’s mine.” You giggled. She laughed with you, until you were both laughing. Maybe this arrangement wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought it would be.
tags: @ferxanda @skullsbown @watashiwaglr38 @angelllbabyy @rbnvrnxoxo @sweetnfemme @abbyanderswife @ellieshothousewife @2sosa @averysmorgue @ivorydevil @bunbunpudding @beatdariceee @that-one-daydream-you-forgot @jennylettersonsgf @furrytaesss @sunflowerwinds @ghost-queen101 @prettyyyy-girl
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rafesteddy · 2 months ago
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Here’s a little teaser of my DILF!Rafe x MILF!reader I'm working on… 💕🤭
it’s a standalone but you can read more dilf/milf au here
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+18 -> c/w completely unedited, swearing, 18 year old boys being gross, suggestive, Rafe doing DILFy Rafe activities aka washing a car #fuckingpurr
You lean into the counter, squeezing lemon after lemon into the pitcher, not really thinking—just letting the juice run down your fingers. It’s cold and sticky, soaking into the creases of your palms. The whole kitchen smells like sugar and citrus, with that warm, soft hint of cookies still cooling behind you.
The plate is already half gone, scarfed up by the group of teenagers congregating in the common space. They’re all tall, tan, and way too loud—sprawled out like they own the place.
“Sugar, please?” You ask as you gesture to Kelce’s son, perched on the counter, completely blocking the one cupboard you actually need.
“Yes, ma’am,” he hums, giving you a sweet smile as he hops to the floor and retrieves it for you.
His hand brushes yours when he passes it off. You thank him, sweet as always, and turn back to stir.
“Fuck, she wants me so bad,” he mumbles to your son, just out of your earshot.
Max groans, head thudding back against the cabinet door. “Fuck off, Tripp. Don’t fuckin’ start, alright?”
“Why else would she be in here squeezin’ her lemons?” Tripp groans, somehow making that sound as suggestive as possible.
“Hi, Mom!” Winnie calls, stepping in, her sandals slapping against the marble. Her boyfriend Jackson follows behind, arms already full—carrying the twins, their hair still wet from playing in the sprinkler, freshly dressed like they’re going out.
“Is it cool if we take the twins out for ice cream?” Winnie asks, only half-focused on you as she throws a displeased look at one of the boys who’s giving her an obvious up-and-down.
That same boy yelps when Max throws a punch, nailing him in the arm.
“M’gonna fuckin’ kill you,” he mutters, going after his sister too, which makes the other boys hoop and holler like it’s all one big game.
“Of course, sweetie,” you coo, walking toward the counter to grab your purse. You pull out some cash without hesitation.
“Oh—no, Mrs. Cameron, really, I’ve got it,” Jackson says quickly, but you glance back at him with a warm smile.
“That’s very sweet, but not necessary… Thanks for taking them off my hands for a little bit.”
You kneel in front of the twins, pushing back one of your daughter’s curls, brushing your son’s cheek.
“You two be good for your sister and Jackson, okay?”
You lean forward to kiss their cheeks, and without realizing it, your sundress shifts. The neckline dips—your breasts softly press together, your backside teasing the hemline—and you stay bent a moment longer than usual, whispering something about sprinkles and chocolate.
Behind you, the boys fall completely silent. The one who had been on the counter swallows hard. Another one stares like he forgot how to breathe.
“Max… dude. This is your life?”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” Your son mutters.
“I’d move in tomorrow. I’ll be your stepdad today.”
“Bet she tastes like sugar—”
“I said shut up,” Max snaps.
Another one of their friends walks in from the hallway, catches you mid-bend, and grins like the damn Cheshire Cat. He lifts both hands in the air like he’s holding your hips, thrusting behind you with an silent moan.
The rest of the boys lose it—coughing, snorting, trying to swallow their laughter as you stand up and smooth your dress, still completely unaware.
“All right, go have fun,” you sing out as the group starts to head for the door.
You return to the pitcher, lifting it to the sink.
You fill it slowly—water churning the lemon juice and sugar together, rising to the top—when your gaze drifts out the window. And you see him. Rafe...
Out front on the cobblestone walk, his white shirt soaked through, hose in one hand as he rinses down the G-Wagon. Sunlight hits the spray like glitter. Water clings to his tee, molding the fabric to every cut of his chest and arms. You freeze, breath caught, as he turns—hat flipping backwards with one hand.
Your thighs press together. Your grip tightens on the handle of the pitcher just as the water spills over the top, running down your hand in a sudden splash. You fumble for the sink and shut off the tap, your eyes never leaving him.
His shirt clings to his broad back, light blue swim trunks riding low on his hips and high on his thighs. One hand grips the bucket, the other coils the hose. The sun glints off his biceps. The thin cotton darkens, outlining every muscle, his chest shifting and flexing with each slow move.
“Have fun, boys,” you chirp, draining a splash of lemonade into a glass, your eyes locked on your husband until the very last second.
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morning-fragility · 3 months ago
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🔊 Sleep Token — The Apparition 🔊
What remains of you and me so far:
[ Check out the first post about this AU ]
Hii, my mind has been running every direction all at once lately, so RAW BULLET POINTS IT IS! 💥🔫
● It all starts when Jimmy asks Grian to help him with bore holes for their survey last fall.
(In his head, Grian agrees the very first time Jimmy comes to him, but enjoys taunting him for another week nontheless)
The place is in the middle of nowhere, and the entire way there — the entire long, tiring, mostly off-road way there — Grian wonders how they found this valley to begin with. Locals in the last village they pass smile at them condescendingly; forester is a bit more straight-forward: they look like three presumptuous idiots, Joel, Jimmy and himself, with their car getting stuck miserably at one point.
The very first bore hole drills directly into a human skull.
The complex swirl of emotions on Jimmy's face is like nothing Grian has seen before.
And so it was settled.
● (Yes, the skull they drill into was Jimmy's.)
● Next summer Grian brings along Mumbo, his fellow geologist and dear friend ever since their university times; he has never worked with archeologists before and is, naturally, chuffed to bits.
Scar has been eager for some kind of vacation for a long time, too, and gladly takes the opportunity to try something new.
The only other wild card in otherwise pretty well-established group of archeologists is Tango, who lost a bet to Skizz and is now stuck helping his boys.
(Cub was invited by multiple people as well, but sadly he's too busy with work and couldn't make it, despite planning to. Scar calls him every time he's able to catch the signal).
● At first everything goes normally. They get to the place, set up their camp near old cabin of local gamekeeper, move their provisions and most of the equipment inside the cabin, check out the river and find a good spot to get down to it easily. The weather is pretty nice, the nature around is gorgeous. The first time they go to take a proper look at the site itself Grian feels a bit dizzy, but he doesn't pay much attention to it and quickly joins the discussion of outlines of the buildings visible on the ground.
● The oddities begin a couple of days later, when they finish with the camp and start the actual work.
Specifically, Grian starts acting weird.
Not like it's out of character for him, but neither Scar, nor Joel or Mumbo recall him having, say, troubles with hearing; now, often he's not reacting when someone calls out to him directly, but mentions hearing people talk when nobody spoke. Sometimes he looks openly lost or suddenly stops in his tracks and gives them confused glances, as if wanting to ask something or surprised to see them. A couple of times he wonders off into the woods alone (to "check what's out there" )
The gang are reasonably worried about him, but hesitate to confront him openly. Most of them are not exactly familiar with Grian's personal life and don't want to overstep, and each time someone who is tries, he brushes them off.
● At some point in the beginning of the second week, Grian suddenly breaks into laughter when they uncover yet another skeleton. It's loud, abrupt. Hysterical.
Scar, who's getting real concerns now, steadies him by the shoulders and leads him away from the sun, back to the camp; but Grian barely notices.
On their way from the site, Grian locks eyes with Scott, who goes pale and stays that way for the rest of the day. That's enough for Grian to gather he's not the only one who's rapidly going insane.
● And Grian starts thinking he's going insane. At first he blames it on the nerves. The last couple of months have been stressful, the weather is hot lately, he's not getting enough sleep, he must have overworked himself...
But this barely explains what he's actively hallucinating, and eventually it all sinks in. The realization, the deja vus. The dread. The feeling of being trapped, helpless, stuck in a loop he had no idea existed and likely has no control over.
He withdraws into himself and starts avoiding people; particularly Scar, because oh, Grian is terrified of visions of him. Of hearing his voice say words he can't understand, of echo of his laughter carried through the valley, of his silhouette following him along the treeline. Of seeing what remains of his bones and trying not to throw up.
There are visions of others, too, and they mess with Grian's head all the same, sure, but Scar is just... different. Too much. Grian can't look him in the eye now, can't stand the warmth of his touch. But can't get away either.
They must've loved eachother then, too. He can tell.
This revelation makes Grian feel relieved and betrayed at the same time, and all he can think about is the question of free will.
● Scar is very confused by this change, even when he starts getting visions of his own.
Grian doesn't kiss him anymore. Doesn't smile at him. Often doesn't even sit near him or Mumbo at breakfast and lunch, too deep in conversation with Big B. He refuses to talk about this; ignores Scar only to suddenly brush shoulders or lean into him, and then act like it never happened.
Worst of all is the way Grian is looking at him lately — well, mostly he doesn't, — but when he does, it's with an emotion Scar can't identify. A mix of anger, sorrow, longing, guilt, and something else, much softer, tender. It drives Scar crazy.
Most of the expedition members don't even know there's something between them. Although they were never officially together, so even Scar himself is not sure anymore. He thought they were fine, but apparently he messed something up, didn't he? Overstepped somewhere, misunderstood something, rushed, did something wrong... Otherwise why would Grian be like this when they're clearly meant to be together, what in the world is he doing to both of them? Is he blind??
● (I really liked how poetically Birdie put this when I rambled about it to them):
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● And so, while Grian is staring at visions of Scar from the past with fear and sorrow, Scar chases the visions of Grian, curious about this version of him, needing to know more. He feels uneasy about some of the hallucinations at times, sure, but they intrigue him nevertheless.
● The expedition carries on, nevermind the awkward silences between people, half-truths, shared looks of confusion and deep, unspoken sadness.
● Scar paints local views, trees, mountains, the riverbank. Sometimes Bdubs or Pearl join him and they disappear together for hours, only to later return with hands full of sketches, wet canvases and Scar's trusty painter's case, with smudges of oil paint all over their hands and faces, laughing and chatting.
He tries to be a bit more sneaky about this, but he also draws people, Grian chief among them: little portraits of him are scattered all across his sketchbook, both real and the one from the visions. Along with Jimmy, Lizzie, Mumbo, Bdubs and others.
● They find a couple of old fishing rods in the cabin, and with a bit of tinkering and Etho's professional fishing kit, there's an impromptu fishing club on the weekends. Grian finds some peace in these evenings.
● The work goes at a fast pace; there are very few problems with identifying artefacts and deciding where to expand the excavation next. Nobody bothers asking questions anymore.
Pearl stops talking to Scott. Martyn doesn't seem to leave Ren's side. Cleo frowns at them and sticks to teasing Etho and Bdubs.
● The breaking point comes when the weather gets bad. There are several rainy days in a row, and they're forced to mostly stay at the camp and busy themselves with cleaning and cataloging the artefacts. Grian sorts through things that used to belong to some other version of him and decides he can't take it anymore. He wants to leave. As soon as possible, as far as possible. This prompts a heated discussion amongst archeologists, but Cleo gives Grian a knowing look and backs him up, assuring Martyn she'll deal with the paperwork herself when they return at the end of the season (and will personally make sure Grian doesn't get a single penny out of this). Besides, they've been planning on sending Joel to the store anyway.
● Scar is not as nonchalant when he learns about this, — did Grian even plan to tell him?
He's mad, in fact.
Upset and done with playing this silent game with ever-changing rules, he confronts Grian about what's going on; about them and their history (both as they knew it and the one discovered more recently).
(here's a little snippet):
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They fight outside as the rain gets heavier and heavier, and Scar storms off to "check if the site is properly covered", secretly hoping to see a vision of Grian from the past there; he'd be much more pleasant to deal with right now, that's for sure.
Grian doesn't follow.
He returns to the camp alone. Joel tells him there's no way they're driving through the mess that are the forest roads right now, and nobody sees him for the rest of the evening.
● The next day Scar wakes up with a nasty cold. The sun comes out, though. It's getting hot again.
● The worst of the puddles and the mess on the road dry out in a day, and Grian and Joel set out for the trip. They're worried about Scar (Grian feels so, so bad about this) and propose taking him to the hospital, but Cleo gives them a look ("it's a bloody cold, Grian, he's not dying. Although he might, if you try taking him on that hellish roller-coaster with a fever") and waves them off.
Mumbo stays; he's glad to find Scar asleep when he comes to check on him.
● The entire way to the nearest village with a convenience store — the entire gloomy, bleak, mostly off-road way there — Grian contemplates on existence in general and the last several weeks of it in particular. On the concept of soulmates. On what Scar had told him. On assuring himself he's in charge of his own life, and living said life without Scar in it.
Joel curses his car on every bump and tries to pull Grian out of his thoughts. It works, for a while. But when they finally get to the store, all Grian can think about is the pack of pistachios on the shelf and every time Scar said he wanted some this month. About how Scar is wallowing in his tent right now, sick and miserable, in the middle of nowhere. How this is Grian's fault entirely, how he made this choice for both of them, and now runs like a coward.
How unimportant and not right everything seems suddenly, when Scar must be heartbroken and so lonely — bright, kind, handsome and mischievous Scar...
● Joel pays at the checkout and joins Grian at the stairs in front of the store with two cans of beer.
The moment Grian thinks he's about to be lectured, Joel is already starting his "alright, Grian, what's blummin' wrong with you, you stupid arse". So Grian grins into his can and enjoys playing dumb. Because oh, he's got no idea what Joel's talking about, who's going where? He never said he's leaving-leaving, just volunteered to help a friend with groceries, he's nice like that.
When he senses he's about to get punched, possibly in the face, Grian gets up and starts loading Joel's car with grocery bags and boxes (maybe that's what saves him from a bruise after all).
● Joel gets his first flashback when he and Grian are getting out of his jeep late in the evening, talking about families and prospects of Joel settling down and starting one with Lizzie. He's very confused, but his experience is the least traumatizing of them all :'D
● (another snippet):
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And Grian stays, truly. He tries not to run from visions anymore, but searches for Scar's hand every time he feels panic crawl into his chest instead. It's not that he stops contemplating the questions of fate and free will in all of this, as much as he finds it doesn't really matter anyway.
They leave together with half of the group two weeks later, causing several surprised gasps (and a cheerful whistle from Mumbo) when kissing on the site one last time, as a goodbye to it and whatever happened there.
(And what exactly happened there? Nobody knows yet, and nobody will never know for sure. That's history for you, baby >:] )
________________
There you go! Most of this is directly from my notes, so hope it's not too chaotic and maybe even understandable :'D
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neeeooon · 4 months ago
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okay mb i misread the “parents walk in on you” pt 3 as the “find out they have a kid” pt 3 and already wrote half of it so.. here we go !!
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when they find out they have a kid pt 3
ex-husband!bllk x fem!reader. angst, cursing, mentions of sex (no smut), barou and karasu’s kids have a name
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shidou ryusei
-> “mommy, why are you sad?” your three-year-old asked as you stared down at the news article on your phone. your short-lived marriage to shidou had been just that—short. yet some paparazzi still liked to keep tabs on you
-> now, you were staring down at a photo of you holding your daughter while walking her home from a play date. they didn’t blur her face, leaving her large pink eyes on display. the title, “pxg’s shidou’s secret life?!” was printed in bold lettering that left you feeling sick to your stomach
-> you found out you were pregnant after finalizing your divorce, and though you wanted to tell him, your mother convinced you that a child would ruin shidou’s career and his life. that you’d all be better off keeping the child a secret. you hadn’t wanted to believe her, but after following the rather reckless lifestyle in tabloids following your divorce, you gave in and agreed to keep her from him
-> a gentle knock on your apartment door pulls you from breakfast the next morning, and shidou is there with an almost blank expression on his face. his eyes, though, pink like your daughters, shimmer with unshed emotion
-> “y/n, i… i’m not… can we just—“ the word talk dies in his throat when he sees a tiny human peek up at him from the crack between the door and the wall. “oh my god!” you say, stumbling forward as shidou suddenly drops to his knees
-> he sits there, staring at this child that looks remarkable like him. like you. “are you okay?!” your poor, sweet daughter asks as tears start to fall from shidou’s eyes. she runs forward and grabs his face with her tiny hands now that he’s at her height, moving his head around as she looks for injuries
-> “you don’t have any booboos,” her brows furrow in confusion. “why are you sad?” you feel sick with guilt as you watch your daughter give shidou a hug to try and cheer him up. you can see him visibly shaking as he hugs her back, careful not to squeeze too hard and hurt her
-> when your daughter disappears to show her new friend her favorite stuffed animals, shidou turns his gaze to you. “please tell me why you kept this from me? please make it make sense, y/n, because i’m drawing blanks.” he rubs his temples and sighs. “did i hurt you? did you feel unsafe having me around her? why—“ “it was my mother,” you cut him off. “she… convinced me that you’d be better off. i was emotional and confused and she used that against me. i’m so sorry, ryusei.”
bachira meguru
-> were you ever diagnosed with schizophrenia? you texted your ex-husband after four years of silence. you hadn’t wanted to contact him at all, despite ending on decent terms, but your daughter’s daycare kept calling you to complain that she was talking to “monsters” instead of playing with the other children
-> you weren’t expecting him to call, but answered when he did. “hello?” “schizophrenia isn’t contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.” “so you got the diagnosis?” “i’m not schizophrenic!”
-> the phone call had you both laughing like old times, and after catching up for nearly two hours, he mentioned that he’d be in town in a few weeks and asked you to coffee. you said yes, figuring now was a better time than ever to break the news that he was a father
-> sitting in a little restaurant together, after chatting lightly for a while, you finally worked up the courage to tell him. “do you know why i suddenly texted you?” bachira looks confused. “i figured it was a flirting tactic. that, or you’ve been seeing monsters, too.”
-> he was joking, but when you placed a photo of your daughter on the table, he stilled. “i haven’t. but she has.” you watch him visibly swallow as he picks the photo up, hands trembling just slightly. “is this a joke, y/n?” “no. i’m so sorry, bachira.”
-> you can tell by his eyes that he’s distraught, but he still attempts a small smile. “she’s mine?” “she’s yours.” “and she sees monsters?” you nod and say, “just one. her daycare is worried that she won’t make any friends…”
-> “she… isn’t getting picked on by the other kids, is she?” he asks in a wavering voice, and you reach across the table to take his trembling hand in your own. “she’s not. she’s the happiest little girl you could ever meet.” “can i? meet her?” “would you like that?” “more than anything, i think.”
-> your daughter isn’t the least bit hesitant or shy when you introduce bachira to her. all she sees is a new friend, someone her monster approves of, and jumps at his legs. “wanna see my lego bat mobile?! it’s pink and has wings!!” he happily agrees, letting her drag him off to play
barou shouei
-> you knew you had fertility issues when you married barou, and you were completely transparent with him about it. he stayed with you, supporting you through treatments as you tried to start a family. after year five of failure, your marriage was in shambles
-> the divorce papers came after your final attempt at ivf treatment, and since the doctors told you it likely wouldn’t stick, you wished barou the best in getting the family he always wanted and signed
-> when your pregnancy test came back positive two months later (you’d been too scared to take an earlier one), he’d already moved on with a model
-> your son was six when he found out who his father was. “mom, why do you have pictures with that soccer player from italy?” you froze and tried to laugh it off, to tell him barou was just an old friend, but your son was too smart for his own good. upset with the fact that you tried to lie, he reached out to barou himself
-> when you get a text the next day asking if it’s true, if you have his son, you’re devastated. “why would you do that, sakuya?” “you lied to me! everyone else at school had a dad, it’s not fair!”
-> with both demanding to meet, you don’t see any other option but to comply. even worse? the boys hit it off immediately. you didn’t realize how similar sakuya was to shouei until watching them communicate together like this wasn’t their first time meeting
-> “i want to stay here,” was the worst thing your son could ever say to you. though barou assured you that it would just be him at the house, that they’d play soccer and watch movies and order food, you felt like your baby was slipping through your fingers. still, all you wanted was to make him happy
-> with tears in your eyes, you told your ex-husband, “i want hourly updates. i’ll send you a list of everything he likes and doesn’t like, what he can and can’t have, and his favorite movies. this is just a test run, shouei, okay? he’s coming home to me in the morning.” “fine. if that’s what he wants.” “he is a child. he will be back home with me in the morning, or he won’t come back here again.” “… fine.”
kunigami rensuke
-> you got married young, when kunigami was still.. kunigami
-> his career changed him, and you both know it. he knew you weren’t happy anymore, but he was never home for you to talk it out. the longer he was away, the easier it was to stay apart
-> the last time you saw him as your husband, you slept together to see if there was anything left to save your relationship. to show you still loved each other. you got divorced a week later, and not long after that, you found out you were pregnant
-> you were very depressed and had to have your family take care of you throughout your pregnancy. you didn’t want to keep it at first, especially since you had no intention of telling your ex-husband, but everything changed once your son was born
-> you got back on your feet. straightened your life up. took care of yourself so you could take care of him. and you were happy. even after two years, you started dating again and settled down with someone who loved your son as his own
-> when you saw kunigami sitting at your mother’s kitchen table, a framed photograph of you and your three-year-old, you could barely force your lips to form words
-> “so… we have a kid.” “i do, yes.” “that’s not fair. i’m his father—“ “he already has a father, and it’s not you.” kunigami flinched at your words. “y/n—“ “tell me the truth, rensuke. if you’d known i was pregnant after we got divorced, would you have wanted anything to do with him? would you have quit soccer for us?” his silence is all the answer you need
karasu tabito
-> “get out! i never want to see you again!” were the last words you said to your husband when you saw photos of him kissing someone else on your phone. he tried to explain that it was a misunderstanding, but you weren’t having any of it. you didn’t know at the time that your hormones were extremely skewed, but it wouldn’t have mattered
-> when your son was born, you dedicated your life to him. you raised him on your own with only the help of a few friends. you wanted nothing to do with your ex because you knew, if given the opportunity, he would find a way back into your heart and your bed
-> as your son grew older, part of you regretted keeping him from having a father figure, but you convinced yourself that it was for the best
-> when he told you that his elementary school was having professional athletes visit, you thought nothing of it, given how excited he was. plus, you knew your ex-husband played for france, so there was no way he’d ever visit your son’s school… until you got the email from the school announcing which players would visit
-> by the time you called to pull your boy out of class, it was too late. you sped into an available parking spot and rushed to the front, only to find your five-year-old sitting on a little bench, legs swinging, as he chatted karasu’s ear off about a book you’d read to him
-> “taichi! what have i told you about talking to strangers?” you quietly but firmly scolded as you scooped your son’s hand up in yours. “but mama, he’s famous! and he says you used to hold hands! he even showed me photos!” “never go with anyone unless i tell you, okay?” “okay..”
-> “he’s a smart kid,” karasu commented from the bench, and you shot him a glare before tightening your grip on your son’s hand. “yes, he is.” “does he know who i am?” “we’re not doing this. not here.” “i think now’s a better time than ever, y/n.”
-> with grit teeth, you kneel down to taichi’s height and give his shoulder’s a gentle squeeze. “baby, remember what i told you about your dad?” taichi’s eyes lit up. “that he’s not home because he’s doing great things across the world!” “well…” you shoot karasu a seething glare, and he steps forward to ruffle your son’s hair. “hey, kid.”
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pt 1 // pt 2
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pittrabbit · 3 months ago
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warning: angst, fluff, resolution of feelings yay, kissing, a lot of smut, p in v sex, not proofread!!!!, age gap (think 28 and 49), horribly incorrect medical terminology, made up lore about jack's former wife.
summary: after finally snapping at jack, he does something he'd never done before: he grovels. finally allowing himself to let someone in, he chases after you in hopes of doing things right this time around.
word count: 4.3k
part 1
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only a few days passed after that last, unfortunate, encounter with you before another harsh day made its way to the ER.
jack couldnt help but worry about you on the harder days at the job. you'd gotten to know each other well enough for you to know each other's coping mechanisms. you knew about his therapy, about his habit of coming in to work when sleep couldn't find him. and in turn, he knew of your loneliness, of your inability to decompartmentalize your emotions after a particularly difficult shift.
this worried him as soon as a massive casualty hit the ER. it had been a car crash. a blunder involving a drunk driver and a truck packed with a family of six. only one survivor — a six year old little girl. it had taken the entire day, with tireless attempts at saving the family, at saving the drunk driver and his passenger, but it was all futile.
you worked along each other, ignoring any issues between you as you attempted to save a young 12 year old boy with head trauma. it was grueling, an impossible case to deal with. and it all proved useless, resulting in the outcome jack saw coming within an hour of working the case. but he continued upon your insistence, realizing you were crashing out and wanting to be there to catch you.
after it was all said and done, he trailed after you, watching from afar just in case. he wanted to ensure you were fine, even if it was from a distance.
it was a selfish need, but he seemingly couldn't help his selfishness when it came to you.
it was surprising to him when you accepted princess' invitation to join the crew in some after-work drinks at the park. it meant he no longer had to keep his distance. it meant he could at least save himself from worrying about your mental state as you went home alone, that he could make sure you could decompress before heading home.
and so now he sat there, beer in hand as he actively avoided looking your way.
he didn't want to be obvious, didn't want to make you uncomfortable or like he kept you under close watch. he had already been scared that you'd leave as soon as you realized he was tagging along. so he wanted to keep his distance, or to at least make you think that he was.
one by one, people began leaving, all while you stood there, mostly quietly nodding along to people's jokes and commentary about the hard day.
in the end, it was only you, jack, robby, and collins left. the more people that left, the harder it was for jack to not zero in on you, to not want to go up to you and grovel, to take the chance that you were finally in his vicinity to make things up with you.
robby — a smart man — and collins — an even smarter woman — took his silent pleas into consideration, eyeing each other before getting up from the bench they were sharing with jack. collins went to give you a quick hug as a goodbye, insisting you take her seat on the bench. knowing you'd hesitate, she guided you despite your lighthearted objections.
robby was the last to say goodbye, offering his friend a subtle nod in encouragement before leaving you on your own.
the silence was heavy, creating warmth in the otherwise chilly atmosphere of the park.
jack remained silent for a few moments, still facing forward as he sipped at his beer.
"kid," he broke the silence, giving you space to speak.
"can we ... can we not talk? i just, i don't know if i can handle talking to you right now," your voice was broken as you said it.
it made jack's heart clench, in pain at the fact that today's events weren't the only reason why you were hurting. it was because of him too.
his body turned to yours on the bench, finding you shelled off, shrinking into yourself as your legs pressed together and you looked down at your lap. it took him a moment to realize you were crying, small sniffles leaving you before a sob escaped your lips.
"fuck, kid ... c'mere," he grabbed his leg off the bench, scooting to your side and wrapping his arm around you.
surprisingly to him, you leaned in, allowing yourself to nuzzle into his chest while he pressed kisses against your hair, humming in a comforting manner as he remained pressed into your hair.
"i- i don't-"
"you don't gotta say anything. just stay here," he reassured, "i'm here, kid. i'm always here."
you stayed silent for a beat or two, "are you, jack? because it really hasn't felt like it lately," you pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes, finding them glassy just like yours.
his gaze averted, swallowing as he attempted not to let the shame show in his features. thing was, you had a point. jack was very well aware of how hot and cold he'd been with you, how little explanation he'd given you for it.
and though he'd been trying to make up for it, he had felt too ashamed to even try and be assertive about it all. communication, something he valued incredibly (specially after all those visits to his therapist), had failed him any time he tried to let himself get closer to you. he felt like a hypocrite telling robby all about therapy and letting himself be vulnerable, all while he did anything but.
truth was, it had been a very long time since he'd felt like this. it had been twelve years since the passing of his wife, an event that had altered his life beyond belief. it had only been a year since he'd stopped wearing the ring to work, advice given with some hesitation by both his therapist and robby. something about needing to move on, to stop being stuck in the past.
it didn't prove useful for a while. it certainly opened up doors for women flirting with him any time he found himself at a bar or outing with his coworkers, but he never really engaged with it, not feeling quite ready for it.
but then he met you.
the effect of meeting you had been almost immediate, he just hadn't realized it until later. and it was this realization that led to him ruining everything.
he cared about you far too much far too quickly. when he finally came to realize it, he knew he was in too deep and completely unprepared for his feelings. attempting to bring it up during therapy had been futile, as he had already made up his mind to let you go, to keep you at an arm's length even if it ended up hurting you both in the process.
you were too young, too new, too polished — and that was completely ignoring the fact that you were his subordinate. being with him would mean dirtying you up with all his issues, forcing all of his trauma on you, showing you the ugly parts of himself that had not seen the surface since his wife had passed. and even then, he'd only gotten worse with time, even more closed off. even his wife wouldnt have been able to handle the dark cloud constantly hanging over his head.
he kept it hidden. he told jokes, encouraged students, was there for his friends, but beneath the surface was too much for him to unravel in front of you.
but pushing you away clearly hadn't been the solution.
because now he found himself even more miserable than before. and even worse, he found you destroyed by his actions, crying as he held on to you late at night on a public park.
"i'm here, kid. i'm always here, you know that," he finally answered your question, pulling you even closer, perhaps more for his own sanity than yours.
you continued looking at him, a knot in your brows and a pouty lip sticking out, giving him the look of a petulant child.
"you can't do this, jack," you shook your head, correcting yourself, "i mean, doctor abbot. sorry, force of habit."
he shook his head slowly in return, lifting up a hand to your cheek and making you turn to him, "hey, it's jack to you, okay? none of that formality bullshit."
you scoffed, "how- how am i supposed to read you, jack? how do i know when you're doctor abbot to me or when you're jack? i'm ... i'm so tired of this. i don't think i can do this anymore," you paused, scooting back slightly so you could look at him better. you swallowed and looked away for a brief moment, as if you needed to build up the courage for what you were going to say next, "i applied at a hospital next town over to continue my rotation there. they, uhm, they called me yesterday. i just need to sign the papers and then-"
"what?"
he turned serious, harshly grabbing his prosthetic off the floor and putting it on before standing up with conviction. chuckling with bitterness, he ran his hand down his face, turning to you as he paced in front of the bench you'd been sitting on.
"you're, what, you're leaving? its- it's that easy for you?"
then you turned serious, anger invading your features before you got up and stood in front of him, chin tilted upwards as you spoke.
"easy? you think this shit is easy for me? i've been here for almost a year. i love everyone here, but you- god, you're driving me fucking insane. what do you even want from me?," you ranted, hands flying up and down as you spoke with conviction, "first you teach me, you take me under your wing, you treat me as your favorite, and you- you make me think that maybe you might even like me" you paused, looking away for a second with insecurity behind your eyes, "but you were too much of a coward to admit it to yourself and decide to shun me instead? you push me away, refuse to teach me, fuck, you acted like you hated me — no, but here's the kicker! when i do the same in return, that's when you decide to switch it back up on me? what am i supposed to do with that, jack? i can't deal with this anymore, i can't-"
jack had heard enough. truly, he had heard enough five seconds into your rant, but he'd never seen you speak with such emotion. he knew you needed this, to get all your anger for him out of your system so you could complete the cycle of emotions you were going through because of him.
it was just that he needed to get something out of his system too.
taking two determined steps towards you, his hands went up to your cheeks, engulfing almost the entirety of your face in between them before pulling you towards him.
kissing you had been the most decisive thing he'd done since meeting you. no overthinking, no faltering, just doing what he'd been too ashamed of even picturing for the past months in which he'd known you.
the kiss turned intense almost immediately, invading his every sense as he coaxed your lips open with his tongue before slipping it inside. you sighed, finally allowing him to feel your hands on him when you brought them up tot he back of his head, toying and pulling at his hair any time he'd suck on your tongue.
the sounds you released against his lips had him breathing in deep, almost as if buffering at the effect you had on him. his hands came down to your lower back, pulling you against his body, ensuring no space would be left between you.
admittedly, jack was not expecting you to pull away within mere moments of what he would've called a life-changing kiss. his lips chased yours for a few seconds before realizing what was happening, opening his eyes to find your eyes on his.
"n-no, jack! i can't do this, i can't just- i need something better than this. i deserve better," you reprimanded, but you didn't pull away. you stayed in his hold, with your hands now lying on his chest.
jack took a deep breath, giving himself a moment to enjoy the light breeze around you before zeroing in on your eyes. it was imperative to him to always look you in the eyes, to have his entire focus on you as he spoke to you.
"you're right. you deserve better," his hands went up and down your back in a comforting manner, "and i'll give you better. i'll give you anything you want."
"how am i supposed to believe that?"
you looked away, staring down at your feet due to the intensity of his gaze, but he wasn't having it. his hand went up to your chin, encompassing it between his thumb and his index finger as he lifted up your chin so you'd face him again.
"hey- hey, eyes on me. i- i cant explain what i feel for you, okay? i've been a fucking idiot, and i know i don't deserve another chance, but i do care about you. more than i can even understand," he began, not once leaving your eyes, "i did this all wrong. i didn't want you wasting your life with an old man like me, with someone who doesn't even know how to love anymore," his hand went up to trace your cheek with his thumb, "but i was wrong. and if you let me, i'll prove it all to you. what do you say, kid? will you give me another chance?", he practically pleaded, taking a deep breath before speaking again, "i love you, kid. i need you to at least know that."
you stayed silent for a few moments, scaring the fuck out of jack as you did so, but then you looked back up to him with a smile.
"you know, if we're gonna do this, maybe it's time you stop calling me kid, you old man," you nodded at him.
in disbelief, he laughed, shaking his head at you, "yeah? that's all you got out of this?," he laughed unlike he usually did, with jubilation that was unfamiliar to him, "hmm, how about 'baby,' then? huh? or 'honey'? 'sweetheart'? you gotta give me ideas here, kid. i don't know what the youth's saying nowadays."
laughing along with him, you nudged him in faux annoyance, "stop talking like that, you're not 70!"
he interrupted your teasing by burying his face in your neck, kissing it lightly a few times before reaching your lips, shutting up your laughter with his tongue in your mouth.
you fell into the kiss easily, moaning into his mouth when he deepened it and pulling him closer by twisting your fingers in his hair.
"hmm," you hummed when you pulled away, "i love you too, by the way. in case that wasn't completely obvious by now."
"i think i might need some proof, kid," he teased.
rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "again with the kid-"
but he interrupted you again with another kiss, this time heavier, this time more lustful. his hands traced your jaw, holding it in place so he could explore your mouth as he pleased.
your reaction to his touch, to his kiss, were nothing but euphoric to jack. you melted into him, humming and sighing at every swipe of his tongue against yours. jack pulled you closer by your hips, causing an incidental grace of your hips with one another. this pulled a groan from jack, who was already beginning to harden and knew he was a gone man upon the very first touch of lips.
"kid, i-"
"take me home, jack," you sighed, eyes closed and lips scraping by his own, not allowing him an answer before your tongue snuck out and licked at his top lip, sucking it lightly afterwards.
jack lost his sanity then, but he was fortunately well trained for such moments. he had a soldier's ability to remain stoic whenever necessary.
but the military didn't train him for how to deal with you.
so he caved.
"are you sure?", he tried to keep his composure, to think reasonably for the two of you.
your lips went south, reaching his jaw and then his neck as you kissed and sucked at it, moaning into his skin as if you were the receiver of the pleasure.
"please, jack," you reached his ear then, teeth scrapping his lobe, "i've been waiting for so long."
for the first time in more years than he could count, jack shuddered, a heavy exhale leaving him at your tongue suddenly licking at the shell of his ear. his hands gripped your hips, pushing you up against the hardness between you as he groaned.
"you want to kill me," he huffed, giving in.
"take me home so i can finish the job," you continued, relentless in ruining him.
he nodded, breathless, utilizing herculean effort to separate himself from you and grabbing your hand, leading you in the direction of his car parked a couple blocks away.
once in the car, you didn't want to keep your hands off him, pulling him in for another kiss before he could even fasten his seatbelt.
"you're going to make us end back at the ER, honey," he grumbled between kisses, hand on your wrist as you pulled his head towards you.
"fine, i'll calm down," you sighed dramatically as you pulled away (much to jack's hypocritical dismay)
౨ৎ
"you know, i always pegged you as someone a someone a little more shy," jack attempted to speak as you pushed him up against the wall of his apartment.
"yeah? you feel i'm taking advantage of you, doc?", you jested back, a cheshire cat smile on your slips as you had your way with him.
jack's hands remained on your waist, pulling you close while you peppered kisses down the length of his neck. they reached under your scrub top, feeling the warm skin at the dip of your back, groaning at the softness found there.
"take as much advantage as you want," he hummed after a few moments of silence, just taking in every touch you blessed him with.
your mouth creeped north reaching his ear, hands now under his shirt and tracing at the skin of his abdomen. breathing against his ear, you kissed it, whispering into it, "but what if i want you to take advantage of me?"
"fuck, kid ... you're going to kill me," but despite his words, his hands wrapped around you, nudging you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.
it was a bit of a messy trek, but you made it to his bed in one piece, being settled down on it with gentleness. refusing to let jack get too far from you, your legs remained around him as he threw off his shirt, hastening in removing his prosthetic, shoes, pants, and leaving only his boxers on. he watched you intensely as he undressed, all while you made sex eyes at him, biting your lip and swallowing at every new sliver of skin uncovered.
"you look like you want to eat me," he chuckled, climbing the bed and kneeling on top of you, using his hands to lift himself up above you.
"there's a lot of things i want to do to you," you sighed back, lifting your head so you could steal a kiss, pulling him down by grabbing the back of his neck.
desperate for more, your legs fully wrapped around his back, pulling him down so your middles could connect. this earned a groan directly into your mouth along with a whine of your own. luckily jack took the hint, beginning to gyrate his hips against your own, giving you the desired friction despite your scrub pants and his boxers being in the way.
"oh, god, jack ..." you sighed, mouth open and allowing jack access to suck your tongue.
your hands became antsy, scratching at his back in anguish at the pressure you were craving in your stomach. meanwhile, his own hands slipped under your shirt once more, hesitant in pulling it up before you aided him in the act, lifting yourself up a bit in order to throw it off.
under it, he found a lacy bra, baby pink and contrasting against your skin perfectly. it was comfy, not too much, but it had a cute little bow in the middle, giving jack whiplash as he stared down at you dumbfounded.
"fuck, kid," he shook his head in disbelief, "i dont know if i can handle you," his lips lowered, kissing at your collarbones, dragging his kisses to your sternum and ending up at the top of your breasts.
"what, old man, you're gonna tell me you're out of practice?", you teased as you reached behind you to pull your bra off, making jack freeze against your chest for a second before allowing himself to look at your nude upper half.
"you're a fucking dream, kid," he huffed, voice in a complete state of incredulity. he then leaned down again, kissing at your breasts, licking and biting and sucking, taking in every moan that left your lips while his hips took on a slow and steady pace as they ground into yours, "don't even know where to start with you."
"just fuck me," you cried, pulling his head back up to your lips, "i want you so bad, jack."
he groaned at this, but even more so when he felt your hand reach down to his boxers, one hand slipping inside and gripping his dick while the other scratched at the hem, pulling down the fabric.
"you sure, baby?" he had to check one last time, though he knew he wouldnt be able to take it if you made him stop now. he had never felt this needy, like he'd die if he didnt get more of you.
you nodded with desperation, furrowed brows and pleading eyes staring up at him in a ruinous manner.
shuffling so you could remove your scrub pants and panties from under him, you finally ended up fully nude and ready, gasping when you felt his fingers run through the wetness between your legs.
jack grabbed at himself, positioning his dick right against your cunt and finally pushing in with a heavy grown.
dropping his head against your neck, he took a deep breath, groaning at the feeling of finally entering you.
"jack ... fuck, jack, you feel so good," you were delirious as you said it, nails already running down his back.
in the meantime, jack was in heaven. he hadnt felt so lightheaded in years. your mere touch already had his heart going a mile a minute and his brain turning off, but the feeling of you like this — warm, wet, welcoming — made every bit of misery in his life become worth it.
"fucking perfect ... that's it, baby, take it for me," he began moving, hips creating that slamming sound of skin that he'd grown so unfamiliar with.
the man above you lost himself in the pleasure, grunting in tandem with every thrust and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, breathing in the natural scent of your skin.
and even though the pleasure was unimaginable, jack simply wanted more, wanted to have you louder, more broken for him. he'd always been a bit of an overachiever, after all.
softly, he pulled out, shushing you when you whined at the separation and getting you on your hands and knees. his hands massaged the skin of your hips, dipping your back lower so you'd arch it even more for him and groaning at the sight.
"look at you ..." he mumbled almost to himself.
then he entered you again, now deeper, heavier, adding more pressure to your belly and making you immediately wail at the feeling. that's when jack truly lost himself. completely drunk on the feeling, jack hammered into you, huffing and puffing at the overexertion of energy he was currently displaying.
"i'm gonna cum, jack, shit ..." you said with an uncharted desperation, only making jack speed up, knowing that the moment you came, he was gone.
and he'd been right. as soon as your climax took over you, you pulled him right down with you, forcing him to spill inside you without the ability to even warn you. you'd taken him by surprise as per usual.
there were, once more, complaints from you when he finally pulled out of you, leaving the warmth of your skin to clean himself up and wipe up any of his remains that spilled out of you. he just tutted at you, but still hurried himself up so he could finally lay down with you, have that intimacy he'd craved from you since day one.
side by side, jack felt offended by any amount of distance, pulling you as close as possible while his hands traced at the curve of your hips, grabbing your leg and throwing him over his waist so any distance would be eliminated. your hands played with his chest, fingers tracing figures at the expanse of it while you smiled shyly at him.
"how you feeling, gorgeous?"
you muffled a giggle by pressing your face into his chest, kissing the skin once, twice, before leaning up for a kiss on his lips.
"better than i've felt in a very long time. how about you, old man?", you hummed into his lips.
"never felt better."
"you just had to one-up me, didn't you?" you scowled falsely at him.
he tsk'd at you in fake annoyance, a very common display from him, "gotta keep you on your toes, kid."
note: did not know how to end it lol and its also not proofread but i hope you enjoy anyways!
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marauder-misprint · 4 months ago
Text
Mystery Girl
Sirius Black x fem!Gryffindor!reader
5.7k words
cw: pining, bad flirting advice, fluff
You allow yourself to gaze in his direction for longer than usual. Your head is propped up on your hand, elbow resting on your desk, as you tap the tip of your quill to your lip in faux-thought. Professor Flitwick had announced the rest of class was to be used to work on the essay he assigned last class. Yours is about half done. You really should be thinking about what to write next, or looking up more information in your textbook. But, alas, you stare at Sirius with no real thoughts in your head. If anyone asked though, you would say it was just his general direction. 
Sirius isn’t even pretending to work. He’s having a full fledged whispered conversation with James, occasionally leaning forward to include Peter and Remus, the latter of which is attempting to finish his essay. You’re a bit surprised that Remus hasn’t finished it already, but with friends like Sirius, James and Peter, getting work done can be a challenge. 
Every once in a while, Sirius looks in your direction and flashes you his impish grin. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. You’re close friends; you’re one of the few that knows he’s an animagus. A few too many drinks one night got you that information. He recapped the whole process for you that night, which left you wondering how he managed to go through it all without mentioning it to you. The more you thought about it afterwards, the more you realized that his letters that summer were particularly odd. 
You became friends with Sirius during second year when you shared a detention with McGonagall. She had you scraping gum off the bottom of desks while Sirius was sweeping ash off the floor and then mopping and polishing. It was a long and grueling evening for two 12-year-olds. Through complaining and cracking jokes, you managed to survive and a friendship was fostered. It certainly helped that you continued to get assigned detention together over the years. 
Somewhere between here and there, you realized that you wanted more than friendship from Sirius, but with him being who he is, you had no way of knowing if your feelings were reciprocated. You buried them as deep as you could. You didn’t want any of your friends, especially the mutual ones with Sirius, to know that you had a crush on him. You’d rather live in the pain of watching him flirt with girl after girl that wasn’t you but have him as a dear friend than live in that same world except have him reject you and never speak to you again. 
His wild grin brings you out of your thoughts. He raises his eyebrows as you shiver violently. You look down at your essay, not giving Sirius any attention. You figure he’ll assume you were zoned out, which you were to a point. You don’t let your graze fall back on him for the rest of class, allowing you to miss how he looked back at you several times. 
Sirius catches up with you when Flitwick dismisses everyone. Not having worked on his essay, putting his stuff away had only taken him a moment while you carefully place your things into your bag. 
“Must’ve had some train of thought going,” he muses, leaning on your desk slightly.
 “What do you mean?” you ask, not looking up.
“Could’ve sworn you were staring right at me. I acknowledge you and nothing!”
You hum. “Then, yeah, I suppose. I was trying to make some progress.”
“And did you?” he asks as you leave the classroom and walk together to your next class.
“Not much,” you sigh. “Added a paragraph but it’s still too short. Can’t even bewitch my handwriting to be larger to make it close enough.” 
“We can work on it later. I have…” His voice trails off as he looks at the parchment hastily shoved into his Charms’ book. “Half of an introduction.”
You laugh as you gently bump into Sirius. You are mildly surprised that he even had that much done, but once he sits down and actually works on it, Sirius will finish his much faster than you ever could. At least he was offering to work on it with you. That meant you could ask him to look over yours when you finally finished. 
---
The common room empties out slowly as students head to bed. You’ve been sitting on the couch since dinner with your History of Magic textbook laying in your lap, open yet unread. Your eyes are unfocused, staring at the dancing flames in the hearth. Every once in a while you pick up sentences from your friends sitting around you. It’s nothing too exciting. The boys are discussing the intricate details for their next pranks on the Slytherins; the girls making plans for the next Hogsmeade weekend. And you were supposed to be catching up on the assigned reading.
It isn’t until Sirius falls dramatically into your lap that you tear your eyes away from the fire to see that everyone else has gone to bed. His dark hair splays across your book as he looks up at you with his stormy grey eyes.
“Did you finish the chapter?” he asks with a lazy smile. “Or were you seeking divine intervention from the fire?” 
“Divine intervention,” you reply, lifting his head ever so gently so you could remove your book, close it and set it aside. “The creation of the Being Division in the 1800s by some bloke Stumpy? End me now.” 
Sirius chuckles. 
“I’m glad Binns didn’t assign an essay on it. Imagine!” he says, making you smile. “There’s that smile. It’s not like it’ll be on an exam or anything.”
“Sirius, you know it will.” 
“And you can look at my paper. Or James’. Remus. Peter, wait… maybe not Peter. But Lily and Marlene would be okay.”
“And that’s cheating. It’s one thing on essays, but exams are another.” 
“Fine, study. Put in more effort than you need to.”
You ruffle his hair in response, earning you a noise of complaint from Sirius. You are allowed to play with his hair when it involves running your fingers through it or braiding it. Ruffling it and making it messy? Treason.
“Can I… talk to you about something?” Sirius asks as he adjusts in your lap. 
“I don’t know… Talking? Us? I don’t think we’ve ever done that before!” you tease sarcastically. 
“No, really, love. I need your opinion on something.” 
There is something more earnest in his voice that tells you it’s serious. You know he debated saying that it is but knew you would laugh and say that everything is Sirius with him. It was a dumb joke that you couldn’t get enough of. 
You nod somberly.
“Yeah, Sirius. We can talk about anything.” 
“So… there’s this girl.”
That one sentence is a punch to your gut. He wants to talk to you about a girl? While past girlfriends have come up in conversations before, it was always a fleeting topic, or they were key players in a story, like dates gone wrong. You thought it was understood that your friendship with Sirius avoided each other’s love lives - not that you ever had a boy to talk about with him.
“O-okay,” you manage to say. 
“I really like her. I just… I can’t tell if she likes me and the boys are no help.”
“So you’ve come to me because I’m oh-so-experienced in love?” 
“I came to you because you’re a girl. How do girls show that they’re interested when they aren’t obviously flirting?” 
You poke his cheek as you say, “Used to the obvious flirting, aren’t you?” 
He grins up at you. “Obviously.”
“Well, from what I know, they lean in when you talk, laughing at any and every stupid joke you make. When they touch you, they let their hand linger, especially if it’s on your hand or arm.” You demonstrate your point by touching his bicep and giving it a gentle squeeze. “A little more brazen, they’ll compliment you subtly. You should be able to see it in their smile. Maybe they’ll flutter their eyelashes at you if they are bold. Or desperate. They’ll also jump to your side if you’re alone.” You sigh. “Again, you know I’m too experienced with this flirting thing so…”
“Yeah, but you must’ve flirted with guys before. You’re no hermit.”
You exhale out of your nose. “I don’t flirt much.”
“Much! So you do! Your expertise shan’t be taken for granted!” 
Your expertise. Sirius really has you on a pedestal. You sit with him for a while longer, running your fingers through his hair to make up for your earlier ruffling. He closes his eyes as he enjoys the feeling. 
Over the next few days, you make a point to not do any of the things you listed off as flirting. You only lean forward when he talks at meals so you can have the excuse of needing to be able to hear him better. You rarely find yourself in a position to have your hand on his so that wasn’t an issue. You aren’t one to bat your eyelashes or stroke his ego. Your two vices are laughing and being at his side, but he’s your best friend. Could you really be expected to not spend time with him and enjoy yourself when you are with him? You think you’ve played it off fairly well.
Sirius thinks you’ve given him faulty advice. He is hyper aware of every interaction he has with this girl. He’s overanalyzing every move she moves around him, and every move he makes. What’s even more frustrating to him is that some of the things you listed off, he can’t imagine her doing. It’s just not who she is. 
He decides to bring it up again to you in the Transfiguration Courtyard after classes. James and Marlene are tossing a quaffle back and forth while Lily, Mary, Remus and Peter work on various assignments. You and Sirius are sharing a pack of cigarettes off to the side at Mary’s request. She claims she can’t focus when there’s a cloud of smoke around her head. There’s enough space between you and the rest of the group which gives Sirius the privacy he requires for this topic.
“You know that girl I was telling you about?” he asks you.
“The one you’re so in love with?” 
“Yeah, that’d be the one.”
“Then, yes, I know of her. You never told me who it is though.” 
“That’s not important right now,” he says, running a hand through his hair before immediately shaking it out. “She’s not doing any of those non-obvious flirting things you said.”
“She’s not?” you echo with your eyebrows raised. What girl could resist the temptations of Sirius? 
“She’s not. But now I’m wondering if I’m the problem?” 
You laugh loudly. Sirius’ firm gaze and stoney expression tell you he’s not messing around like you assumed he would be. 
“Tell me how you, you, could be the problem?”
“Like I told you before, I really like this girl. I do. She’s amazing, a real sweetheart, and I don’t want to mess it up before it’s gone anywhere. So I haven’t flirted with her the same way I’ve flirted with other girls.”
“Damn, Black. You must really like this girl.”
“I do. So much.” He takes a breath and leans in a hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong though. I know she wouldn’t like my usual flirting. She doesn’t respond to the new method. How do I get this girl’s attention?” 
You sigh and shake your head.
“It’d be easier to help you if I knew who it was,” you tell him. 
“Yeah, I know that, but I… I can’t tell you.”
“Sirius-” you chastise. 
“Love, I can’t tell you.”
“Have you asked the boys how to flirt with this mystery girl?”
“Sirius Black, master flirt, is not going to those virgins for help.”
You bite inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all: Sirius calling himself a master flirt, knowing damn well that James and Remus weren’t virgins, and that Sirius was willing to come to you, an actual virgin, for help. 
“So what do I do?” 
You can’t hold back your laughter any more. It breaks through. You expect Sirius to look upset at your laughing but instead he’s smiling at you. 
“I’m not trying to be mean, Sirius, but you do know who you’re talking to, right? A girl who’s never been flirted with? And you’re turning down asking Potter, king of pining, for advice? Like I’m one hundred percent sure that Lily knows he likes her.” 
You glance toward James and then Lily. You missed the flash of disappointment that crosses Sirius’ face when you say you’ve never been flirted with. He knows for a fact it isn’t true, but it wouldn’t help his cause now to tell you otherwise.
“I’m talking to my best friend who I think is more perceptive than she realizes,” he states. “Humor me: how would you like to be flirted with?”
How would you like to be flirted with? The question repeats in your mind as you think. Sirius can practically see the gears turning in your head. He waits patiently for your answer. It has the potential to change everything for him.
“I… I want genuine compliments. I want to be told that I’m pretty but also that I’m enough and to hear what they like about me, you know, beyond looks. I want them to choose to spend time with me. I want them to do all that chivalrous, gentleman-y things like carrying my books and holding doors,” you list off. As you continue your ramble, your face grows hot. “I sound like a spoiled child,” you laugh. “I want, I want, I want.” 
Sirius smiles at you with an adoring look in his eyes. 
“Maybe so, but I did ask you what you wanted.” He tucks a bit of hair behind your ear. “So no big, grand gestures for you? I’ll make sure to tell all your suitors.”
You roll your eyes as you’re fairly certain there are no potential suitors for him to tell. 
“I don’t know how you’ve been flirting with this mystery girl if it hasn’t been your usual tactics, but the little things really do add up.”
“Would you believe me if I told you that I went from one extreme to the other?”
“Why, yes, yes I would,” you smirk. 
“Oi! Looks like rain, we’re going in!” Lily yells in your direction. 
Sirius stands up first and holds out his hand to help you up. 
Throughout the rest of the week, it’s like a switch flipped in Sirius. He’s more attached to you than normal. He’s always there to hold open a door for you, to offer to carry your books or put your supplies away. He starts using pet names with you more. You find it all a bit peculiar. He was spending so much energy on you rather than trying to win over his mystery girl. You try not to think too hard on it. 
When the weekend came, your whole friend group made their way to the quidditch pitch. It was nice when Gryffindor wasn’t playing so James and Marlene could jeer at the players, complain about calls and plays and explain moves to everyone. They bring a higher energy to the stands. But you couldn’t focus on their comments too much. Sirius is pressed into your side with how packed the Gryffindor section is. To make it more comfortable, he draped his arm loosely over your shoulder. His cologne overtakes the rest of the smells that accompany the stands. You’re not complaining about that, but it did make it hard to think about anything else. Again, you try not think too hard about Sirius’ mystery girl, or the fact that your body is much closer to Sirius’ than Lily’s, who was on your other side. 
After Ravenclaw beats Hufflepuff, you claim a table for yourself in the common room. You have an essay for Transfiguration to finish. Lily and Marlene had fretted earlier about your insistence on getting it done today when you had all of tomorrow to work on it and there was a party tonight. They certainly didn’t like you pointing out that it was Ravenclaw’s party so your presence wouldn’t be missed and you had more homework to do tomorrow. Merlin forbid school didn’t come easy to you. 
When they accepted that you were a lost cause for the night, they grabbed Mary and left. You are able to work in peace for a little over half an hour. Then the Marauders traipsed down the stairs. Their sheer presence sends energy pulsing through the room. You briefly look up as they pass your table. Sirius spins around after passing you and walks up to you, slamming his hands on the table.
“Why aren’t you at the party?” he demands. “Pretty girls belong at parties.” 
You feel your cheeks warm. You drag the feather end of your quill over the pages of the open book and essay in front of you.
“These essays. They never seem to write themselves.”
“So you’re just not going to the party?” 
“Padfoot! Come on,” James calls.
“Love?” Sirius asks, ignoring his friends. 
You sigh and look up at him. He’s looking at you so ardently. 
“Not until I finish this essay. So I’ll either be extremely late or I won’t go,” you answer him. 
He pulls out the chair across from you.
“Head over without me! We’ll catch up later,” he yells over his shoulder as he sits down.
Then he grabs your essay, scanning it to see how far along you are.
“Sirius, go to the party,” you tell him, reaching for your essay but he holds it out of your reach. “Your mystery girl is probably there. You could be making your move. My essay will get done.”
“Mystery girl will be there whenever I get there. However, your essay is more important than any party, and I don’t want to go if you’re not there.” He flashes you his wide grin. “How can you expect me to have fun when I know you’re back here, suffering?”
You sigh and lean back in your chair. With you no longer reaching for your essay, Sirius is able to finish reading it over. He hands it back to you and grabs your book. He flips a few pages before placing it back in front of you and pointing to a second you hadn’t looked at yet.
“You’re closer to finishing that essay than you think, love. You really just need a summary of that section and a conclusion. Then it’s upstairs to change and party time!” 
“Thanks, Sirius.” 
You lean over the desk to read the section he pointed out. After a few minutes, you glance up at him. He’s been watching you read and make notes. 
“You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll find you at the party when I’m done,” you say, although you have half a mind to crawl into bed when you’re done. Especially if Sirius’ mystery girl is at this party, you’re not sure if you have it in you to watch him flirt with her, a girl he seems to be in love with. 
“Please, don’t act like I don’t know you. If I leave now without you, you won’t go. You’ll finish the essay and then you’ll hide here. Nope. You’re going to have fun tonight if I have anything to do with it.”
“Fine…” you mumble, turning back to the book to reread the last paragraph. 
Another half an hour or so passes until you’re semi-satisfied with your essay. You set your quill down as you reread the entire thing, a frown appearing on your face. It’s not nearly as good as you want it to be. You should probably rewrite it.
“Ah, give it here,” Sirius says, holding his hand out expectantly. 
“It’s no good,” you reply, shaking your head. “I need to rewrite it.”
“Let me read it. I’m sure it’s fine.” He tilts his head while giving you a firm look. “Go change. I’ll read it while you’re gone. If it’s as bad as you think it is, we’ll work on it more. If you’re being hard on yourself, we’ll get you a drink to help you unwind.”
You sigh dramatically. You leave the essay on the desk for Sirius to grab, instead of handing to him. You trudge up the stairs to your dorm to change into something more party-like. Your indecisiveness means that you try on several outfits before finding something that you don’t hate. You don’t want to look like too much, too good. If you’re going to try to help Sirius get this mystery girl, you couldn’t be outshining her. 
When you return to the common room, Sirius has cleaned up all of your things into neat piles. 
“Oh, you look lovely!” he declares when he notices that you’re back. “And your essay, easily an E. Trust me. We ensure that Pete gets at least an A on every essay and that was better than what he’s turning in.” 
You roll your eyes at the ‘we’. You knew the Marauders often treated homework as group assignments. He holds out his arm for you to take, which you do with some hesitation. 
“Shall we go find your girl at this party?” you ask.
“We shall,” he says with a smile as he leads you out of the Gryffindor Common Room and toward Ravenclaw Tower. 
Once past the eagle knocker, Sirius is quick to get a drink in both his and your hands. You scan the room, seeing the rest of the Marauders and your other friends. You aren’t looking for them though. You’re trying to see if you can spot the girl who is so beautiful and desirable that Sirius would switch up his methods to diminish the risk of losing her. 
“Let’s find your girl,” you say, leaning into Sirius’ shoulder. 
He doesn’t say anything, but he guides you around the room. You pause to say hi to some of your friends in Ravenclaw. You expect Sirius to keep walking in search of the girl. He doesn’t. He remains at your shoulder, giving friendly smiles to the people you’re talking to. You lead him toward where the other Gryffindors are gathered. 
“Black!” Marlene yells as she grabs him by his shoulders. “Thank you for getting her out!” 
You’re taken aback by her comment, although it wasn’t uncommon for you to miss a party. You often found yourself reminding your friends that Hogwarts was in fact a school and not a party central. 
“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” he tells Marlene, grinning. 
He puts an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. You feel your face burn so you try to hide it with your cup. Maybe you can pass it off as the room being too hot or being flushed from the alcohol. Only Sirius knows it’s your first drink, right? 
You try to focus on what your friends are saying and laughing about, but the feeling of Sirius’ arm, his hand and his body are too much. Your body feels like it’s being constantly electrocuted. You take slow sips from your cup, as if the drink will somehow alleviate the feeling. You can only imagine how this looks to his mystery girl. You pressed into Sirius’ side with his arm around you as he talks and laughs? You’re trying not to melt into his touch. You try to keep the idea of this other girl in your mind. But you like having his arm around you a bit too much. 
“Shit, this is a good song!” Sirius roars before lowering his voice to whisper in your ear, “Dance with me, lovely?” 
You look up with him with concerned eyes. “How will that look to that girl you really like?”
You hate that you have to keep reminding him that he was supposed to be looking for this girl and flirting with her, rather than spending all of his time with you. He just gives you his trademark smile.
“It will show off my amazing dancing skills. Come on, you didn’t say no!”
He pulls you away from your friends into the crowds of people dancing. Sirius is far more at his leisure than you are. You would much rather be on a bench off to the side, sipping on a new drink as the music fills your senses. At least, you think that until Sirius has his hands on your hips, helping you move to the music.
“Ah, there it is! She does have rhythm!” he cheers with his face close to yours. It’s close enough to feel the heat of his breath and to smell the spiked punch. 
Everything about the moment makes your heart pound in your chest. For a second, the idea of his mystery girl flits into your mind, but she is banished as Sirius spins you around. Your laughter mixes with his and the sounds of people around you, laughing themselves and singing along to the music. You never fancied yourself a dancer before now, but with Sirius so close and all of his attention on you, it feels right. You wouldn’t mind if you could live in this moment forever. 
When the music switches to something slower, you prepare yourself to see Sirius move back toward your friends. You don’t expect him to place his hands on your waist and pull you even closer. 
You don’t expect him to lean in and whisper, “Put your hands around my neck, sweetheart. That’s how you slow dance.”
You do as told. It makes it easier to hide your bright red face in his shoulder. You know how to slow dance; you just never did it with anyone before. You certainly hadn’t expected your first slow dance to be with Sirius. It made sense to a point though that it would be with your best guy friend, someone you were comfortable with. 
The song ends too soon for you. The next song is back to the upbeat rhythm that previously filled the room. Your heart beat is too loud in your ears to process it.
“I need another drink,” you tell Sirius before walking away from him.
You did need a drink, but you also need a moment away from him. ‘He’s in love with someone else’ is on repeat in your head. You can’t have yourself falling deeper in love with him when you know his heart belongs to someone else, someone he wouldn’t even tell you the name of. 
When you have a fresh glass in your hand, you turn to look for Sirius in the crowd where you left him. He’s not there. You spot him back with the Marauders. It makes you frown. He was supposed to be finding this girl and asking her to dance, not spending the whole night with you and the boys. You want to remind him of that, but something prevents you from doing it. You walk over to the girls, hoping that maybe they’re talking about something interesting.
“Isn’t this so much better than essays?” Lily asks, leaning almost all of her body weight on your shoulder as soon as you join them.
“I mean, I guess so,” you answer.
“Oh, please,” Mary laughs. “It looked like you were enjoying yourself with Sirius out there.” 
Your blush immediately returns.
“So is it a thing? You ‘n’ him?” she asks. 
Marlene turns her full attention to you at the question and Lily throws her arms around you in a hug. 
“It really should be!” Lily gushes, her voice far too loud in your ear. “You’d be so cute together! It’s obvious he adores you!” 
You smile as you shrug Lily off.
“Sorry to disappoint, but he’s infatuated with someone else,” you say, mockingly saying infatuated to make yourself feel better. You try to hold in a sigh. 
“Who?” Marlene demands. “We’ll take care of her!” 
“Dunno. He won’t tell me.”
Marlene and Lily don matching frowns and furrowed brows. 
“Darling! There you are!” Sirius’ voice booms.
The three girls glare at him.
“What’d I do?” he asks, his arm finding its place around your shoulders. 
“I’ll tell you what you did, Black,” Marlene starts.
“Nothing! You did nothing,” you say quickly, cutting Marlene off before she can say too much.
While you’ve never said anything directly about liking Sirius to them, you’re sure it’s obvious to them now and you’ll hear more about it tomorrow. 
“Well, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asks cautiously, eyeing the girls who are still glaring daggers at him. 
“No, you’re not,” you say firmly, also eyeing the girls. 
You really hope they don’t say anything right now that would embarrass you and possibly hurt the friendship you have so carefully preserved. 
“Then I’m sure they won’t mind if I steal you away again!” he says cheerfully and steers you away from them.
He takes you to a quieter area down a few flights of stairs and stopping on a landing. Based on the doors you’ve passed, you figure you’re by the dorms. You’re glad that he took you down rather than up because the air is significantly cooler. 
“Did you find your mystery girl?” you ask as he leans against the wall, sipping his own drink that he must’ve refilled at some point.
He nods. 
You cock your head to the side. “Then why haven’t you stolen her away to this little spot?” 
He chuckles. “What makes you think I haven’t?”
“You’ve already ditched her?” you ask accusingly. 
“No!” He stands up straighter and moves closer to you. “No, I’m with her right now.”
“But it’s just us here?” 
He takes another step toward you and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.
“Oh, darling, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you are so clearly not a Ravenclaw.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” you spit. “Are you calling me stupid?” 
He throws his head back, laughing.
“Yes! Yes, I am.”
You scoff and take a step back from Sirius. 
“Well then.” You turn to go up the stairs because why did Sirius steal you away to insult you?
“No, listen!” He reaches out to stop you from heading back to the party. “You’re not stupid. Blind? Maybe. A bit dense right now? Yeah.”
“You’re not helping yourself,” you say dryly. 
“It’s you. You’re the… mystery girl, as you’ve been calling her. It’s been you the whole time.”
You freeze for a moment. 
“What?” you breathe. That can’t be right. 
“When I asked you about how girls flirt? I was asking how to know if you were ever flirting with me. But then you never did any of those things. Maybe one or two once or twice. So I asked how I could flirt with you. I know you enough to know that you wouldn’t want me to use those cheesy or dirty lines on you. You wouldn’t want an overtly public declaration of love to ask you to Hogsmeade. But even with your advice, you don’t seem to respond to me.”
He stops talking for what feels like an eternity. He’s scanning your face for a reaction, for any kind of sign from you, but all he gets is utter shock and confusion. 
“What?” you repeat in the same quiet voice of disbelief. 
He takes a step toward you so that his body is almost touching yours.
“The girl I really like and don’t want to mess things up with? She’s you. She’s been you for a while now. And I’m asking you how you feel about me because you can be so hard to read sometimes.” 
His voice is so soft and honest. You blink slowly as you gaze into those grey eyes you love so much. 
“She’s me?” you echo his sentiment. 
“Yes. Please, love, I need to know. Do you like me or have I just made a rather large fool of myself?”
“That’s why you didn’t want to come unless I did,” you whisper more to yourself than to Sirius, ignoring his question and the way his eyes filled with uncertainty as you did so. “That’s why you’ve been complimenting me more and offering to carry my bag. Oh…”
“Love?” he asks with a wavering voice. 
You’ve never heard him so nervous before. His hand slowly reaches up to cup your face. 
“Please…” he whispers.
“This is all… real?” you ask, placing your hand on top of his. 
“Yes. It’s so real.”
You smile. It’s wide and filled with the most joy you’ve ever felt. But then it disappears as you glare at Sirius.
“Don’t you ever call me stupid again,” you say firmly.
“I won’t.” There’s a beat of silence. “Wait, so do you-”
You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. It was a moment of Gryffindor braveness that you usually didn’t showcase. It took Sirius by surprise. He takes a moment to process that you, the girl he’s been pining over for a while, is kissing him and that he should kiss you back. But he does and it’s everything you’ve dreamed it would be. All of those times you’ve thought about his mystery girl, you never really considered that she could be you. As much as you dreamed it, you never really believed you could be the girl he described as the sweetest, the most beautiful, the kindest and most wonderful, perfection. But you were and you felt it as Sirius wraps his arms around you to hold you close, even after you broke away from the kiss. 
“Oh, the girls were glaring at you earlier because I told them you liked someone else after they asked if we were dating.” 
“Hmm, too bad that someone else is you,” he mumbles against your shoulder, still not letting you go. “We can correct your misinformation later. You’re mine now.”
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ellieputellas · 8 months ago
Text
healing process | alexia putellas x reader
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You headed to Barcelona for a gap year, hoping to heal from a messy breakup. What you didn’t expect was to find yourself entangled in an even more complicated romance with the captivating, 30-year-old footballer who lived just down the hall. | wc: 21k+
tags: age gap, collegestudent!reader, mostly angst, some smut, next-door neighbors, fluff in the start, drama,
contains: femme!reader, unrealistic football season schedule, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, dirty talk, drunk sex, cunnilingus r!receiving+a!receiving, toxic situationship, love triangle (kinda but not really), cursing, use of pet names, might have some errors and typos
masterlist ♡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! please do not repost this anywhere else!
⋆˙⟡♡ After suffering a rough break-up with your high school sweetheart and ex-girlfriend of 6 years, you decided that what you needed most was a gap year in a foreign country. So, you packed your essentials and booked a one-way ticket to Barcelona.
⋆˙⟡♡ You lived with your rich aunt who worked as a doctor in Barcelona. She kindly agreed to give you lodging, three meals a day, and the occasional pocket money in exchange for helping her keep the house tidy and walking the dogs, which wasn't much work for you anyway.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Warm day out," You said to your aunt's golden retriever, Ruby. "Let's make the most of it and find me a new girlfriend." You figured that today was a good idea to get dolled up, wear a sundress, and just pass by the nearby university with the cutest dog in the world. Ruby would catch the attention of all the cute college girls and then, you'd reel them in with a few eyelash bats.
That would be the perfect way of getting a meet cute. You thought to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡ You got dressed, putting on a teasingly short white sundress and a pair of ballet flats. You brushed your hair and applied a bit of make-up. You were determined to get that meet-cute and find someone to help you forget about your girlfriend.
The easiest way getting over an ex was getting under someone, your best friend always said. You always rolled your eyes at her but now, you couldn't help but feel that she might have been right. 
Cause here you were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and all you could think about was your stupid ex. You needed to do something about it and quick.
⋆˙⟡♡ You put on Ruby's leash and cheerfully walked out of your aunt's apartment unit, determined to be all cutesy until a girl approaches you.
It seemed Ruby had the same idea, because as soon as you stepped into the hallway, she spotted a tiny Pomeranian across the hallway, and that was all it took. Without warning, Ruby darted toward the dog, pulling you forward as you tried to hold on to the leash. Before you could even process, you were flat on your face.
You yelped as you fell, the sound catching the attention of the tiny dog’s owner. You winced as your body slammed into the floor, feeling pained by the impact. But, nothing was more painful than the embarrassment that followed. 
“Ui, guapa, estàs bé?” The voice called out, the sound of rushing footsteps getting closer. “Aquest gos teu és fort, eh?”
You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but both dogs had already zeroed in on you, sniffing your head as you attempted to sit up. This definitely isn't romance movie, meet-cute material.
As you finally settled on your butt, trying to regain your composure, the other girl chuckled, saying something in a language you couldn’t quite place. You looked up, and everything around you seemed to blur.
She was, without question, the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.
Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her sun-kissed skin accentuated her cheekbones. Her eyes were a warm hazel that seemed to glimmer in the soft light. You blinked, stunned by how gorgeous she looked.
“Uh, I don’t speak, um…” You stammered, struggling to find words in the face of such beauty. You could feel your face warm up.
She chuckled, her smile practically glowing. “You must’ve hit your head, yeah?”
You snapped back into reality and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, uh, I fell.” You winced internally. Why was I telling her that? She literally witnessed it all play out.
The girl laughed too, her voice light and warm. "Hmm," She bit her lip. Unbeknownst to you, she was also checking you out, glancing at your eyes and lips. And the sundress... she always loved seeing girls in short sundresses. "Why don't you come over and I'll help you ice that head, yeah?"
You just nodded stupidly cause even if you were still filled with embarrassment, there was no way you were passing up the opportunity to get to know this gorgeous Blonde.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia helped you up, holding your arm as she guided you towards her place. You felt intimidated by her strong presence. She just seemed like the kind of person who seemed so sure of themselves. Even the way she said her own name when she introduced herself was so sexy. It didn't take you long to be enamored by her. In fact, all it took was the walk from where you fell to her door.
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as you stepped inside her home, you got an immediate sense of who Alexia was. She guided you to the living room, and as you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice the details of the space —the warmth of the interiors, the photos framed on the walls, the trophies displayed proudly, the personal touches in every corner. It was clear that she was someone with impeccable taste and a meticulous eye for detail.
"Trophies?" You asked as you settled down on the couch with Ruby who was too distracted sniffing the pomeranian's butt.
Alexia responded as her expression lightened up. "Ah, yes, I am a footballer."
You nodded and hummed, impressed. "Like, for fun?"
Alexia chuckled as she got behind her kitchen counter, wrapping some ice cubes in a kitchen towel. "Yes, for fun..." She answered. "And for work. I play professionally."
"Oh," You responded, mildly embarrassed that you didn't recognize her. "Sorry, I don't watch much soccer."
Alexia settled next to you on the couch, leaning in to gently place the ice against your head, on the nonexistent bump. (She had no clue you didn't actually hit your head and was just too shy and intimidated to correct her when she thought you did.)
“Here?” she asked, her voice soft as she pressed the ice towel on your forehead.
You nodded, biting your lip as she leaned closer. She was so close you could feel the warmth of her body, the gentle touch of her hand, and smell the subtle scent of her perfume. It made your pulse quicken, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander.
“Hmm,” she hummed, locking eyes with you as she tried to make conversation. “You're American, yes?"
“Yeah… is it obvious?” you blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious by the fact that she was suddenly getting to know you.
She chuckled. “Well, first, you called it soccer and not football. And… you don’t speak Catalan or Spanish.” She responded as she brushed away the stray hairs sticking to your forehead. "The accent too, of course. It's cute."
You felt your cheeks flush even more. She was so observant, and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy under her gaze. 
She leaned back a little, giving you some space as she continued, “So, what is an American girl like you doing in Barcelona?"
You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Oh, I'm taking a gap year… from college.” You said, hesitating to mention the whole thing with your ex. "Stress from school and stuff, y'know how it is."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hmm, still in school." She mused, under her breath. "And how old are you?”
“Uh… 22,” you stammered, suddenly nervous.
Alexia hummed thoughtfully, her lips curling into a small smile. “So young,” she muttered under her breath. “Too young, actually.”
You blinked, unsure if you heard that right. You couldn't help but jump to conclusions. Pretty older women should never make statements like that, you thought to yourself as you grew even more flustered. “What do you mean?”
Alexia grinned slyly. “I just mean... I’m old enough to know better than to wear a short sundress with just a pair of lacey pink panties underneath while walking a gigantic dog.” She recounted with a chuckle.
You grew tomato red, realizing just how embarrassing her first impression of you was. You felt the warmth spread across your cheeks and then to your body. You wished the floor would have swallowed you whole.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that." You stammered, tripping over your own words.
She chuckled. "Why sorry?" 
Your heart skipped a beat as she said it with a barely detectable mischievous glint in her eyes. You blinked in shock. "Uh, uhm, just cause... public indecency?"
Alexia laughed. "You're funny." She leaned in close again to continue icing your head. "Is the ice helping or not at all?"
You bit your lip as you gazed at her raised arms, the tattoo on the underside of it, the muscles. As she moved closer to you, the more you got a whiff of her intoxicating scent and the more you get to see the beautiful details of her face.
"Oh, it's helping a lot."
⋆˙⟡♡ Ever since you met Alexia and learned that she lived just across the hall from your aunt, you found yourself walking Ruby more often than ever. What started as a casual routine soon turned into an excuse to see her, which was successful since you always ended up running into her.
⋆˙⟡♡ “Since you’re always walking Ruby, we should go together. It would be good for Nala to have a friend.” Alexia said as you were heading back to your apartment on one of the times you coincidentally bumped into her. “I should give you my number so you can text me whenever you and Ruby are out.” “Oh, sure, sure.” You said trying to play it cool when you were really geeking out on the inside. You handed over your phone to Alexia who typed her number into your phone.
She bit her lip as she returned it. “Text me as soon as you get home so I can save your number, okay?” She smiled at you. “See you soon, guapa.”
⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, you texted Alexia every day that you would be walking Ruby. Initially, you were afraid your crush on her would be so obvious but even if it was, Alexia didn’t seem to mind as she never missed a day with you.
⋆˙⟡♡ When you passed by cute cafés during your dog walks, she'd insist on buying you a drink while chatting you up about college life or whatever was piquing your interest that day. It was rare that she talked about herself, which you found hard to believe considering that she had so many achievements.
⋆˙⟡♡ The daily walks weren’t enough for you. You had to see her more but you were afraid that she’d view you as some kid who always begged to hang out. So, you tried to be a bit more subtle by trying to bump into her every chance you got. ⋆˙⟡♡ There wasn't a single dirty sock in your aunt's apartment since you went to the laundromat every chance you got just to bump into Alexia. And when you did, she was always courteous and proper. She never let you carry your own bag of laundry up to your floor even when you insisted you could handle it. She always paid for your laundry too. Even when you would try to tell her that your aunt left you more than enough money for errands, she’d laugh and say something along the lines of “just pocket it and let me pay” or “it’s just a few euros, no big deal.”
⋆˙⟡♡ A couple of times, you joined her for her grocery run to the supermarket when all you really needed was a singular tube of toothpaste or a small bag of tomatoes. She’d tell you all the best ingredients to buy for certain dishes, even if you’ve told her multiple times all you knew how to cook were box mix pancakes and fried rice. And without failure, she would invite you over to her house after your grocery trip to show you how to cook a certain dish but all you’d do is admire how graciously she worked in the kitchen
⋆˙⟡♡ Each and every single time you were together, Alexia was always friendly, polite — always keeping a careful distance. But somehow, in every encounter, there was that one fleeting touch, one single moment, one look that just left you completely hooked.
Some days, it would be her hand lingering a moment too long on the small of your back or the side of your waist or sometimes even on your thigh, just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. Other times, it was the microglances—the quick, almost imperceptible glances she would steal toward your lips before quickly looking away. Occasionally, there were comments about your age, your looks, how she loved being around you — innocent enough on the surface, but with an undertone that made you question her intentions in saying them. 
If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it entirely. But you always were. Every word she said, every glance, every touch was amplified and engraved in your mind. With Alexia, you were no longer just present—you were consumed. And you couldn’t get enough.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had insisted you stay for a dinner and movie after you helped her unpack the groceries on her latest supermarket run, which you excitedly agreed to.
After dinner, you both settled onto the couch. She mentioned that a teammate had recommended the movie, but neither of you had any clue what it was about. 
Soon enough, you realized it was a horror movie—a genre you weren’t exactly thrilled about, especially with how easily you jumped at every little thing. But you two were already invested in the story to change it to something else. 
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia quickly regretted trusting Patri's recommendation blindly. This definitely wasn’t the vibe she’d intended, but she decided to make the most of it.
Noticing your shivers, she glanced over. “Cold?”
You nodded, and she laughed softly, heading to her bedroom to grab a comforter. She set it over both of you, creating a cozy little nest on the couch.
As the suspense built, you found yourself sinking deeper into the blanket, resisting the urge to cover your eyes as things got scarier. Alexia chuckled, nudging you. “You’re such a baby,” she teased.
“This doesn’t scare you?” you asked, wide-eyed.
She shrugged. "No, not really, I get shocked sometimes but it's nothing too intense for me." She smiled at you. "And I guess, this is too scary for a little kid like you, huh?"
You pouted at her teasing. "Hey! You don't get to tease me when you made me watch a scary movie."
She chuckled, putting her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, no more teasing." She said. "If you're that scared, why don't you snuggle up here? I promise I don't bite."
You bit your lip and felt your heart beat faster. You nodded and scooted closer to her. Alexia put her arm around you as you rested your head on her chest.
There was a warmth to it, a sense of comfort that felt almost… domestic. Sitting there, wrapped in her arms after a casual evening of groceries and a shared meal, you felt the faint illusion of something more — something almost relationship-like.
Alexia never made any deliberate and overt actions to show you that she was interested in you in that manner but the fact that you two were hanging out basically every day, doing all these domestic errands, and now, cuddling... you couldn't help but delude yourself that maybe there could be something there. It had to mean something.
A few moments later, Alexia broke the silence. “Cariño, you still awake?” The endearment made your heart skip a beat. She's used it on you a few times before but without failure, it always made you flush.
You blinked and looked up at her, taking note of the proximity between the two of you. Her eyes were soft and warm as they looked back at you. "Yeah, I'm just comfy.” You hummed, comfortably. “Being near you helped me be less scared honestly.”
Alexia chuckled. You rested your head on her chest again and she started brushing your hair with her fingertips. It was so easy to get lost in how good it felt, but a small voice in the back of your mind warned that maybe this closeness meant nothing to her. Maybe she was like this with all her friends.
"You know you remind me of my teammate, Jana." Alexia suddenly said in the middle of the movie. "She's also around your age and whenever we watched scary movies, she'd cling on to me exactly like this."
It felt like confirmation of your own worries. You hummed in response, not sure what to say. Great, so I guess she is like this with all her friends.
"You should meet her. You'd get along. She's sweet." She continued.
You nodded. "Does she hang out here a lot?" You asked, trying to sound unaffected by the thought of someone else spending this much time with this woman you were crushing hard on.
"Yes, but more so when she was newer to the team." Alexia shared. "She's practically like my little sister so I felt like I had to take care of her. I'd always have her and my other younger teammates hang out here and watch movies during our downtimes. Sometimes, I feel like I raised them."
You just nodded again. You didn't know what was worse – your initial thought that maybe Alexia was interested in someone else or the fact that she was comparing you to someone she thought of as her little sister.
⋆˙⟡♡ “Had to take a late shift at the hospital. I’ll be home in the morning,” read the text from your aunt. You bit your lip, feeling a pang of unease at the thought of being alone in her big apartment all night after watching a scary movie.
Sure, Ruby would be there, but that dog was more of a scaredy cat than you were. If anything, she’d probably push you toward a demon just to save herself.
"You good?" Alexia asked as she noticed you still staring at your phone.
"Yeah, my aunt took another shift at the hospital so I'd be all alone at the apartment." Being home alone after watching Daniel Radcliffe get tormented by some vengeful ghost in a house all by himself was not exactly ideal.
Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you won’t be alone.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’ll be with the woman in black.”
“Alexia!” You playfully smacked her as she laughed. “Don’t joke like that—I’m actually terrified.”
“I’m just teasing,” she said with a smile, her tone softening. “But I won’t let you stay there alone, of course. Spend the night here. I’ll lend you something to wear.”
⋆˙⟡♡ You loved having Alexia's name on you. You took a glance at yourself wearing the old, red jersey you picked out from her cabinet. She told you that the jersey wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep in but you insisted. What other chance would you get to snuggle up in a football superstar’s jersey.
"I still cannot believe you played for your country in the World Cup," You shared out loud. "When you first told me you played soccer, I genuinely thought you meant like casually or like not to that level."
Alexia chuckled, towel-drying her hair after coming out of the shower. “Didn’t want to brag, but… yes, I’ve represented the country,” she replied with a modest grin.
After finishing up, she climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to spend all night admiring yourself in my kit?” she teased, watching you look at yourself in the mirror.
You chuckled and made your way to her bed. You crawled under the covers and settled with a good distance between you and Alexia. She must have noticed because she commented. "Why are you so far? Are you leaving room for the woman in black?"
You grabbed a pillow and playfully smacked her. “Alexia, don’t make jokes about that! I’m still freaked out from that movie.”
“Alright, alright, no more ghost jokes,” she laughed. “But come closer; I don’t want you rolling off the bed.”
You bit your lip as you scooted toward her, feeling the warmth of her body beside you. Turning onto your side, you found yourself facing her, and she mirrored you, her eyes soft.
"Will I ever get to watch you play?" You asked in a soft voice.
Alexia nodded. "Of course, once the season starts, I'll have a ticket for you in every game." She smiled. "When are you leaving Barcelona again?"
You hummed in thought. "Well, since I plan to re-enroll in the next year, I have to be home before September next year."
Alexia nodded. "Well, that just means you get to watch me play a lot of games before you go home." She smiled warmly at you. "I would love to see you there in the crowd in a Barcelona jersey. You'd be so cute in blaugrana."
You blushed and smiled at the thought of it. "Is it okay if I don't know a thing about football?"
Alexia chuckled. “All you need to know is how to yell my name.” Her voice was laced with drowsiness. "I'd just love to have you there cheering for me. Promise that you'll cheer for me?"
You blushed, her words sending a thrill through you. "Of course, Alexia. I'll be the loudest one in the crowd." You promised.
Alexia smiled at your words as her eyes grew heavy.
You wanted so badly to tell her how much she made you feel—how the smallest gestures, the small teasing comments, and the way she looked at you left you craving more. You wanted to tell her how much you liked spending time with her and being around her. And, god, the thought of being this close to her in bed…
But you held back. Despite how sweet and attentive Alexia was, she never made her intentions clear. Was she spending time with you because she liked you, or did she just see you as a little sister figure? You couldn’t tell and you weren't willing to risk anything just yet.
Soon, Alexia's eyes began to flutter with drowsiness, and she drifted off to sleep. Your heart pounded, an ache in your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace her face with your fingertips. But you stopped yourself, thinking it would be too intimate, too personal.
All you could do was watch her until sleep claimed you too.
⋆˙⟡♡ "So, tell me which girl in this damn apartment building are you playing hooky with?" Your aunt teasingly berated you over dinner. It's been a while since your aunt and you had dinner together with all the time she was spending working at the hospital and all that time you were spending with Alexia.
Your eyes widened. "Why would you think that?"
Your aunt hummed. "Well, cause just over a month ago, you spent most of the time whining to me about your fugly ex but now, you're doing the laundry every fucking day. You're walking Ruby so much that she's grown gigantic calf muscles. You’re running errands like a woman possessed, picking up random things from the supermarket.” She recounted. "Plus, the fact that you're doing all these errands in short sundresses and with blush and mascara..."
You immediately blushed, not expecting her to be so perceptive. “Why would you automatically assume I’m flirting with someone? I just… made a friend.” You said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. As much as you crush on Alexia, you never really made a move… and neither did she.
Your aunt hummed with satisfaction, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Well, tell me about your friend then! I’m not your mom—I won’t lecture you, but I am rooting for you. In fact, I’m all for hearing about your sex life!”
You threw your head back in laughter, amused by your aunt’s frankness. She joined you, but her curiosity didn’t seem to waver.
“I swear, I’m not interested in anyone like that." You tried to brush it off casually, but your aunt’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I’m just learning a lot about the city with this lady from our building. She took me to some cafés and bakeries nearby. I can pick up some of these lovely croissants for you if you’d like.”
Your aunt hummed and raised an eyebrow, ignoring your lame attempt at deflecting the topic. "Well, I just gotta tell you that there are crazy folks living in this complex and I just want to make sure you're not falling for some rich wackjob."
You rolled your eyes in amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure you're the only crazy, rich person here, Auntie.” You joked back at her.
She feigned offense, dramatically clutching her chest. “Absolutely not! These people make me look sane. Like, Alvaro down the hall? He has a creepy puppet collection worth thousands of euros! And that lady in apartment 309? Apparently, she nearly went to jail because she tried to, uh, cut off her husband’s—well, you get the picture.”
Your aunt went on and on listing down the quirks of the people who lived in your building. 
Some of them were a tad weird but not really anything of concern. ("I heard that British girl one floor down is an esthetician and she bedazzles your genitals after she waxes it.") 
Some... well, you just felt your aunt was making up to make you laugh. ("Some guy who lives here once made an offer in the elevator to sniff my feet in exchange for a thousand euros.")
You had a good laugh until a familiar name popped up. "Don't let me get started with that famous football girl on our floor, Alexia or Alexis or whatever. She and her fiancé used to fight so much. Literally, they'd even take it out on each other at the hallway — just yelling and throwing stuff. At some point, someone even called the police."
Your heart stopped. "The police?"
"Well, not the police but like... the building manager, which is basically the same thing to me." She shrugged at her own exaggeration. "I guess they made up or completely split up cause I don't hear fighting down the hall anymore. Either way, thank god."
You nodded, trying to keep your composure. You knew Alexia had past relationships but you didn't know about her being previously engaged; she never liked talking too much about herself, especially her past relationships.
But you couldn’t imagine the Alexia you spent so much time with being involved in a toxic relationship like that. She was always so calm and level-headed. Surely, it must have just been a mistake. Still, a nervous flutter settled in your stomach. 
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up in the middle of the night to Ruby pawing at you insistently. Blinking, still groggy from sleep, you muttered, "What is it, girl?"
She let out a low whining sound, the same sound she made when she had to poo. You cursed under your breath as you realized you forgot to take her out today for her daily potty.
Your aunt previously told you that the peckish dog only peed and hated pooping in litter boxes. Even when you tried to coax her into it, she refused, so every day, you would take her outside for a poop.
You never usually missed it since she would just do it during your walks with Alexia and Nala. But since Alexia has been busy for a while and couldn't see you, you had no energy to get out of bed.
It's only been a few days since you last saw Alexia yet you were already missing her badly. It also upset you that she didn't even give a reason for her sudden absence, just a curt text telling you she'd be too busy to hang out.
But, being upset over a neighbor's unavailability was no excuse to miss taking Ruby out on her daily poo.
"I'm so sorry, Ruby." You said as you sleepily fumbled out of bed. Throwing on a hoodie, you leashed her up, grabbed the potty pick up kit and headed to the hallway. "Let's go on a quick walk."
The second you stepped out, you heard laughter echoing down the hall. You rubbed your eyes as you looked over to the source of the sound. That's when you saw Alexia stumbling to her door, wearing a fitted, backless black dress, arm-in-arm with a taller girl with dark hair whose arms were covered in tattoos. They were swaying, giggling, obviously drunk.
You couldn't recognize the girl Alexia was with but to be fair, Alexia never talked much about her friends or her dating history. But from what you could observe right now, it was obvious that there was something between the two.
You cursed under your breath as you saw them drunkenly stumble towards Alexia's door. You considered going back inside your aunt's place but just as you tried to, Ruby let out a small bark, as if to tell you to hurry up.
"Alright, alright," You whispered to the demanding dog as you made your way to the elevator —too close to Alexia’s apartment for comfort.
Despite your best attempts at stealth, Ruby was too big and enthusiastic to go unnoticed.
“Espera, espera,” Alexia’s voice rang out as she noticed you, her lips curving into a smile. “¿Ets tu, guapa?”
You could tell from the volume and slur of her voice that she had way too much to drink. You shyly waved but didn't say anything. You prayed the elevator would come faster. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw how close this tall girl was to Alexia, her arm lingering around Alexia’s waist. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that made your stomach twist.
Alexia called out to you one last time, gesturing for you to come over, but you just pointed to Ruby as an excuse and mouthed, “Can’t.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes before turning back to her door.
Just as she was about the enter her apartment, you heard the tattooed girl ask Alexia who you were. “¿Y esa chica, quién es?”
"Ah, just some clingy kid who hangs around..." Her voice trailed off as the two entered the apartment but it was all you had to hear.
You really were just some kid to her. 
⋆˙⟡♡ You were upset about the whole encounter you had with drunken Alexia for about a week. You shifted your whole errand schedule to avoid her. You started walking Ruby late at night. You did your laundry very early in the morning, too early for anyone to actually get up and wash their clothes. Whenever she texted you, you'd ignore it or give her a curt response, telling her you were too busy or feeling unwell. You basically wanted to avoid Alexia at all costs.
⋆˙⟡♡   On the other hand, your best friend from back home was spam-texting you, pestering you about updating her with your "new, exciting life in Barcelona."
Sadly, you had nothing to update her on. 
What would you even say? Oh, it's great, just started yearning for some thirty-year-old who lives down the hall who might be hooking up with some hot, tall, tattooed vixen who I could never amount to... so now, I'm avoiding her cause I don't want my feelings hurt. So, yeah it's been great!
You didn't want to come back home with stories about how you flew all the way to Barcelona just to be upset over another girl. So, you decided that you've had enough of bedrotting with Ruby all day. You were going out to have fun on a Friday night.
You tried to rewind your mindset to just before you met Alexia — determined to forget a girl by finding another girl to mess around with.
You put on a black leather bralette with a very short skort that showed a sliver of your butt cheeks. You went all out with the make-up and hair. You were determined to get laid tonight... or at the very least, find someone to kiss.
⋆˙⟡♡  That night, you found yourself at a packed lesbian bar. The place was already buzzing when you walked in, but you didn’t mind—it only meant more eyes on you.
You didn’t even need to drink to feel the rush of confidence. The playful glances from the other women were enough to make you feel like the center of attention. You could tell they were eyeing you, sizing you up, and enjoying the sight of a fresh, hot girl in the crowd.
What you didn’t know was that as soon as you made your way to the counter, several girls were already trying to figure out the best way to approach you and offer to buy you a drink.
But it was one girl who beat them to it. She was a brunette with lightly tanned skin, defined eyebrows, and a smile that was radiant and inviting. As soon you approached the counter, she slid in before you, leaning in with that playful, confident grin. “¿Te puedo invitar a un trago?”
You couldn’t help but blush, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you looked her up and down. She was taller than you and wore a casual outfit—just a simple white shirt and pants, but she pulled it off effortlessly. “Did you just ask me in Catalan to buy me a drink?”
The brunette chuckled and shook her head, quickly understanding that you were a foreigner. "Spanish, actually." She extended her hand to introduce herself. "Patri."
You smiled back at the girl and shook her hand. "I'll take that drink, Patri."
⋆˙⟡♡ A few drinks later, you were laughing louder than you intended at all the jokes Patri made, and finding every excuse to touch her whenever you spoke. You were getting more and more tipsy, but you didn’t mind it—this was exactly what you wanted. Tonight was about fun, and you were determined to get what you came for.
“Why is every girl in Barcelona a soccer player?” you asked, laughing a little too loudly when she casually mentioned she played football.
Patri just chuckled, clearly amused by your question. “Football is huge here. A lot of people play it for fun, like, recreationally…” she said, playing it humble. “But I actually play professionally for a decent club."
You raised an eyebrow, your fingers lightly grazing her upper arm as you spoke. “Then I must be lucky to have such a famous football player buying me drinks.”
Tugging at Patri's ego seemed to work because she inched towards you and put a hand on your waist. "Yeah?" The footballer asked.
You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip as you nodded. "Yeah..." You intentionally averted your gaze to her lips, silently daring her to make the first move.
Patri didn’t need any more encouragement. She stepped closer, leaning in to close the gap between you, her lips almost on yours.
“Ey, Patri!”
A groan escaped Patri’s lips as she pulled back, her eyes apologizing before she turned toward the sound of the voice. You turned as well, curiosity piquing when you saw who was interrupting your moment... only to be met by the sight of Alexia.  ⋆˙⟡♡ You should have figured it out yourself that Patri and Alexia were teammates but you were too focused on the goal of flirting that it didn’t even cross your mind. If only you knew, you would have picked any other girl to flirt with.
⋆˙⟡♡ Patri introduced you to her teammates who had just arrived — Mapi, Ingrid, Kika, and of course... Alexia Putellas. They all greeted you warmly, save for Alexia who had a stoic look on her face. She didn't react, didn't make it known to her teammates that she already knew you. She just stayed silent, her jaw clenched.
You got to know all of them. They were all very welcoming and they all seemed proud of Patri for bagging you.  At one point, you caught Mapi whispering to Patri something in Spanish but all you could catch was the part when she said something about how pretty you were. Ingrid also complimented you a lot, even touching the details of your leather outfit. It was an ego boost, for sure, getting all these famous footballers to gush about you.
The entire time, Alexia stood silently, either averting your gaze or ordering more drinks. You decided that if she wasn't going to address you, you weren't going to address her. Two could play at that game.
⋆˙⟡♡ You enjoyed being with Patri — her firm body dancing against yours, the heat of her presence, the way she made you laugh and smile effortlessly. She was hot, confident, and didn't shy away from showing her attraction to you. It was easy to get lost in the moment with her, the music pulsing around you, her hands on your hips as you danced together.
But what turned you on the most was the fact that Alexia was watching you the entire time. From the corner of your eye, you could see her—standing by the bar, drink in hand, watching you with a gaze that was far too intense to be accidental. ⋆˙⟡♡ As the night wore on and the alcohol took hold, Alexia stopped pretending she wasn't watching, her eyes locked on you the entire time you danced with Patri, not caring for any more subtlety. It was intimidating but it also felt like a challenge, as if testing you as to how far you’d go while she was watching.
⋆˙⟡♡ The contrast of it all was so electrifying — Patri's impossible closeness with her body pressed against yours and her hands wandering all over your body, and Alexia standing several feet away from you with eyes that never departed you. 
You had been avoiding her gaze the entire night. It just felt too intense for you to handle but after another tequila shot that Patri so gladly poured down your mouth, you finally gained the courage to lock eyes with her as you pressed your backside against Patri's front, grinding seductively. 
Alexia's stare was firm and unmoving; it was almost unreadable. Anger? Disbelief? Annoyance? Disgust? You had no fucking clue. Her eyes narrowed at you two as Patri spun you around and held you closer to her, practically exchanging breaths. Alexia downed her whiskey as she rolled her eyes, turning around towards the counter to order another.
⋆˙⟡♡ "I just need to have you," Patri whispered drunken sweet nothings into your ears as her hands got busy, mostly gripping your waist and hips.
The two of you had made way to a more private corner where you two could be more intimate and apart from the rowdy dance floor. 
Patri pressed a kiss on the side of your jaw. It was firm enough for you to react but gentle enough to let you know she was testing out the waters. Seeing your reaction, Patri smirked and cursed under her breath as she saw your eyes fluttering under her touch.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia watched it all unfold. The alcohol was making her more irritable than she normally was. As soon as she saw Patri plant her lips on you, she felt the jealousy rush through her body. No fucking way, she thought. No fucking way Patri gets to kiss her before I do.
Before you two could proceed any further, Alexia put down her glass and stomped her way to you, not giving a fuck about the people she was bumping and pushing away as she did.
When she got to you, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Patri without bothering to say a single word to either of you. Your drunken state couldn't process what was happening immediately. 
"What the fuck?" It was all you could say. You turned desperately to look at Patri who looked just as dumbfounded as you. You tried to halt but Alexia's grip was so strong that even when you tried to stop, she was able to drag your weight.
⋆˙⟡♡ You finally stopped where Alexia's car was parked and you frowned. "I'm not getting in with you, Alexia! You're drunk!" You said in almost a shout. "And I can't drive for shit so we're not going anywhere! I'm going back to Patr—"
Suddenly, Alexia's lips came crashing onto yours, shutting you up. She pressed your body against the cool surface of her car. Her hand made its way to your waist as she kissed you desperately, thirstily. 
It didn't take long for you to reciprocate with your hands snaking to the side of her neck, kissing her as if you wanted to completely devour her. You moaned as you felt Alexia's tongue enter your mouth and as her hand lowered from your waist to your ass. Whatever apprehension or complaint you had from being pulled away from Patri was gone. This kiss was something you've been wanting, craving, needing for weeks
Alexia ended the kiss as abruptly as she started it. She kept one hand on her vehicle and the other on your waist as she pulled away slightly — her eyes piercing yours with an intensely hungry stare. 
"Get in the car." She ordered in a deep, raspy voice and you had no choice but to say yes.
⋆˙⟡♡ You spent the first few minutes silent. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to feel frustrated about her pulling you away from Patri, who had been genuinely nice and accommodating. You wanted to shout at her and tell her off for drunk driving. You just had so much going through your mind that it was becoming static.
"You've been avoiding me," She broke the silence. "Don't try to deny it because I know you have."
You stayed quiet, trying to find a retort but all your mind could fixate on was the fact that she was driving right now. "You're drunk driving."
"Who gives a fuck? We live ten minutes away." She groaned and rolled her eyes. You could see her knuckles turn white as she gripped the wheels tighter with frustration. "See? That's our fucking building complex. You happy?"
You huffed, startled by the out-of-character outburst from the older woman. Alexia was usually so level-headed and calm. You never once saw her this frustrated. Suddenly, you remembered your aunt's short anecdote about Alexia and her fiancé fighting.
Maybe this was that version of Alexia.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Are you just going to keep ignoring me?" Alexia hissed out as you two made your way from the basement parking lot to the apartment elevator.
You stayed silent. Alexia groaned in frustration as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. You were starting to sober up now, not by much but enough to tell that Alexia was absolutely wasted. You could smell the heavy scent of smokey whiskey linger on her breath.
In frustration, once you two got in the elevator, Alexia cornered you. She looked down on you, towering over you. "Do I have to corner you every time I want to talk to you, huh?"
You rolled your eyes. "Why would you wanna talk to me? We're not friends."
Alexia's demeanor went from angry to disappointed. "Then what was all that hanging out everyday about? All that pretending you have to immediately go wash two pairs of pants just so you could be with me and do laundry? Cuddling up to me on the couch? Was that nothing?" She asked with a voice laced with frustration.
You bit your lip and looked down, feeling partly ashamed and upset she had caught up with what you were doing. You knew you were being obvious with making up excuses to see her but you thought that Alexia never seemed to mind... well, until you heard what she said about you that night.
Alexia sighed. Seeing you suddenly get upset just softened her. She put her arms down and instead, gently reached out to you to put a lock of hair behind your ear. The same hand cupped the side of your face. "Look at me."
You slowly and carefully looked up to the taller girl. In this proximity, all you could focus on were the tiny beautiful details on her face — her subtle smile lines around her eyes, the small freckles on her face, the golden specks in her eyes. You wanted to give in so bad but you just felt it was unfair of her to be demanding you explain to her why you've been avoiding her when she hasn't exactly been clear about how she felt about you.
“Please tell me, cariño.” She said in a hushed voice. “Why don’t you want to be around me anymore?”
"Why does it matter that I've been avoiding you?" You muttered in frustration. "I'm just some clingy kid to you, aren't I?"
As if on cue, the doors to the elevator opened to your floor. You gently pushed Alexia aside and walked away. You were barely a step out of the elevator when Alexia grabbed you. She spun you around and her lips were on you again.
Your fists were balled up, ready to protest and push her away. You wanted to demand she be honest with you; you wanted to know why she was being all nice and close to her when you were alone together but calling you "a clingy kid" around some other hot girl.
But your body wanted Alexia more than you wanted clarity. And so, your fists unclenched, your body fell limp in her arms, your mouth parted to allow her to deepen her kiss... and you completely gave in.
⋆˙⟡♡ It felt like Alexia and you were playing a game of who can keep their mouth on the other as you undressed.
You continued to make out as you messily and brashly entered her apartment. She basically slapped the walls blindly to turn on the light switches and just dropped her car keys on the floor. She didn't give a fuck. Alexia was selfish with your kisses and didn't want anything else to take her attention from the way you were kissing her.
But this slow stumbling to her bedroom was not her taste and it was distracting to her. So naturally, the blonde girl put her arms on the back of your legs before lifting you up to carry to her bedroom.
You didn't want to lose this game either. You continued to kiss her as you wrapped your legs around her, holding on to her tightly.
She gently laid you down on her bed before taking off her top, revealing her bare chest. She was so attractive and you wanted to feel every inch of her skin under your fingertips. You bit your lip as you desperately kicked off your shoes before pulling her again towards you, wanting more.
"Fuck, I've wanted to do this for so long." She muttered in between kisses as she pulled your leather skort off. You couldn't get a response out as you were too overstimulated by everything that was happening but the desperation behind your kisses could easily be felt by the older woman without you having to say anything.
Alexia's hands gracefully unzipped your bralette top and shrugged it off your body. She cursed under her breath as she gazed at your breasts, taking them in her hands.
"Fuck, been fantasizing about these perfect tits since I met you." She hummed before taking an erect nipple into her mouth, sucking and licking on it. You moaned out loud and bucked your hips as she continued to pleasure your chest with her mouth.
Alexia held your hips down before pressing two digits against your soaked underwear. She hummed in delight. "Since when was this?"
"Huh?"
She smirked. "I meant, who made you this wet tonight? Me or Patri?"
Apparently, you took too long to answer because she violently pressed two fingers against your soaking, clothed cunt.
"F-fuck, Alexia." You exclaimed as you felt her rub slow but firm circles around your clit. You arched your hips again, desperately wanting to be touched more by Alexia. "I want you inside, please."
Alexia hushed you, keeping a steady yet painfully slow pace. "You think I'd give it away to you so easily after you ignore me and then basically dryhump one of my closest friends in front of me, huh?"
You whimpered, feeling desperate. "Alexia, please, please."
She smirked at the sight of you squirming underneath her, begging to be filled by her. "Then answer me." She ordered.
You felt her press harder, making you moan out again. "Alexia, you did. You made me this wet. Alexia, please." You blubbered out in a pathetic string of desperation. "It was all you. Only you.”
Alexia smiled and leaned into your ear. "Good girl."
With a swift motion, Alexia pushed your panties to the side and began firmly massaging circles against your wet clit. You moaned out loud, feeling yourself warm up in pleasure.
As Alexia quickened her pace and as her mouth found its way back to your hardened nipples, you felt yourself getting close to an orgasm but it felt so unsatisfying without being filled by her. You moaned out. "Alexia, I need you inside please."
You clenched around nothing as Alexia continued to rub against you. You felt your frustration grow. "Alexia, inside please." You whimpered, writhing underneath her.
"Shh, you're so impatient." Alexia scolded. "But since you look so desperate for it..."
Alexia pulled your panties off effortlessly before she let her fingers sink deep into you. You gasped at the sudden thrust of her fingers inside you. She smirked, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. You shut your eyes as you gyrated your hips against her slow-thrusting fingers. You cursed out loud, feeling Alexia carefully curl her fingers to test out your sensitive spots. Her fingers were much longer than yours were and she was making you feel more pleasure than you could ever feel all alone.
Alexia started picking up the pace, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. She cursed when you started moaning out loud and felt your fingers tighten around her two digits. She started to thrust faster, then harder, and now she was curling her fingers with every inward thrust.
She loved watching you undo under her touch. She loved your moans, the feeling of you clenched around her fingers, the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your boobs bounced with her every thrust... you were a sensory delight to her.
"Alexia, oh my fuck..." You exclaimed as you felt her pound her fingers against you. The sound of your slick and your heavy breathing filled the room as Alexia steadily fucked you to the point of not being able to think about anything else but the feeling of her fingers inside you.
Alexia leaned next to your face and planted small kisses in between catching her breath. "I've wanted to fuck this tight pussy since I saw you." She said against your ear. "You looked so cute in that sundress."
You moaned again, gripping Alexia's bare back. "Alexia, faster, please."
Alexia pressed a kiss against your jaw before opening her mouth to leave sloppy kisses on your neck that you were sure would leave marks in the morning. She picked up the pace even more, making you shout out her name as you felt the pleasure ripple throughout your body. 
"Fuck, I'm so close." You moaned out. "Oh my god."
"Scream my name, cariño." She whispered with heavy pants. 
Then, you felt your orgasm rip through you, leaving you shaking under her. "Alexia!" You shouted out as you let yourself arch your back in the intense pleasure.
Alexia let you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out her fingers. She smiled at you warmly before using her thumb to part your lips open. As you did, she stuck her two wet fingers down your mouth. "Suck me dry, cariño."
You enthusiastically sucked on her fingers, making sure to lick and suck all of your cum off of it. The entire time, you made eye contact with Alexia who was biting her lip and cursing under her breath. 
The sight of you taking her long fingers in your warm mouth was making her wet. And, god, the wet sloppy sounds paired with the sensation of your mouth wrapped around them… She cursed under her breath before she pulled her fingers out. You looked at her confused as she made her way to her cabinet, rummaging for something in one of the drawers.
That's when she pulled out a large, transparent dildo attached to a harness. You bit your lip as you watched Alexia put it on her bare body.
Your eyes finally got the chance to admire her more this time. You looked at her muscular figure, her long legs, her firm ass, and of course, her abs. You've never seen someone with abs as glorious as hers before. You wanted to moan out loud at just the sight of her. She was hotter naked than you ever imagined. 
"Checking me out, cariño?" She teased as she adjusted the harness. 
You bit your lip and nodded. She chuckled, feeling elated by the fact that she could see you get wet again just with the sight of her naked body. 
"Well, you can do that on your knees, no?" She asked.
⋆˙⟡♡ Watching you suck her fingers wasn't enough for Alexia, she wanted to watch you take her entire strap in your mouth. She wanted to see you struggle to take its entire length.
"Open wide, pretty." She said in a low voice as she took her thumb again to part your mouth. The sight of you kneeling in front of her with wide, pleading eyes paired with an angle where she could perfectly see your tits... it just made her want to fuck it with being gentle and take your head and use your mouth to fuck her strap with.
But she still tried to be gentle with you. Letting you take in the tip between your lips before gently pushing your head towards her to take in the entire length. You almost gagged at one point but you quickly adjusted to having her length in your mouth. 
When you took in the entire length, Alexia moaned out loud at the sight. "Fuck, suck me off, cariño."
You obeyed and started slowly moving your head as you sucked. You looked up at the older woman who had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she held your head steady. “Yeah, just like that.” She grunted out. “You look so pretty taking me in like that.” The silicone stifled your moan when you finally got a whiff of her alluring musk. You couldn't see under the harness but you were sure Alexia was dripping wet herself.
Alexia grew impatient. “Cariño, tap my leg if it hurts, yeah?" She warned you and you just nodded.
She smirked before firmly grabbing onto your head as she began slowly thrusting into your mouth. When you felt the strap hit the back of your throat, you gagged and felt tears form in your eyes, making Alexia even wetter at the sight of it. "You look so cute, cariño." She grunted out breathlessly.
The base of the dildo was hitting Alexia's clit every time she thrust into your mouth, driving her close to an orgasm. It felt so good watching you suck her strap off while feeling it all on her clit. She moaned as she kept thrusting your head against the entire length, wanting to feel more of the sensation.
She moaned out in a low voice and threw her head back. The sight of her — with her eyes shut and her muscles clenched — as she used your mouth to fuck herself left you dripping on to Alexia's bedroom floor. Finally, you felt Alexia tense up before finally cumming. 
"Good job, baby." She said before guiding your mouth open to take the dildo out, a string of saliva forming from your mouth to the silicone member. She bent down to your height and captured your lips in a kiss. "You did so well. You took me in your mouth so well."
Her compliments filled you with so much warmth. You continued to kiss her, wrapping your arm around her neck. Effortlessly, Alexia lifted you up again and laid you down on the bed. 
She planted a gentle kiss on the side of your head before whispering. "Think you can handle my strap inside of you?"
You didn't even have to think twice about it.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia never was an impatient lover in bed but everything about you made her feral, wanting to fuck you fast and hard just so she can watch you unravel before her over and over again.
Something about the way you orgasmed was addicting for her to watch. She loved watching your body clench, your mouth open wide in pleasure as you moan and whimper and scream her name. It was addicting for her.
Despite that, she still wanted to focus on your pleasure instead of fulfilling her own desires of seeing you cum several times — one after the other — under her.
She watched your pussy slowly take in her entire length as she slowly pushed it inside. It didn't take long until she thrust the entire length inside you, the strap disappearing from her sight. She cursed under her breath as you wriggled and whimpered underneath her as you felt her huge strap completely split you open. She bit her lip as she slowly began to thrust in and out of you.
You were exactly as she fantasized in bed — obedient, submissive, and loud. And god, you were so gorgeous when you were being fucked. She leaned in again to capture your swollen lips into a short kiss before she focused again on fucking you with her strap.
Your moans and whimpers were a symphony to her ears. She felt like she could cum just hearing you absolutely get wrecked by her.
You couldn't control the volume of your voice. Alexia was extremely skilled in bed. Her thrusts were fast and hard but incredibly precise, pressing against your sensitive spot with every push she did inside you. There was too much pleasure rippling through your body to give a fuck about the neighbor's hearing.
And you just couldn't stop moaning out her name. It felt so good in your mouth to say it over and over again. 
"Yeah, keep moaning out for me, cariño," Alexia said as she picked up the pace of her thrusts. 
You felt a tad of pain as she became rougher with her thrusts but it was a good kind of pain. Alexia grunted as she held on to your waist with her hands. 
It didn't take long until your pussy was clenching around her strap and you were practically shaking as your orgasm built up for the second time that night.
"You're all mine," Alexia slurred out in between heavy breathing. "This pussy is only mine."
You moaned out in agreement. "Yes, Alexia, yours. I'm yours."
With one strong thrust, you came undone. You screamed out her name again for the nth time before falling limp underneath her. Alexia pulled out and gave you a kiss. 
You couldn't find the energy or brain power to speak. So, you just held Alexia close, your heavy breathing synchronizing with each other. You sighed.
You just knew then and there that you've fallen hard for Alexia Putellas.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to an empty bed, blinking a few times as the soreness in your body set in. You groaned, stretching, and only then did you realize you were still naked. Flushing, you glanced around, noticing Alexia must be in the kitchen from the faint sounds of cooking.
Quickly, you found your underwear on the floor and pulled it on, then grabbed one of Alexia’s football shirts from her closet to slip into.
With a soft smile, you tiptoed over to her and wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “Good morning,” you murmured.
She chuckled, “Careful, cariño. Sneak up on me like that, and I’ll cut my finger instead of this tomato.”
You hummed, ignoring her and just hugging her tighter. "Breakfast?" 
She laughed. "I think someone enjoyed last night way too much to realize it's already noon." She smiled. "This is already lunch."
You blushed and let go of Alexia, getting out of the way of her cooking. You sat down on the counter and watched her do her thing in the kitchen. She looked like she already got up and took a bath as she was wearing new clothes.
"You took a bath without me?" You jokingly asked with feigned disappointment and a pout.
Alexia smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't stand the thought of waking you up when you looked so pretty sleeping naked in my bed. I'll be sure to invite you to join me next time." She glanced at you again, realizing you were wearing another one of her older Barça shirts. "Hmm, you seem to like wearing my kits, huh?"
You smiled. "Love your name on me."
Alexia's lips curled into a smile before giving you a peck on the lips. "You can have it. I just love seeing it on you," She set down the cooking supplies and leaned in to give you a deeper kiss. "But I love seeing me inside you more."
You playfully smacked her arm. She continued to cook as you picked on the leftover tomatoes on the cutting board to snack on them. 
You hummed playfully. "So, Ale..." You started.
"Hmm?" She replied, focusing on cooking.
"So... last night you said you thought about fucking me when you first saw me..." You brought up with a playful smirk.
Alexia chuckled. "Your turn to tease me, huh?"
"I'm just asking." 
"Well, of course, I did..." She responded. "Couldn't stop thinking of your little lace undies."
You blushed, recalling how you fell on your face and exposed yourself to her. "Hey, you're teasing me now again."
She laughed, stirring the sauce. “You’re just easy and fun to tease.” As she finished, she dished up two plates of pasta, setting them on the table.
"Hmm, then what was all that 'you're so young' and 'you remind me of my little sister figure' talk about." You brought it up, casually.
Alexia hummed as she placed a healthy portion of food on two plates. She placed it on the dining table, contemplating your question. She finally headed up to you, taking your hand and leading you to the dining table.
As she sat, she took a deep breath. "Well... I didn't want to scare you off just in case you weren't into me." She said. "And... I guess I was trying to remind myself that you were — I mean, you are — too young for me."
You hummed, giving her a reassuring smile. “Our age gap isn’t that big, you know. I’m an adult.” You reassured her and partly, yourself. 
She smiled gently but shrugged. “I know, but we’re in different stages of our lives, you know? It made me hesitate.” She explained. 
You nodded, feeling her words sink in. After a pause, you asked. “And with that tattooed girl… why’d you call me a ‘clingy little kid’ that night?”
Alexia’s face grew serious. “That was just a dumb mistake." She said, pausing to use a paper towel to wipe her mouth. "I was drunk, and I was with my ex—I hadn’t seen her in a long time. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel if you heard it."
“Oh… was that your ex-fiancée?” You asked cautiously.
Alexia shook her head. “No, no, my ex-fiancée and I would never hang out." She chuckled. "That was Jenni. We’re good friends and we were just catching up after not seeing each other for long... but yeah… I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.”
You nodded slowly, a lot of questions swirling in your mind—questions about her past, what last night meant, if your age still bothered her. But you decided to let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment. 
⋆˙⟡♡ "You ghosted me for a month and now, you're telling me that you're dating a pro soccer player?" Your best friend Ashley shouted over FaceTime. "Are you nuts?!" 
You hushed her as you stood from your bed to shut the door. "My aunt is right outside my room."
"Who cares? She's cool and probably would be gushing with me right now if she knew!" Ashley exclaimed. 
You chuckled. "Just shhh. I haven't told anyone about Alexia cause we aren't really dating."
Ash's face fell in shock. "Huh? Then what are you doing?"
You sighed before going on to tell her the whole story — the day you fell in front of her, the grocery runs, the night you saw her with Jenni, the night at the club, and of course, last night when you slept together. Ash was practically exclaiming and shouting every other minute in shock and excitement.
"Okay, okay, girl, I just looked her up and hot damn, you're telling me you slept with THAT?" Ash pointed her phone camera to her MacBook screen which displayed a photo of Alexia celebrating in her sports bra during a football match. 
You chuckled. "Oh... Ash, her abs... they were so firm and hot up close. I felt like I was going crazy."
The two of you geeked over how hot Alexia was for a few minutes before calming down. Ashley sighed. "But babe, like, I want you to be careful still cause like... she hasn't really said that she likes you yet, right?"
You blinked and thought about it and realized Ashley seemed to be right. She did say she wanted you and she did say you were "all hers" in bed and that she thought about you sexually from the moment you met... but there were no explicit mentions of her feelings.
"Hmm, yeah, I could read from your expression that she hasn't..." Ash commented. "I know she's sweet and fun but just be cautious, okay? I can't afford to lose my best friend to another gap year cause of another heartbreak." She joked.
You chuckled weakly. "No, no, I mean, I'm taking it slow. I'm not that invested yet." You lied. You were pretty much all in with Alexia at this point.
Ashley nodded. "Okay, that's good. Just enjoy having fun with your older woman but just be careful. Okay, babes?"
You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."
Ash hummed and stayed silent for a beat before asking, "So... about this Patri girl, I just googled her too, and wow..." 
You chuckled and continued bantering with Ashley, trying to push your insecurities to the back of your head. 
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your phone ringing. You blinked your eyes open and took a glance at the phone. "Hmmm," You groaned out before answering. "Yeah?"
It was Alexia.
"Cariño, come over, please." Her voice was low and sultry. You hummed into the phone mic, sleepily. Alexia chuckled at the sound of it. "Aw, did I wake you up, my love? I'm so sorry."
"Hmm, yeah. Is everything okay?" You mumbled out.
She had a short chuckle. "I just need to taste you, cariño. I need you so bad." Her voice came out in a needy, low tone that made your insides churn.
You took a deep breath and blinked the remaining sleepiness away. "Okay, I'll just get dressed up." You said with a yawn. "I'm still in my pajamas."
"No, baby, I'm undressing you anyway. Just come over, cariño." She begged. You smiled at the sound of her voice; she sounded so desperate and needy.
"Okay, got it." You chuckled.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia wasn't lying because as soon as you entered her apartment, your clothes were practically off your body and on the floor.
Alexia had pinned you against the front door, too impatient to even take you to her bedroom. You watched the blonde woman kneel in front of you as she pressed her mouth on your core, licking and flicking her tongue against the most sensitive part of your clit.
You grabbed her head and rocked your hips against her mouth, making Alexia hum in pleasure. She spread her tongue flat against your wetness, taking it all in before focusing again on your clit.
"Fuck, I could do this everyday." You muttered out.
⋆˙⟡♡ And you did do it... almost every day.
It could be early in the morning, in the middle of the day, or even late at night. Alexia would text you and you always found your way to her bed... or her couch, or her floor, her shower, her kitchen counter, her table. You two fucked so much that you felt like you were losing brain cells with how she left you so mind-fucked every time.
⋆˙⟡♡ On more than one occasion, you wanted to bring up your feelings for Alexia and how you wanted more than just sex out of your relationship but you always chickened out.
You figured you could talk about it some other time.
⋆˙⟡♡ Yet, the opportunity never really arose. Whenever you two were together, nothing seemed to leave your lips except her name and a string of incoherent moans. It was fun and exciting but sometimes, it also left you feeling insecure about your place in her life.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Look who's back home at 5 in the morning," Your aunt jokingly tutted her tongue as she watched you enter the apartment in clothes you borrowed from Alexia. You thanked heavens you didn't wear one of her kits with her name on it or else, you would have been figured out. "And is it safe to assume you didn't come from the grocery with that heavy cream I asked to buy you two days ago?"
You blushed as you saw your aunt judging you as she sipped her morning coffee. "Hi, Aunty..." You said softly. "I can go get that later once the supermarket opens. I'm sorry I totally forgot about it."
She shook her head. "How did you go from doing all the errands like a maniac to doing none of it?" She joked. "See, I don't mind that you're running around with some girl... clearly, it's making you happy."
You bit your lip and tucked a hair behind your ear. She continued, "Just make sure you're doing errands like you agreed to, or else I'm shipping you back to your momma."
You nodded. "Sorry, auntie."
⋆˙⟡♡ "Come over, cariño 😚" The message notification popped up on the top of your screen as you were reading the list of things your aunt wanted you to pick up from the grocery.
You sighed and texted Alexia, telling her you had to do some errands. You smirked as you read her reply. "Okay, I'll drive you there only if you agree to ride my face later."
You rolled your eyes and chuckled.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had her hand on your thigh as she drove to the nearby supermarket, gently feeling your skin as she moved it up and down your thigh.
"Alexia, if you keep doing that, we won't end up getting the groceries." You said as you held her hand steady on your thigh. She smirked at you and said, "I'm fine with that."
You chuckled and ignored her.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't get her hands off of you. She'd have her hands on your waist as you tried to get stuff from the shelves. She would kiss you on the cheek randomly. Even as you were pushing the cart, she would have her body pressed behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you pushed the cart together.
Thankfully, there weren't many people but the people who were there were taking notice of how clingy and affectionate Alexia was being.
"Cariño, you smell so good. I wanna smell you all over and put my face against your..." Alexia whispered in your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder. You playfully elbowed her and swatted her away.
"Ale, people can hear you." You said with an eye roll.
She hummed as she pressed her lips against your ear. "Baby, I just want you so bad. I don't care if anyone hears about how much I want to..."
"Alexia?" A voice from the far end of the aisle called. Alexia practically jumped away from you as soon as you two heard the voice. You turned your attention to the tall, blonde girl at the end of the aisle.
Alexia cursed under her breath but raised her hand to greet the girl who came walking towards you. "Frido, hey." Alexia greeted, straightening herself up. "What's up?"
The tall girl hugged Alexia and then turned her attention to you. "And who is this pretty girl you're with, Alexia?" She smiled at you before turning to Alexia with raised eyebrows.
Alexia looked at you with a panicked expression before turning back to Frido. "Oh, she's my neighbor. I gave her a ride to the grocery." She explained before changing the topic. "And who are you here with?"
Alexia and the taller girl, who you inferred was a teammate, started chatting a bit more but all you could think about was how Alexia introduced you
⋆˙⟡♡ After you loaded her car with groceries, you immediately headed to the passenger seat and slammed the door behind you.
Alexia had taken notice of your change in demeanor. She entered the car and looked at you with a confused look. "Why are you mad?"
You hummed and ignored her. She sighed and began driving. She tried to put a hand on your thigh but you swatted her away, which seemed to piss her off.
"What's your problem?" She snapped.
"I don't know, maybe neighbors just don't touch each other's thighs like that." You retorted, annoyed.
Alexia groaned. "Don't tell me you're mad at me because of that."
"Why wouldn't I be mad, Alexia?" You responded with a raised voice. "You and I have been fucking for weeks. We cuddle. We have dinner. We kiss and fuck and spend so much time together. Not to mention that before all that, we were already practically together all the time... and I'm just your neighbor?"
Alexia's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't see the big deal. Frido's my co-worker and I just don't feel like airing out my sex life randomly to people I work with."
You groaned. "Don't you get it? You don't need to tell people we're fucking. You can just say we're dating, seeing each other... I don't know. Even just calling me your friend is better than being called your neighbor."
Alexia clenched her jaw and shook her head in disbelief. "This is the problem with dating younger girls..." She muttered under her breath.
This just drove you over the edge. "What does my age have to do with this?" You shouted as you glared at her. "Last time I checked, you were the one who said our age difference didn't matter to you."
Alexia groaned. "You're just being so immature. Why does it matter so much what I said to Frido? She's just my co-worker. Of course, if some other girl came over to flirt with me, I'd say I'm seeing someone already. That's when the distinction matters."
"How would you react if someone I knew from school came over and I just called you my neighbor?" You retorted.
"I wouldn't give a fuck," She responded. "Cause I'm mature enough to know it doesn't matter."
You snapped. "Well, maybe that's cause you don't actually care about me." You could feel your voice crack as you said it but you stopped yourself from getting emotional.
Alexia groaned and grew more exasperated. "See? This is your problem. I don't air out my personal business and suddenly you think I don't care about you..."
"Well, do you, Alexia?" You stared at her, with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "All you ever want to do now is fuck. You don't ever tell me how you feel about me. You never even mentioned once that you liked me... and I can't recall the last time you complimented me in a way that wasn't about my body or looks. You might care but not enough."
Alexia groaned but tried to compose her thoughts before responding to you, not wanting to frustrate you even more. "Obviously, I like you but I just..." She trailed off. "I don't know if I'm ready for what you want."
You looked at the older woman with an incredulous look. You were at a loss for words. You felt a tear fall but you just wiped it off and shook your head, dryly chuckling.
She parked the car and took a deep breath. "Cariño, just because I'm not ready to commit yet... doesn't mean I don't care or like you." She explained patiently as she turned to look at you. "I just... think what we have now is good. Please, can we just calm down?"
You stayed silent, waiting for her to tell you she liked you more than just physically or to tell her you mattered to her. You didn't know exactly what you wanted to hear but you just wanted reassurance that you weren't just some secret fuck buddy to her.
Alexia groaned exasperatedly at your silence before unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning towards you, grabbing your face to kiss you. But instead of kissing her, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"Goodbye, Alexia." And with that, you left.
⋆˙⟡♡ After your frustrating exchange with Alexia, you demanded your groceries and insisted on carrying them up yourself, not wanting to talk to her for a while. 
So, with two arms loaded with grocery bags, you clumsily stormed into the apartment, causing a couple of things to fall out of the bag. You groaned exasperatedly. "Fuck this shit."
"Guess the coupon didn't work out at the supermarket, huh?" You nearly jumped at the voice. You turned to see your aunt sitting on the couch, sipping coffee. 
You sighed deeply, not answering as you were still distraught over the realization that after all this time, Alexia never returned your feelings. You doubted yourself, thinking maybe you were immature and childish for reacting like that but you couldn't help but be overwhelmed with insecurities. 
Your aunt took note of your gloomy demeanor as she stood up from the couch to help you out with the groceries. "Darling, are you alright?" She said as she took the bags from you.
You looked up at your aunt and just shook your head. She immediately put the bags down on the nearby counter and took you in for a hug.
⋆˙⟡♡ As you unloaded your groceries with your aunt, you also decided it was time to let her know about what was going on. She was always the cool aunt, growing up. She was never judgmental or preachy; she often said something like "How could I be judgemental when I was way worse than you when I was a kid?" So, you figured that if there was anyone you could go to for advice, it would be her.
You kept the details vague though, not totally willing to disclose the fact that the girl you were seeing was Alexia. You just said you met an older woman while walking Ruby and you two hit it off. You recounted all the memories of you two hanging out, doing groceries, walking, or even just doing laundry.
"It felt domestic, at some point." You told your aunt. "It felt like we were dating even if we hadn't hinted that we liked each other. It felt even more intimate than when I was with my ex, y'know. It really felt... I don't know, close to her."
Your aunt nodded, understandingly. She continued to listen as you told her about running into Jenni and what Alexia said. Then, you told her about the nightclub incident, keeping details and identities vague. "And while I was dancing with the girl I met at the counter, she suddenly grabbed me and pulled me away and dragged me out of the club."
Your aunt's eyes widened. "She did what?!" She exclaimed, almost comically loud. You chuckled and continued, "Yeah, and I got really mad at her for it but then she suddenly kissed me."
You continued telling your aunt about the kiss and how you finally got to admit your attraction for each other. Then, you told her how started spending your time together in a more intimate manner, completely leaving behind the cutesy domestic aspect you've grown accustomed to.
You cringed a bit, talking to your aunt about your sex life but she didn't seem that bothered. "So, you went from playing house together to just fucking each other's brains out, got it." Your aunt said, making you chuckle.
You then tell her the reason as to why you were alone and angrily hauling paper bags full of grocery. She nodded along, seeming to be in deep thought. When you finished telling her your story, you sighed. 
"So, yeah... I just got so annoyed by the whole 'neighbor' comment, the fact that she said I was immature because of my age, and how she didn't even bother to clarify that she liked me beyond the physical aspect. There was no reassurance that I could mean more to her than just someone to have fun with." You explained. "And when we argued, it felt like she knew exactly what my insecurities were with our relationship — well, situationship — and just had to pick at those."
Your aunt nodded, understandingly. "If it was just the grocery thing with her co-worker, I would have said you were acting immature too but I get that it was all the other factors together that just made you snap." She sympathized. 
You nodded. "Yeah, I think I would have calmed down if she didn't make the comment about my age. It just felt like a pick at my deepest insecurity with our relationship, that I'm too young and immature for her... and the fact that she didn't want to commit or even just reassure me about us."
You sighed deeply. "It just made me feel so unsure of myself, which I was already feeling ever since we made our relationship mostly physical."
Your aunt sighed. "Well, if you ask me, I think it's better she showed you her intentions now than later, right?" You nodded in response.
"So, just rest a few days, and assess your feelings. Don't shut her out completely," Your aunt said. "I think you should give her a chance without her knowing that you're giving her a chance, if that makes sense. Just wait a couple days and if she reaches out to you and apologizes and tells you that she values you as a person, and possibly, a future partner, then go for it."
You sighed, thankful for your aunt's advice. You took her in for a hug, feeling comfort with the fact that you could really run to her with your problems. 
Your aunt patted your back. "I'm sure you'd figure it out. Besides, I feel like she'd cool off in just a few days and apologize. Athletes just tend to have a reactive temper, I guess."
You froze at her comment. "But I never told you..."
She chuckled. "Well, your reaction just told me now."
⋆˙⟡♡ That very night, Alexia texted you just as you were about to get in bed. 
"Cariño, come over." You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what this text meant and you weren't exactly in the mood to fuck and forget about it.
Another text. "Let's make up, please. I miss you." 
"Cariño, are you still mad?" 
"I'll make it up to you pls."
You sighed, not a single text about talking it out or apologizing for how she acted. You put your phone on silent and just decided you'd reply once she texts you for more than a booty call.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were on your early morning run with Ruby when your phone started ringing. You rolled your eyes at the caller ID. It was Alexia.
As soon as the rings stopped, you got a text. "Come over, Cariño." 
You rolled your eyes again. Is this the only phrase she's capable of? What happened to "hey" or "i'm sorry"? 
As if reading your mind, you get another text. "I'm sorry."
You hummed in satisfaction but figured that you still needed a bit more time to think it out and consider your emotions. You didn't want to talk it out while you weren't ready.
⋆˙⟡♡ Late at night, you considered messaging Alexia that you two should talk but you still felt a bit of uneasiness and uncertainty with it. Plus, you felt that if you went to Alexia at this time of night, she'd get the wrong message. 
⋆˙⟡♡ But apparently, even if you headed to Alexia's apartment now, you wouldn't find her there anyway.
You squinted at the Instagram story that the nearby lesbian club posted and saw a familiar figure in the background of one of the videos. You swore it was Alexia.
So, you did some digital investigating. Since Alexia was never the type to post on social media. You looked through Patri's Instagram story. Nothing. You went to Mapi's Instagram. Nothing. It was only on Ingrid's account that you found something of interest.
It was just a video of Ingrid with her arm around Mapi as they sang along to a song you weren't familiar with but in the background, you could see Alexia chatting up a shorter brunette girl.
You figured you might be overreacting but you couldn't help but feel jealous and annoyed. You were here, mulling over your relationship while she was out partying and maybe flirting with other girls.
The rational thing was to consider maybe it was just another night out with teammates, enjoying the break from football. But a part of you just felt annoyed and jealous. 
I'll sleep it off, you thought. If she messages tomorrow, whatever it is, I'll reply that we should talk then. No use in delaying it anymore.
⋆˙⟡♡ Tomorrow came and there was no message. You pouted and went about your errands. 
Afternoon, nothing. Dinner time, nothing.
You practically stalked the entire Barça team but most of them didn't post anything aside from Ingrid who just posted a couple more photos with Mapi and another with Alexia. Nothing too incriminating.
Still, you couldn't help but get annoyed that she gave up trying to reach out to you.
⋆˙⟡♡ The next day came, and then the next, and the next, and no message from the blonde Catalan.
You felt like you were reverting to your "bed rotting and mopping around with Ruby" routine as the days passed. You wanted to talk to Alexia so bad and you wanted to kiss her and hold her but you just knew deep inside, that it would be better if she made the first move in having a conversation about your relationship.
You sighed as you tapped through Instagram stories again, having nothing better to do. You paused when you reached Patri's Instagram story. 
After that night at the club, you haven't exactly reached out to her considering your situation with Alexia but... Patri was always at the back of your mind.
You hesitated, pausing to consider. Would it be messy to hit up Alexia's teammate after everything we've done?
You bit your lip. Well, Alexia and I never dated and as far as anyone is concerned, there's nothing between us. No one, except maybe Frido, has a clue that we're romantic. 
You corrected yourself. Romantic? Am I insane? There was nothing actually romantic about it. It was purely physical, especially towards the end. 
You sighed. I just want someone who wants to date me and invest in me romantically. Is that too much to ask?
Your night flashed back to the club with Patri. While you didn't get the chance to talk much, she seemed attentive and interested in everything you were saying. Plus, she was also incredibly attractive. It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.
But the thought of Alexia lingered. You knew that it might be unfair to her — how you never talked it out with her while sliding into her teammate's DMs. It could really hurt her.
...But then again, she never really made the effort to talk it out anyway. And, if you were keeping count, she hurt you first. You take a deep breath. 
Fuck it. Alexia's not my girlfriend. I can do whatever the fuck I want.
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn't expect Patri to respond until the next day since you were certain she had a bunch of other DMs from fans.
But it didn't even take half an hour for her to reply, already talking about where she'd take you out on a date. You smiled, grateful that she was willing to still date you even after what happened.
⋆˙⟡♡ Patri took you to a tapas place. Even if you were the one who asked her out, she insisted that she pick you up; she even brought you a delicate bouquet of pink and white flowers. 
She was basically everything a girl could ask for, opening doors for you and letting you sit first, being polite and attentive to you
It didn't hurt that her playful flirtatiousness from the club was still intact. When she met you at the lobby, she gave you a whistle, reacting favorably to the tight dress you were wearing. She also seemed to love guiding you by putting a hand behind your back or your waist. You felt it was a good balance of being polite and being subtly flirty and sensual. 
⋆˙⟡♡ As you were eating and drinking, Patri finally brought up the single thing you didn't want to talk about at all.
"Okay, so I've got to ask." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why did Alexia drag you out of the club that night? I was confused cause I didn't even see you two talk before that and she was suddenly dragging you away from me. I asked Mapi about it but she said she was too busy cuddling up with Ingrid to pay attention to anything else."
You sighed. You knew this question was inevitable but you still hated having to talk about it. "Alexia is actually my neighbor." You responded.
Patri nodded and chuckled, still visibly confused. "Okay? And?"
You chuckled back. "Well, we hung out sometimes and she told me that I reminded her of your younger teammate, Jana..." You continued. You weren't exactly lying but you did feel like you were circumventing the truth. "So, I guess she was protective of me somehow? I don't know..."
Patri nodded. "Hmm, did she tell you anything about me?"
You shook your head. "Uh, no... she was pretty drunk so I don't think she was thinking straight that night."
Patri paused and took a swig of her sangria. For a moment, you thought she'd seen through your lie version of the story. 
Patri sighed. "I still think what she did was so random but... I guess, it might be because she doesn't trust me enough in the relationship department." She chuckled.
Patri briefly explained that she once dated another younger teammate and it ultimately ended up sour when Patri grew bored of the relationship and broke up with the girl, leaving the younger player distraught. It affected the team dynamic for a while but she said it didn't take them long to recover from it. 
"I figured that maybe that could be the reason." Patri nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "She didn't reply to me when I asked but I mean, Alexia barely checks her phone so..." She laughed.
You took a deep sigh of relief. She didn't figure you out; she seemed more concerned about the fact that Alexia might have warned you that she wasn't ideal dating material. "Yeah, I guess that's it... she was drunk and we didn't exactly talk about it after." Again, you weren't exactly lying when you said that.
Patri nodded. "But I hope you don't let that change the way you see me. I swear, that whole thing was just blown out of proportion. I wasn't being mean to her; I just try to be honest with the people I date." She explained with a shrug. "I mean, what's the point of lying?"
You felt a lump form in your throat but just forced a smile, nodding.
⋆˙⟡♡ In the next week, you spent more time with Patri, having lunches or going for random café runs. When you were apart, you were still texting each other stupid memes and TikToks or just chatting about everything under the sun.
It was fun being around her. She was so funny and easy-going. It felt like dating a friend. But the best part of it was that, even if you just started dating, she was very forward about how she felt about you.
⋆˙⟡♡   You went on a random afternoon date to a cute gelato place you passed by once on one of your walks with Ruby. You briefly mentioned it to Patri in a passing conversation but she remembered and took you there the next day. 
You hummed in delight when you tasted the pistachio ice cream. "Oh, this is so good." You exclaimed. She smiled at you and looked at you with soft, admiring eyes.
You blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," She chuckled. "I just... like spending my time with you. I think I really like you..."
You smiled back. "I like spending time with you too."
She paused to eat a spoonful of ice cream. "Who knew that the hot girl I was grinding on from the bar would have me acting all nervous to tell her that I like her?" She joked. 
You laughed and shook your head at her silly statement. With Patri, everything seemed easy. No doubts or second thoughts. She was always quick to remind you she liked you, not leaving any room for questioning.
Yet, deep inside, you could still feel yourself yearning for Alexia. Your relationship might have been tumultuous and uncertain but she made you feel things. Everything felt fiery and passionate and overwhelming... and you just craved for that intensity again.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Okay, do you want pizza or something else?" You asked Patri as you lay on her couch, scrolling through food options on the Deliveroo app. 
Patri lifted your feet up and sat down, placing them on her lap. She rubbed your feet as she contemplated her options. "Hmm, are you on the menu?" 
You chuckled and playfully pushed her with your foot. "You're so gross, Patri." 
She continued rubbing your feet. You realized that you have been seeing Patri for almost two weeks already and you still haven't done anything beyond kissing. You reasoned out to yourself that it may be because you two usually spent your time outside her place but you knew deep inside, something else was holding you back.
"Hmm," Patri hummed loudly. 
"Yes, Miss Guijarro? Is there a problem?" You asked, looking away from your phone to give her an eyebrow raise.  
She shook her head. "Nothing... you just didn't answer the question..."
You smiled in amusement. "I did... I said you were gross." You retorted. Patri pouted and gave you a disappointed face which you just laughed at. You rolled your eyes. "Hmm... ask me again after dinner."
Patri practically beamed. "Okay, just order whatever pizza then. I don't want to delay dinner any further." She joked.
You chuckled at her silliness. "So, what movie did you say we should watch again?"
"I was going to recommend that we watch this horror movie, The Woman in Black, but I don't think that will set the mood I want to set." Patri chuckled. You nodded, recalling the movie and how Alexia mentioned that it was recommended by a teammate. 
Of course, it was Patri. She did say she loved horror movies.
You nodded. "Let's just watch something else. I hate horror movies." And being reminded of Alexia.
She chuckled. "Yeah, okay, my teammates didn't like it too. Pina and Jana practically hated me when I made them watch it when they came over." She recalled before turning to you to smile. "You really should meet them. They're fun. You'd love them."
You just nodded along, feeling hesitant. You didn't know if it was a good idea meeting any more of their teammates, scared that maybe Alexia had mentioned something to someone and word would get out about this whole complex situation.
So, you changed the topic. "Okay, got us a large pizza with some soda. That good?"
⋆˙⟡♡ You and Patri were going out on another date at a new club near her place. It started off well. You tried some unique cocktails and got to chatting about your college life and Patri's own experience back when she was still studying.
Two drinks down and you were already starting to feel tipsy but you figured that was no problem. After all, you were with Patri who was responsible enough to take care of you if you did end up wasted.
In the middle of your conversation, Patri paused to check her phone. "Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind but I told Jana that she should come over. She's in the area and she said before that she wanted to meet you."
Your heart dropped. "What?"
"Jana, my teammate." Patri clarified, speaking in a higher volume as the music had gotten a bit louder. "She's really fun so no worries."
You blinked, feeling a bit anxious. "You told her about me? She's going here?" 
Patri looked confused. "Yeah? She's my friend. Don't you want to meet her?"
You sighed and started to overthink. You felt like it was irrational to feel this nervous about meeting her teammate.
You didn't want to admit it but deep down, you knew that if you met Patri's friends and teammates, it would solidify to them that you were Patri's girl. 
The fact that Mapi and Ingrid already saw you two flirting back in the club didn't help. Now, a bunch of other people in her team knew about you. Soon, it would be solidified to everyone that you were Patri's... and somehow, you didn't want that. 
Because that meant you were erasing your chance with Alexia. What if, at the end of it all, you decided to choose Alexia? Then, it would just seem like you were a slut or that you used Patri.
But you did use Patri. You used her to forget about Alexia.
The nagging voice in your head repeated over and over, making you feel overwhelmed with the gnawing feeling of guilt. 
"Do you not want to meet my friends?" Patri asked again, bringing your attention back to her.
"I- I just..." You started getting frustrated, not with her but with yourself. "I don't think I want to do that right now."
She looked at you confused. "Why?"
You shook your head. "I don't know. I just... why would you tell them about me?" You asked in a raised tone. It was sinking into you just how rude you sounded; you could have made up some excuse about wanting to spend time alone. But you just had to be too emotional and now, it was too late to take your words back.
The calm expression on Patri's face turned to that of disbelief. "Am I not supposed to tell my friends about the girl I'm dating?"
You sighed. You knew she was in the right. In any other normal scenario, it wouldn't be such a big deal to introduce your date to a friend.  But, you just couldn't rationalize to yourself why you felt so annoyed and anxious about it. "I just... I'm not ready for this Patri. I'm sorry."
Patri tried chasing after you but you waved her off. You were too overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts you could never explain to her. 
⋆˙⟡♡ The combination of alcohol, anxiety, and guilt had left you shedding tears inside the taxi cab on the way to your apartment.
You liked Patri. You really liked her a lot.
But... with Alexia, it was different. She made you feel like your heart was doing flip-flops. She made you feel so warm from the inside. You don't think anything can replace the feeling of being with Alexia. She was... something else.
You loved the way she took care of you — cooking you meals, carrying everything for you, making you feel good. You loved her kisses, her touch. You loved how she looked at you; you couldn't put into words how Alexia Putellas' gaze could make someone feel. 
It hurt admitting all of this to yourself because you knew Alexia never felt the same about you.
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⋆˙⟡♡ After the grocery incident, Alexia felt annoyed and angry at you for blowing up the way you did. She felt like it was such an overreaction to what she said. 
But most of all, she hated how you questioned her feelings for you. After all the casual dates, the daily walks with your dogs, the grocery or laundry runs, the nights spent cuddling, the breakfasts she'd thanklessly prepar for you as you slept soundly in her bed just cause you mentioned you loved waking up to the smell of pancakes... she felt it was overlooked. 
She did like you. She liked you a lot, more than anyone she's ever messed around with. But she wasn't ready for a relationship with you, or anyone at all. She just never desired that ever again.
Not after Olga left her.
She didn't know if she could ever recover from another heartbreak like that. She didn't know if she had enough strength left in her to handle another failed relationship.
⋆˙⟡♡ When Olga left Alexia, she felt like she could never be with someone like that again. She hated the rollercoaster of a relationship; she felt like she'd grown too tired of it already.
She usually settled for meaningless hook-ups, the occasional one-night stand. She was content knowing that that was the closest thing to intimacy she would get ever again.
⋆˙⟡♡ That was until you came along with your sundresses, your clumsiness, your sunny demeanor. She found it hilarious how you would find so many ways to be around her. It was becoming blatantly obvious you had a crush on her.
⋆˙⟡♡ Sure, she first thought of you as just someone she could hook up with; the physical attraction was there from the start. But you were so... innocent, oblivious to her touches and comments, her advances. She figured that maybe you weren't really into her like that, maybe you just loved being around her.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she let it play out. You'd go on your morning walks, share a coffee at a café, go to the grocery, do the laundry... she enjoyed it a lot until she realized she might be developing feelings again for someone who might not like her like that. 
⋆˙⟡♡ And so she decided to slowly detach herself from you, not seeing you for a few days.
The only problem with trying to detach physically was that she never considered how you still managed to linger in her brain. She couldn't get you out of her head. You were in everything she saw. 
Making a cup of coffee? Oh, this was the brand of oat milk you liked. Doing laundry? Oh, this was the top you thought was cute on her. Even Nala was all out of sorts, possibly also missing Ruby. 
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she tried other things.
She called up her ex, Jenni, who happened to be in town for drinks and perhaps, some good old fun. It worked for a while. Jenni always knew how to get your mind off of things
But then, just before she entered her apartment that night, she saw you, looking so cute in your pajamas with sleepy eyes and Ruby by your side.
And suddenly, you were imprinted on her mind again. 
⋆˙⟡♡ Even when she was waking up to a debilitating hangover, all she could think about was if she was going to see you again that day.
She dreaded the thought of seeing you, knowing it would only remind her that she was growing attached to your presence. Yet, strangely, she also craved your presence. She missed walking your dogs together. She missed seeing you in your cute dresses, how you'd blush when she called you pretty.
She knew that she was risking getting further attached to you if she did spend more time with you but not being around you was so much worse than that.
⋆˙⟡♡ So, she walked Nala that afternoon during the time you'd usually take Ruby out for her poo time. But you weren't there. 
She'd go to the laundromat several times with just a couple shirts in hand, hoping to see you fussing with things that shrunk in the dryer. Again, nothing.
She'd send you a text about something dumb like the supermarket near you stocking up on your favorite oat milk but it was left on delivered.
She was getting frustrated. She did start the whole avoiding thing but the way you did it was so unsubtle, especially after she figured out that you were taking Ruby on walks at ungodly hours of the day. It was blatantly obvious you were avoiding her.
It was a sign for her to erase any thought of pursuing you, whether it be for some casual fun or something more. She felt you were so immature to be avoiding her like this, and she didn't have the energy to deal with that.
⋆˙⟡♡ When Mapi sent an invitation to the team group chat for a night out at Manuelas, Alexia was the first to say yes.
She figured she might as well get drunk and get laid that weekend, instead of staying at home wondering when the 22-year-old down the hallway would come out of her apartment to walk her dog. She felt so juvenile and naive thinking about shit like that.
She knew that going to a club, surrounded by hot girls would be enough to forget about you.
⋆˙⟡♡ But as soon she entered the club with her teammates, she saw you.
You were unbelievably close to some girl with her back turned on Alexia. She grew angry at the thought of you flirting with someone else. She grew even more frustrated when Mapi leaned over to whisper, "Looks like Patri already found her meal for tonight."
She was basically gritting her teeth at that point.
⋆˙⟡♡ She hated how you touched Patri's arm with unspoken intentions and hated how she could hear you laugh from two meters away at Patri's corny jokes. She hated how you barely acknowledged her even when she approached you, not even a single smile or nod. 
⋆˙⟡♡ She couldn't help herself that night. She spent several weeks trying to give you all these hints and advances just for you to reciprocate none of it. But here you were, grinding against her teammate who you barely even knew.
Soon, the alcohol in her system had taken over and the only agenda on her mind that night was you.
⋆˙⟡♡ One night with you was enough to drive Alexia feral. There was something about you that was addicting, something that drove her insane. 
She's slept with a lot of beautiful girls, and girls who were amazing in bed. But nothing compared to you.
⋆˙⟡♡ She had to have a taste of you every day, sometimes even more than just once a day.
She was a woman captivated. Even when you weren't around, all she could think about was pleasuring you and what she'd do to you as soon as you were around.
⋆˙⟡♡ One night, you were heavily making out on her bed.
She was slowly grinding her knee against your core, gearing up to take control again. But this time, you pulled away. "Alexia, can I make you feel good this time?" You looked at her with wide eyes.
She smiled at you. "Cariño, I already feel good just watching you." She tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. She planted a kiss against your temple. "Come on, just lay back down; I'll take care of you."
You pouted at her with puppy eyes. Her weakness. "Please? I can't promise that I'll be as good as you but I can try." You pleaded.
She chuckled. "No one is as good as me, cariño." She sighed, pausing to give you a kiss. "But if you insist."
You were overly excited, spreading her legs clumsily before diving in. She hummed as she felt your tongue press against her, lapping her entire core in such a careful and calculating manner.
Once you were more comfortable and familiar with her, you wrapped your mouth around her clit, sucking like she did with you. Alexia let out a soft moan, which was enough encouragement that you were doing well. 
Alexia stifled her moans as you continued to eat her out, alternating between sucking and licking. She grabbed onto your head, grinding on you as you continued to eat her out.
She moaned out your name as she felt the pleasure fill her entire body. As soon as she was wet enough, you inserted two fingers inside, steadily thrusting as you kept a quick and consistent pattern of licking around her clit.
Just with a few thrusts, she could feel her orgasm approaching. And as she came, she moaned out loud. "Uh, cariño, I love y—" 
She stopped herself from saying it, eyes wide at the realization. She looked down at you but you were still pressed between her legs, not hearing her little slip-up.
She bit her lip, feeling like she was approaching dangerous territory with you and her feelings again. She told herself that it was just the pleasure, the sudden rush of emotions that made her almost say it but she knew that wasn't the truth.
⋆˙⟡♡ From then on, she kept your interactions short and casual. No more extra frills. She'd hit you up whenever she wanted some fun or stress relief but she'd leave it to that.
You didn't go on any more dog walks or errand runs. She didn't want to do anything that reminded her of anything soft or romantic. She decided that she was going to limit it to just the physical.
⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, it didn't take long until you were demanding for her to tell you how she felt.
She cursed, thinking she should have been more limiting about it. Why did she have to go with you to the grocery that day? If she hadn't, maybe she wouldn't be forced to contemplate her emotions on the spot.
⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, she liked you. She liked you more than she would have liked to. But, she knew that you were young and all that commitment stuff mattered to you and she just couldn't promise you that. 
⋆˙⟡♡ She didn't know how to make it right with you without having to lie to you by giving you some false sense of commitment.  She figured you would have moved on from it soon enough and you'd be back to spending your days all over each other again.
⋆˙⟡♡ But you didn't respond to her texts. You didn't answer her calls. You shut her out completely. It left her annoyed and mildly... upset.
"She's just another fuck buddy," She told herself on several occasions. "You'd find someone else soon."
⋆˙⟡♡ But she didn't. Every girl she talked to was boring. No one even remotely attracted her anymore, not even physically. Even when she went to her usual lesbian club, there was absolutely no one that caught her eye.
That's when she knew she was in trouble.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia still didn't want to confront her own emotions.
If she wasn't going to fuck her way around to forgetting you, she figured she would pour her time into friendship, as corny as it sounded.
She'd hang out a lot in Mapi and Ingrid's place but being the third wheel just reminded her of you again. She'd prepare dinner for her younger teammates and it would be a good distraction until they made the same stupid Tiktok references you made and played the same songs you listened to. It just felt so impossible to run away from the thought of you.
⋆˙⟡♡ Jana was helping Alexia wash the dishes after a spontaneous dinner at Alexia's home. Jana always had a fifth sense when it came to her teammates, and she could sense that Alexia needed company. 
"So, how've you been, Ale?" She asked, cautiously. "You seem different from your usual self.
Alexia hummed. "Just bored," She responded. "Wish football season would start soon so I won't be stuck alone at home all the time. And you? How's Jill?"
"She's great. She's coming over here this weekend to visit me and her friend from the Netherlands who is on Erasmus here." Jana beamed. "Her friend is pretty cute, Ale. We should set you up."
Alexia chuckled and shook her head. "If she's on Erasmus, that means she's way too young for me." She laughed. 
Jana frowned. "I mean, she's a bit younger than you but the age gap isn't that bad. It's just like Jill and me." She hummed at the thought of her girlfriend. "22 and 30... not that big an age gap, in my opinion."
Alexia sighed deeply. Great, another reminder of her.
"Think about it, Ale, it would be so cute. We can even invite Patri and her new girl!" Jana exclaimed, enthusiastically. "It would be my first time doing a triple date."
Alexia nodded and just continued washing the pot she used. "I didn't know Patri was dating anyone," Alexia commented. 
"Yeah, I stalked her girlfriend on Instagram and she's really pretty. I think they suit each other really well." Jana beamed as she absentmindedly continued to wipe on the same plate she'd been wiping for a while. "Just like I think this Dutch girl would suit you..."
Alexia shook her head in amusement and took the plate from Jana's hands. "Let's focus on the dishes for now." She joked, absolutely not interested in dating another college girl.
Jana's phone buzzed and she gasped. "Oh, Ale, we should go out tonight! Patri's at the new trendy bar with her girl." She exclaimed, looking at the text she got. "Ooh, I've been wanting this strawberry cocktail there."
Alexia pondered for a moment. She hasn't exactly hung out or talked to Patri since the club incident but she figured that if Patri had a new girlfriend, it would be water under the bridge for them. "Hmm, how far is it from here?"
"Let me check," Jana paused before gasping again.
"Wait, aw, look how cute they are! They're so adorable together." She gushed before showing her phone to Alexia. "Look, Ale. Isn't her girlfriend so pretty?"
Alexia nearly crushed the wine glass in her hand when she saw a selfie of you and Patri with your faces so close together. She blinked a couple times before setting down the wine glass and trying to retain composure.
Jana still noticed Alexia's weird reaction. "Why are you quiet? Don't you think she's such a massive babe?" She gushed, scrolling through the other photos Patri sent. "Patri's so lucky."
Alexia rubbed her face and sighed. "I just didn't know Patri was dating my neighbor." She said, trying to make her stunned reaction appear more natural.
Jana widened her eyes. "What a small world, oh my god! All the more reason we should go out tonight." She smiled. "I can even invite Pina since I think she's around the area too."
Alexia shook her head. "Nah, I'm good." She responded. "I forgot that I have a dental cleaning in the morning and I have to wake up early."
Jana pouted but didn't want to force Alexia. "Okay, I'll just tell them you send your best wishes." 
Yeah, best wishes. 
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as Jana headed out, Alexia opened another bottle of wine. She didn't know how else to cope with learning that you had moved on so quick and started dating her friend.
Here she was, going crazy trying to forget about you while you were cozying up to her friend and teammate. And the fact that all her teammates probably knew about it before she did... it was unbearable.
This was what she wanted to avoid all along — the same destructive feeling she had when she ended things with her fiancée. But this time, you two never even dated. You only saw each other for a couple months and yet, she was completely distraught.
She chuckled dryly to herself, thinking about what her younger teammates would often joke about when talking about their own relationships. "That two-week-long lesbian situationship will send you to therapy." 
She always laughed it off, chalking it up to kids being dramatic. She never would have thought she'd be going through it too at her age. She finished the bottle and decided it wasn't enough; she had to have more to drink but there was nothing left in her apartment.
She sighed, thinking maybe it was time to cool it with the drinking. But she knew it would be easier to drown out her emotions with more alcohol.
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⋆˙⟡♡ You wiped your remaining tears as you entered the apartment building.
Fortunately, the cab driver didn’t catch your answer when he asked where you wanted to go, giving you extra time to cry as he initially drove to the wrong location. (Not that you could blame him—you were an American with no Spanish or Catalan skills, and your sniffling and tears likely didn’t help either.)
You straightened your dress up and tried to brush your hair with your fingertips. You didn't want your aunt to see you distraught again. One more breakdown over a girl and you were certain she was going to have you checked with one of her psych friends. 
And, you just felt pathetic having all of these feelings. You were so done with the tears, the frustration, the regret. It was more than you could handle. 
At least, I'm home now. I'm going to leave behind all the tears with that poor cab driver and genuinely, get my shit together. 
⋆˙⟡♡ But much to your dismay, once the elevator doors opened, you saw Alexia. 
You hated the cruelty of fate, forcing you to face each other again while you just cried your heart out about her in a cab. 
You kept your head low and considered just waiting for a different elevator. But Alexia laughed dryly and asked. "You're not getting in?"
You wanted to retort with a "and you're not getting out?" but you decided against it, knowing your voice would crack and give away the fact that you just bawled.
So, against better judgment, you got into an elevator with Alexia.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't quite see your face; all she knew was that you'd come home from a night out with Patri. She clicked her tongue, glancing at you before rolling her eyes.
"Not gonna press the button?" 
When you didn’t respond, she hit the button for your floor herself, stealing glances as she did. She wanted to curse out loud. She could barely see your face since you hovered close to the elevator door, and turned away from her—but the way your dress hugged your body stirred a familiar annoyance. How could you look that good, dressed up like that, for anyone but her?
"So, you're with Patri now, huh?" 
You stayed silent. Of course, word had gotten out to her that you were seeing her teammate. You were stupid for thinking lesbians wouldn't tell their friends about the girl they're seeing.
Alexia scoffed, pressing a tongue against the side of her cheek in annoyance. "So, you sleep with me... then you sleep with Patri... you got a Barça checklist I don't know about?"
Her words stung your chest. It felt like she was implying that you were a slut or that you were just interested in her or Patri because they were famous. 
"I didn't sleep with Patri..." You muttered out weakly. 
Alexia chuckled. "What? Scared she won't make you feel good as I did?" She taunted, feeling her step closer to your back.
This time, you felt tears fall down as she instigated you. You could tell she was drunk by the way she was slurring her words, maybe even more drunk than you were but you couldn't ever find a world where you would speak as harshly to her as she was to you.
"Huh, can't even answer." Alexia hummed. 
But it didn't take long for her to hear small sniffles. She furrowed her eyebrows before gently walking towards you to take a look at your face. You quickly pushed her away, not wanting her to see you this vulnerable again. The elevator doors opened and you walked out but she quickly grabbed you. 
She spun you around and her face softened at the sight of you crying. You tried again to swat her away. "Alexia, leave me alone." You croaked out.
She didn't let you go, keeping both hands on either side of you. "Hey, hey, what happened?" Her voice was more calm now. "Did Patri hurt you? What did she do? Why are you crying?"
You pushed her away again with more force, making her step back away from you. "Fuck, Patri didn't hurt me, Alexia! You did!" You said with a raised voice. "This is all your fault! So, you don't get to talk to me like that after you fucked everything up. Just... leave me alone."
Alexia reached out to hold your hand, keeping you from walking away. "I'm sorry." She said it sincerely. She hesitated for a while before wiping away the tears from your face.
She used both of her hands to cup your face. "Cariño, please don't cry anymore. I'm sorry... I'm sorry I hurt you." Her voice was soft.
You looked down at your shoes as Alexia continued to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. 
"I'm really sorry." She began apologizing again. "I should have talked to you about how I felt. I should have been more open about my past and why I was so scared to commit. Instead, I made you doubt that I ever liked you and that was wrong for me."
You gently removed Alexia's hands from your face and wiped the tears off yourself. "It's not just that, okay?" You said with a soft yet pointed tone.
"Tell me and I'll make it up to you." Alexia moved closer, putting a hand on your waist. 
You shrugged her away. "I just... I'm having it really good with Patri. She's funny and pretty; she's really a catch. And, she makes me laugh so much but she's also really nice to me. Like, attentive and sweet." You rambled on, still tipsy and incoherent from the alcohol in your system. "She's so good to me, Alexia. And I want to love her so bad. I want to be in a relationship with her and commit to someone who reassures me about their feelings so often that I wouldn't have time to question it."
Alexia stayed silent, knowing there was more left to be said.
You sniffled. "But all I want is you. I can't love anyone while you're there, at the back of my mind." You confessed, feeling your voice crack. "Even when you made me feel like shit, I wanted you. I still wanted to be in your arms and kiss you."
You wiped the tears that were running down your face. "It's unfair to someone as kind as Patri for me to be there with her but still be thinking about how much I want you... and that's all on you." You exclaimed, blaming her. "If only you were honest about all of this — even if you didn't like me — I'd get the chance to move on and I wouldn't be stuck thinking about you anymore."
Alexia stepped in to hold you in an embrace. She hushed you, brushing your hair and patting your head to comfort you. "I'm sorry, cariño." She whispered. "If I could redo it, I would."
"I was just... frightened by how I felt." She continued. "I didn't ever heal completely from my past relationship and it just left me scared of ever committing again. And, you came along and... you made me feel all the things."
You stood there, sniffling against Alexia's chest as she held you. "I just felt like accepting the fact that I was falling in love with you would be accepting the chance that you'd break my heart." Alexia sighed in shudders, feeling tears well up in her eyes as well. 
She looked down at you and you looked up at her, locking your eyes together. "I'm not making excuses. I just want you to know... I can change it all now. I can make it all better." Alexia whispered.
She leaned in closer. "I want to try again with you." She closed the space between you, taking your lips into hers gently. "Let me try again."
You breathed, averting your gaze away from her again. You couldn't decide on what to do but how could you think clearly now when all of your thoughts were becoming static noise. 
You wanted to give in, to try again with Alexia. After all, she was what you craved all along. But something inside you felt that that would be the wrong decision.
"I think I need to think about it." You looked up at her. "If we wanted to try and actually pursue something, we need to be serious about it. It would be the mature thing for me to do."
Alexia nodded and gave you a bittersweet smile. "Can always trust you to do that." She smiled before gently touching your face again. "Just give me one more kiss, just a kiss good night?"
You sighed before you nodded, letting her hold your waist in her hands. You locked eyes, taking in the moment and the proximity you had with each other. Then, your eyes both fluttered shut and you were kissing again. 
It felt good but it felt so different this time.
It felt like a goodbye.
⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your Aunt knocking on your bedroom door. "I made breakfast." She called out to you.
You blinked your eyes open and immediately felt the heaviness of your eyelids. You could instantly tell they were puffy from all the crying. You sighed and headed out to the dining room to have a meal.
"Damn, you look like some bees stung your eyes." Your aunt commented, making light of it. "You run into a beehive?"
No, just ran into a blonde footballer.
"Rough night," It was all you could say. 
Your aunt squeezed your shoulder. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. Don't worry." She said. "But if you want to... you know I'm just here."
⋆˙⟡♡ You were cleaning the dishes from breakfast when you heard the doorbell.
"I'll get it." Your aunt called out, signaling for you to keep doing the dishes. As soon as she opened the door, she cooed. "Ooh, quines flores més boniques! És para mi?"
Your aunt continued to talk to the person at the door as you washed the plates. When she shut the door, you turned to see who it was and were shocked to see your aunt holding a bouquet of various white flowers. 
Before you could even react, your aunt was reading the tag that came with it. "Huh, guess I got the wrong footballer in mind..." She commented.
You hurriedly set down the plates and ran to your aunt to grab the note from her and prevent her from reading any more of it. She just chuckled. 
It was from Patri. "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have rushed our relationship. I'll give you space if you need it but I'm here for you always. -Patri"
You bit your lip, feeling the guilt in your heart grow tenfold. Patri was never in the wrong. Any girl would tell their friends about someone they've been seeing for weeks. You knew it was your fault and that she didn't get the treatment she deserved.
Yet she was the one sending you flowers. She was just too good for you.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were in bed, scrolling through Patri's Instagram and contemplating whether or not you should message. But what would you even say? I'm sorry. I'm in love with your teammate?
You wished you were honest from the start... or that you could just take it all back. Never come to Barcelona. Never experience this pain and guilt. Never meet Alexia. 
You put the phone down and decided to make yourself some tea to calm your nerves. Your aunt was in the living room, watching old clips from a Barcelona game. "That's the girl you're seeing, right?" She asked, pointing at Patri.
"Auntyyy," You groaned. "Why are you watching that?"
"I... wanna support my local club, y'know." She said with a shrug. "Can you make me a cup as well?"
You nodded, trying to ignore the screen that showed both Patri and Alexia; it was the last thing you needed. 
⋆˙⟡♡ Later on, there was another knock on the door. Your aunt offered to get it, pausing the video. 
You turned around curiously as you heard her chuckle. "Two in one day. Guess I should open up a flower shop." Your aunt commented, jokingly. "So... what can I help you with, neighbor?" 
"Is she home?" You heard that familiar voice. It was Alexia. You couldn't see her but you knew it was her. "I... got these for her."
You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your aunt looked over to you. Seeing the worried expression on your face, she turned back to Alexia. "I can tell her to call you later if she wants to."
"Thank you. Please tell her to call me whenever." Alexia's voice sounded disappointed. "And that I'm sorry."
As soon as your aunt closed the door, you saw that she was carrying another bouquet. This time, it was a large bouquet of peach and pink peonies. 
Your aunt looked at you with an incredulous look on her face. "Now, I think we need to talk."
⋆˙⟡♡ You and your aunt sat side-by-side on the living room couch with both bouquets on the coffee table in front of you and the TV still on pause with the Barça clips.
"Well, if you ask me, I like the peonies better." You aunt commented after a long moment of silence, still trying to bring some humor to the ridiculous situation you were in. "Did it come with a note?"
You shook your head. "Is that a sign or symbol of something? Are these a metaphor for something I'm missing?" You said, overthinking again.
"I think it's a sign for you to get your shit together," Your aunt said with a sigh. "Cause how is it that you've got two footballers sending you apology flowers in a day. What did they do?"
You shook your head and rested your head in your hands. "It's actually mostly my fault..." You said, muffling your own words with your hands as you felt yourself getting teary-eyed again. "I just feel so stupid."
Your aunt comforted you by rubbing your back. "It can't be that bad, darling. We'll talk it out and we'll find a way for it to get better."
⋆˙⟡♡ But it was that bad. 
You felt yourself wince and grow more and more annoyed with yourself as you recounted the events in detail. Your aunt was trying her best to be comforting but you could tell from her expression that even she was finding it all hard to believe. 
"And so, I just feel like I made a huge mistake." You sniffled as you finished telling her the entirety of what happened. "I didn't mean to lead Patri on. I genuinely felt like I would have moved on and actually be with her but Alexia..."
You looked at your aunt, who nodded understandably. "That's because your heart already chose her, " she shrugged. It sounds corny, but it happens. Once your heart claims someone, you can't easily force them out of there and replace them with someone else." 
You wiped the tears on your face. "I just feel so clueless and stupid right now because I put myself in a lose-lose situation."
Your aunt furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "And why is that?"
"Because if I choose Patri, I would feel guilty because I know Alexia will always be on my mind and that I'll always still have those feelings for her and that's just unfair and wrong to Patri." You explained, sniffling. "And I love Alexia, even more than I have ever loved my ex who I dated for years... but I don't think I can trust myself to be vulnerable with her anymore. And I think I would always feel distrustful of her intentions."
Your aunt nodded, pausing for a moment. "But you do know those aren't the only choices, right?"
You looked at her to continue. She sighed, "You're looking at a false dichotomy. It's not going to be Alexia or Patri. It doesn't even have to end up with you choosing a relationship to pursue right now." She paused. "It could just be you choosing to heal... which is what you initially came here to do."
You nodded, taking in her words.
"You know how when you get a wound and it's barely healed but you pick at it and it just gets worse?" Your aunt tried to explain "That's what's happening now. You came here to heal from your ex-girlfriend and you barely let the wound heal before putting yourself in the same situation that gave you the wound in the first place. Do you get me?"
You nodded, feeling a bit lost with her vaguely medical analogy. "Yeah, kinda."
She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is... you can't keep running back to the same situations that hurt you and expect different results." She said as she rubbed your back. "And, you were right for coming here in the first place. You can't heal where you were hurt so it was smart of you to take yourself out of that place and distance yourself to give yourself time to actually heal."
"But... now, it's happening again. You're hurting here." She looked at you with pity. "And you can't expect yourself to heal from a past wound and this new wound while you're in a place that just keeps making you want to pick at the scabs each time they form."
Your aunt chuckled. "I feel like I've had this exact conversation with a nine-year-old kid who kept picking his knee scabs from falling over his bike..." She said, lightening up the situation. "But seriously, I stand by it. I don't think you can fully heal while you're here."
You paused. You knew she was right. If you stayed here, you'd always be tempted to run to Alexia who was literally a few feet away from you.
And, even if you were strong and had self-control, the thought of her just being down the hall would make you wonder all the time about what she was doing. Plus, the likelihood of you two running into each other was also enormous. 
You couldn't stay here and expect to heal. 
"So, should I just go back to the States?" You asked.
Your aunt paused. "If I were you, I wouldn't. Because then, you'd be comfortable in your environment, and you'd be bored and all you would do all day is probably watch Barcelona clips or stalk those two online and you'd keep regretting more." 
"When you first came here, you told me you'd love to travel Europe." She reminded you. "You said you'd want to go see the Eiffel Tower and Pisa and all those corny tourist traps... what's stopping you from doing that?"
You paused to think about it. You did have a decent amount of months left before you had to return to university, and you didn't want to come home and tell everyone that all you did was mope around in your aunt's apartment for an entire year. 
"But what if I still don't heal there? What if I still feel like shit?" You asked your aunt.
"Well, if you ask me, it's better to feel like shit while you're eating a pizza in Rome than feel like shit while taking Ruby out on her daily poop." She joked, still making sense.
You knew she was right. You couldn't waste time here, doing nothing and expecting results. There was no chance that you would stay here and completely move on from the remnants of the pain you felt with your ex and from the fresh wounds you got from your experience with Alexia.
If you wanted to move on, you had to put yourself first and leave Barcelona.
⋆˙⟡♡ You packed a small suitcase with essentials while your aunt helped you book trains and buses.
"Madrid is packed with tourists during this season. Why don't you go to France first then just pass by Madrid on the way back here?" Your aunt said with eyebrows knit together as she looked at your rushed itinerary. 
You chuckled. "To be honest, I don't really care where I go. I just need to be a tourist for now — be on the move and take all the usual tourist photos."
Your aunt hummed. "Then I'm changing all of your plans here cause this isn't a good route." 
You chuckled and allowed her to do it. Soon enough, you had a month of travel ahead of you with the first plane leaving early tomorrow. 
You sighed. You thought it was such an out-of-character thing for you to do — just randomly planned flights and train rides to random cities without any set housing or a clear itinerary yet. But maybe doing things that were out of your comfort zone was what you would need.
⋆˙⟡♡ Your aunt drove you to the airport at 4 am. Before leaving the apartment, your eyes lingered on Alexia's door down the hallway. You felt tempted to run over there and give her one last kiss before bidding your farewell.
But you knew that was just you picking at the scabs again. So, you used every ounce of self-control in your body and dragged yourself away from it. 
Though, you did send Patri a text. You told her you were still experiencing trust issues from a past relationship and that you jumped into dating her without healing. You apologized, making sure she knew that none of it was her fault and that you were genuinely regretful. You also said you would apologize in person but that you had to leave Barcelona urgently.
You were nervous for when she would wake up to that text and for what she would say but you figured that this was for the best.
You hugged your aunt tightly before you headed inside the airport. You wanted to cry, missing Alexia already even when you haven't left the city.
But you had to choose yourself this time. You had to heal.
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⋆˙⟡♡ In just three months, you've been to Paris, Monaco, Tuscany, Venice, Munich, and all the other places you've planned (and didn't exactly plan) to go to. 
You did all the touristy stuff. You made several friends in the hostels you stayed in. You tried so much food. You hiked. You missed a flight. You ate bad cheese and blew your guts out in the metro toilet. You basically experienced everything — good and bad — and it was genuinely helping you move on.
⋆˙⟡♡ There were times when you stumbled — liking a photo Alexia posted and quickly taking the like back, sending an Instagram DM only to unsend it before it's fully delivered, basically going through each Barça member's account to see a glimpse of Alexia. 
It was especially worse when football season started and Barcelona was playing so many games. Even when you tried not to watch, you'd stumble into a bar that was showing the game. But soon enough, you learned to block it all out from your head and ignore it.
When you left Barcelona, Patri sent you one long message telling you that she was hurt but she understood where you were coming from and that if ever I needed someone to talk to still, she was there. Though, you never took her offer; you still appreciated the gesture. All you could hope for was that she would move on and find someone more worthy of her time.
On the other hand, you didn't know if Alexia messaged you because you blocked her number as soon as you boarded the plane. It felt naive and childish to do so but it was crucial. You knew you'd end up obsessing over whether or not she'd message you or what she'd say if she did. You didn't want to fixate on that.
Ignorance is bliss, after all.
⋆˙⟡♡ You felt like you were almost fully healed at this point. 
You no longer felt sick when you'd see Alexia play a game on TV. You no longer stalked the Barça team for updates. You were moving on, and it felt good.
But undeniably, there was still something inside you that felt empty. 
In all of your efforts, you figured that throwing out all the regret, pain, and hang-ups inside you was the best way to go about it. And it worked but it did leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled.
It wasn't anything too bothersome but you knew yourself that something was missing that kept you from fully healing.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Come on, we're both tourists here. We might as well make the most out of it." The brunette girl said, trying to get you to go out on a date with her. "What's stopping you from going out with me?"
You smiled at the brunette sitting across from you. The two of you accidentally exchanged suitcases and had to contact each other's mobile from the bag tags to switch them back. 
So, you met at a café near your hostel and you were shocked to learn that the owner of the luggage you accidentally got was this attractive brunette girl with a confident smirk and intimidating aura. 
"Isn't this already a date, Lena? We're in a quaint coffee shop in Italy, getting to know each other." You asked her. "If that's not enough, let's have another coffee then - on me - then we can go our separate ways and have a cute story to tell our friends. You can embellish it with more cutesy details; I don't mind."
"All we did was exchange suitcases and chat about how hassle that trip was." The German girl rolled her eyes. "The fact that you and I have the exact same luggage, were on the exact same trip going here, and exchanged suitcases accidentally..." She paused for dramatic effect.
"That's just the recipe for the most perfect meet-cute. It's fate." She reasoned out.
You laughed at her. It was undeniable that she was charming and funny and very good-looking, and the fact that she was trying so hard to ask you out was flattering. But you weren't really in the mood to date now. If anything, it was the last thing on your mind. "I've had enough meet-cutes in my life to know it isn't all that."
"Sure, a gorgeous girl like you would have experienced it so much already but that shit rarely happens to me so it must mean something." Lena reasoned out, making you laugh again. "What? Are you straight or something?"
You laughed. "God, no." You shook your head. "I just... came from a bad breakup, followed by two simultaneous situationships that had me running all over Europe just to get over it. So, I'm just averse to romance for the time being."
Lena's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She felt amused by your blatant honesty. "Tell me what happened then."
You shook your head. "Too long of a story. Besides, I don't kiss and tell." You shrugged. 
Lena huffed and rubbed her chin in thought as she crossed her arms, purposely doing so to accentuate her biceps. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous attempt. "So, your exes must be hot, huh?"
You laughed. "Does that matter?"
"Well, I would give up pursuing you if you said they were hotter than me. That just means I've got no chance." She said.
You chuckled. "Well, then yeah. They're hotter."
She feigned defeat but paused. "Would it change your answer if I tell you I'm a pro football player?"
Your mouth dropped. What is with me and attracting soccer players? Was I a soccer ball in my past life for me to attract these women?
"That would just make your chances worse actually," You said with an incredulous look. "Way worse."
Lena sighed deeply. "Guess I've gotta go to that Juventus-Barcelona game myself." She said, trying to bait you.
You paused. You haven't kept yourself updated with the games Barcelona was playing. You knew it would have been counterintuitive for you to do so. So, it naturally came as a shock to you that they were playing in the exact same city you were in.
"Barcelona? Femeni?" You asked cautiously.
She nodded. "Yeah, my friend plays for Juventus and she invited me to watch." She took note of your expression. "You a fan of Barça?"
You hummed, not exactly responding. "And that game is when?"
"Tonight," Lena responded with a smirk. "Why? Did I just convince you to go on a date?
You laughed and rolled your eyes. Lena just laughed it off. "So, you are a fan."
"Yes, well, not really..." You answered vaguely, unsure of how to respond. "Kinda, I don't know."
She rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you're one of those girls who saw those Tiktok edits of Alexia running around without her shirt on and so now, you're a fan." She joked.
You bit your lip at the mention of Alexia. It felt weird knowing that some stranger was talking to you about her without knowing that one of the reasons why you were in Italy was that you were trying to move on from her. 
Lena chuckled, assuming she was correct. "Well, I've got an extra ticket if you want to go... and I wouldn't mind if you cheered for Alexia the entire game."
What Lena said triggered a memory... of you and Alexia on the first night that you slept over at her place. 
You remembered how you cautiously watched her drift to sleep, talking about watching a game of hers when she said, "Promise that you'll cheer for me?"
And you made that promise. 
You didn't think much of it then. You were clueless as to what would transpire after that night. But, the fact was that you did promise her that.
You rationalized with yourself that she wouldn't have remembered and that that shit didn't matter anymore. But, it was just funny how this opportunity to see her again — in Turin of all places — was falling straight to your lap. It felt like a chance to fulfill that promise.
Maybe this was what you had to do now. If you changed your mind and ended up hurting from the sight of her again, you still had a month and a half to go to hop to more random cities and forget about her again. 
It wasn't a bad idea.
"I can just buy the ticket from you." You offered the German girl to which she laughed incredulously. "I think I've got enough cash in my wallet right now."
She smiled. "No, it's yours. I have no one else to go with anyway." She shrugged. "Can't believe I'm bagging a date thanks to Alexia Putellas."
⋆˙⟡♡ Your heart was skipping a million beats per second as you arrived, and it wasn't just because you were the only one in a Barcelona shirt on the Juventus side.
"Lewandowski fan too, huh?" Lena commented as she looked at the name on the back of your kit. 
You shook your head. "Not really, I just bought the only Barça shirt available from a stall near my hostel." You said as you scratched your neck. "It's kinda itchy actually."
Lena chuckled. "If you want a Barcelona jersey, I can ask my friend to exchange kits with Alexia and I can give it to you." She beamed, still thinking you were just some fan. "But that would mean another date with me." 
You rolled your eyes. "Again, this is not a date." You corrected. And I already have one of Alexia's kits back at my aunt's house in Barcelona, you thought silently to yourself.
She frowned. "God, your ex must be top-tier if you're still not folding to my charm right now." She joked. 
"Yeah, I actually dated Alexia Putellas." You responded in a jestful manner, looking at her straight in the face. Lena just laughed it off, clueless to the fact that you weren't lying. 
⋆˙⟡♡ The game was going to start soon and you were getting incredibly anxious. You were going to see Alexia after months of no contact. It felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.
Soon, it was time for the players to march in. Your seats were premium which meant that you were right at the player's tunnel — the first people to see them all enter.
Promise that you'll cheer for me?
The memory echoed in your head over and over again in the past hour. You felt a pang in your heart. There was a part of you that felt guilty for leaving Alexia without a single goodbye.
But you figured this was your way of making it up to her — by fulfilling that promise.
As soon as the players walked out with their mascots, you stood up and started to cheer her name. You felt like a shrill fangirl and you could feel the eyes on you from all the Juventus fans on your side but you didn't care all too much. You were keeping that promise.
"Alexia! Alexia!" You cheered, jumping on your feet. 
Pretty soon, the blonde took notice of the loud cheering that came from the Juventus side, ready to flash her beautiful, charming smile at a brave fan but when she saw you in that crowd, her face fell.
Alexia felt like she was actually dreaming when she saw you, wearing the previous season's kit as you screamed her name, locking eyes with her. (And were you beside Bayern player, Lena Oberdorf?)  
It genuinely looked like one of the several dreams she had of you in the past month; it felt hard to believe that you were here and that she was awake.
You stopped cheering and just flashed a genuine smile at her as you waved at her. Soon, a smile grew on her face again; her entire face lit up as she realized that it was all real and that you were really there, cheering for her. She tried to walk towards you but hesitated, possibly remembering that she had a game to play.
"Go, go!" You mouthed at her and gestured for her to go along and play already. You felt a few tears fall from your eyes which you quickly wiped away. Alexia just nodded as you gestured for her to go on, motivated to give her best now that she knew you were watching.
You had no idea why you were suddenly tearing up. It must have been the overwhelming emotions or the sense of fulfillment of keeping your promise to her that you would cheer her name. You weren't sure what it was exactly; all you knew was that it was all tears of joy.
Alexia smiled at you one more time and kept her eyes on you for as long as she could. You smiled back, unable to stop the tears now. 
As she ran off to the pitch, still turning her head back occasionally to see if you were really there, you screamed. "Go Alexia!" 
She gave you one last look and a smile before the game started. And finally, you felt that emptiness inside you get filled.
You were finally healed.
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a/n: hope you guys liked it! if you did, please reblog and leave me your thoughts. (but please be nice... i am a fragile creature.) anyway, thank you for patiently waiting for this! i only did one read through it so there may be some errors which i'll just edit later on lol!
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joemama-2 · 1 month ago
Text
velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader
synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8.4k
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation
series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter < spotify playlist
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Year: DECEMBER, 2018
It was yet another night of bringing back Satoru from a party you didn’t know he was at. Another night of watching him mingle too closely for your liking with some random girl. A friend’s house party, he had told you. Satoru had sobered up slightly by the time you dragged him from that rich kid’s mansion back to his estate. Sober, but quiet. 
His quietness would usually throw you off, considering he could chat anyone’s ear off. But with the highs and lows of your disordered relationship, the quietness started to become a good thing. When it was quiet, it meant no one was voicing their opinions. And with no voiced opinions, no fighting, no crying, and no words of “needing space”.
So, you’d learned to treasure the silence, even if it was fragile. Even if it always came with that tight feeling in your chest, like walking on a wire you weren’t sure would hold. You preferred this version of him—hushed, head down, hands shoved in his pockets—over the witty, sharp-tongued man who knew exactly how to break you apart without even trying most times. 
The front door clicked shut behind you. He kicked off his shoes without looking at you, then padded quietly toward the kitchen. You stayed by the doorway, coat still on, watching him pull a glass from the cabinet like it was muscle memory.
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“You want water?” he asked after a pause, back still turned.
“No,” you answered, softer than you intended.
He filled the glass anyway, drinking half of it in one go. You watched his shoulders rise and fall, tired, worn. Not from the party. From everything. From you, maybe.
“I didn’t want to go,” he muttered.
You raised a brow. “And yet, you did. And then you were the same one who told me to show up.”
“I’m sorry, I completely forgot I texted you. That was an accident.”
“Seems like everything is nowadays,” you easily quip back, arms crossed. He says nothing, looking off to the side as he finishes his cup of water and sets it on the countertop beside him.  You watch his subtle nervous tics—the way he taps his finger against his bicep, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, and the way his eyes dart anywhere and everywhere, except your own pair. 
“Who was that girl?” You ask again, voice in a whisper. 
“I don’t know,” he says immediately. 
“Then why were you with her?”
“I was drunk.”
“Did you cheat on me?”
“I already said I didn’t.”
A beat of silence.
Your eyes remain fixed on him, but his still won’t meet yours. Instead, he stares at the sink, as if the answer might be written in the metal grooves of the basin or hiding in the drain.
You take a step forward. “So that’s it?”
He exhales through his nose, almost like a scoff, but not quite. “What else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth,” he snaps, finally turning toward you, frustration flickering behind his eyes. “Why do you keep asking questions you’ve already made up your mind about?”
Your brows pinch. “Because when you lie, you never blink.”
He flinches, barely, but you catch it. You always do. And for a moment, the quiet returns. Not peace. Just stillness. That dangerous kind of silence—the kind that comes right before something breaks. Satoru runs a hand through his hair, breathing hard now. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I didn’t cheat on you,” he repeats, voice flat. “I danced with her. I talked with her. I don’t even remember half of it. But I didn’t fuck her or kiss her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
You stare at him. He finally meets your eyes.
“That still hurts, you know?” you murmur. “It still counts.”
He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t apologize. Just looks at you like someone who doesn’t know what else to give. Like he’s already emptied his pockets and come up short.
“Did you want to?” You continue. 
“I didn’t.”
He says it a little too fast. A little too sharply. The kind of defensive answer that tastes more like fear than truth.
You nod slowly, biting the inside of your cheek. “…Right. Just drunk. Just forgot. Just an accident.”
Satoru finally looks at you, and that’s somehow worse. His expression is open, but not apologetic. It’s tired. He’s already lost something and is trying to figure out if it’s worth salvaging. “I didn’t sleep with her,” he says again, quieter now. “I swear to you. I didn’t.”
You believe him. You hate that you believe him. But the ache in your chest doesn’t lessen. Because it was never just about that. Not really.
“Then why’d she look at me like I was intruding?” you ask, arms tightening around yourself. “Why’d she touch you like she had the right to?”
“I—” He falters. “I let her.”
You swallow hard. “And that’s what hurts even more.”
The silence creeps in again. Heavy this time. Not the kind you’d grown to treasure, but the kind that confirmed what you both knew: you were always waiting for the next crack. And maybe this was it.
Satoru steps toward you, slow, hesitant. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You never do,” you whisper. “But somehow, you always end up with the pieces.”
There’s a beat of stillness before he speaks again, voice small. “Do you want to leave?”
You look at him. The man you’ve loved, and lost, and tried to love again. And your voice, steady but hollow, replies:
“Do you want me to?”
He stares and stares, and you resist the urge to look away with a burning onset of fresh tears. Holding your ground is something you’ve learned to do, something he’s helped you do, even if it means using it against him. His lips part, then close. He looks down at your hand before gazing into your eyes. 
He blinks. 
“No.”
The word hangs in the air between you, fragile but heavy.  You swallow the lump in your throat, heart pounding louder than the silence. For a moment, you imagine what it would be like to throw your arms around him, to press your face into his chest and let the tension slip away. To go back to how things were between you before all the mess. But the memory of every harsh word, every cold shoulder, every night spent alone after an argument pulls you back.
Then, his hand reaches out, tentative, trembling even, and you feel the weight of his uncertainty. You don’t pull away. You don’t step back. You let him take your hand, fingers curling around yours with a fragile grip. His other cups your cheek, leaning down to plant a sweet and soft kiss on your lips. His lips linger before drifting to your cheek and down your neck. His arm wrapping around your waist, you feel your body melting into his embrace. 
Your arms instinctively loop around his neck, letting out a wistful sigh, eyes closing. His lips reach a particularly sensitive spot he’s grown accustomed to showing extra attention to. Sucking at the area softly, teeth just barely grazing your skin to where it still feels pleasurable enough. You twitch, a moan rolling off the tip of your tongue, head lolling back. 
A low breath escapes him at the sound, fingers tightening just slightly on your waist as if anchoring himself to you—to this moment. His lips trail slowly back up, skimming along your jawline, reverent and slow, until his forehead rests against yours. “I miss you,” he murmurs, voice raw—cracked open in a way you hadn’t heard in months.
Your eyes flutter open, lids heavy, vision hazy from the heat of the moment and the storm of emotions behind it. “I’m still here,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you mean it physically, emotionally, or as a plea for him to notice you—really notice you—again.
“For how long?” 
It’s like he’s constantly trying to give you ways out—his sorry attempt at saving you, even if it’s far too late. But there’s still that one part of you that keeps you tethered to this moment—to him. The part of you that doesn’t want to be saved. 
So your simple response is kissing him once more, reaching up to smash your lips into his, hands running through his hair. For a few seconds, he doesn’t move, as if debating something internally. And then, he’s all over you. 
His restraint shatters.
Satoru grips you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish, like if he doesn’t hold you tight enough, this fragile thread between you will finally snap. His hands roam your back, desperate and warm, pulling you flush against him as his mouth claims yours over and over. Every kiss is filled with apology, with longing, with a thousand things he never found the words to say. He walks you back slowly, blindly, until the back of your knees hit the couch. You sink down together, his weight gentle but all-consuming as he follows you, lips never parting from yours. Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging, grounding yourself to him—to this reckless moment of pretending everything broken between you can be fixed with closeness.
“I feel like I’m losing you,” he breathes between kisses, forehead pressed to yours again, voice barely audible. “I feel like I already did.”
You don’t validate him. You don’t have to. The way you’re clutching him says enough. 
His hands slow, brushing up beneath your shirt with a familiar tenderness, as if asking—Is this still mine to touch? Are you still mine to hold? You nod, just slightly, barely a breath of motion, as if you’re unsure yourself. He waits a few seconds and then exhales shakily. That tiny gesture is enough to keep him afloat. 
His fingers undo the button of your pants, pulling down the zipper with practiced efficiency. Your own unbuckle his belt, throwing it off to the side. 
The clothes come off with the kind of quiet desperation that only familiarity breeds—not rushed, not slow either, just… necessary. Each layer removed feels like shedding another wall, a final plea to be vulnerable, to be seen. Not just skin-to-skin, but soul-to-soul, even if only for tonight.
Satoru kisses down your sternum, reverent again, almost worshipful. His fingers ghost down your sides, brushing the curve of your waist like he’s memorizing you all over again, or maybe making sure you’re still real. His mouth follows, trailing lower with a gentleness that borders on painful. When he comes back up to kiss you again, it’s softer than before, less desperate, more deliberate. His nose brushes yours, eyes locked onto yours like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth. You think he wants to say something—maybe he almost does—but instead, he just presses his forehead to yours again.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, you let him in.
Not only into your body—but into the parts of you you’d boarded up. The pieces that still loved him. The pieces that still wanted to love him. Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s dangerous. But in this quiet, trembling moment of two people who never really stopped being each other’s, it feels like the only thing that makes sense. You’re not sure where things will go after this, if anything will change, if the damage can ever be undone, but right now, you’re his again. And he’s yours.
Even if only for tonight.
“Satoru,” you moan softly, back arching off the couch at the feeling of the top of his cock hitting your g-spot so deliciously. 
He groans as you squeeze around him, face screwing up. His heavy groans and pants fill your ear, your legs locking around his waist. “God…f-fuck—this—you.”
“Right there…please,” you whisper, breath fanning his cheek. 
His hips jutt, thrusting his thick cock harder. You cry out, nails digging into his back and scraping smooth lines of red down his silky skin. “Like that. Just like that,” he mumbles.
You cling to him like he’s the last thing tethering you to Earth—fingers pressed against the curve of his shoulder blades, mouth brushing his jaw as breathless pleas slip from your lips. The air between you is thick with heat and heartache, every movement laced with a need that goes far deeper than physical.
Satoru presses his forehead to yours again, his breath shuddering as he moves with a rhythm that feels more like an apology than desire. “I’m right here,” he murmurs, voice cracking at the edges. “I’ve got you.”
Your body reacts subconsciously, but it’s your heart that trembles. Raw, vulnerable, and still healing. Every time he murmurs your name, it lands somewhere deep, somewhere old and aching. The way he holds you feels like he’s trying to stitch the broken pieces back together with every motion, every whispered confession that never makes it fully into words.
His hand pinches and rubs your nipple between his fingers, and you bite hard on your lip. It roams down your stomach, feeling around your ribs before his thumb finds your pretty, puffy clit. With ease, he presses down with the flat of it. 
Your toes curl, eyes rolling back. Your limbs feel loose, brain mushy. He rubs before circling the bud, just how you like it. His eyes are laser-focused on your oh-so-pretty expressions. The expressions he’ll miss. He times the thrusts of his thick cock with the swirling of his thumb, fucking you compeltley dumb and boneless until all you could do is slur out meaningless mumbles, mixed with whimpered pleas of his name. 
Satoru leans in, lips brushing your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, his breath uneven against your skin. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, his tone a mixture of awe and regret. “I fucking love you. I love you so fucking much, you make me—fuck—feel so g…good...”
Your hands find his face, thumbs tracing the curve of his cheekbones. For a moment, everything stills. Just the sound of your breaths, your heartbeats crashing together, bodies wrapped in something desperate and tender all at once. It’s more than lust. It’s grief, apology, love, and all the things left unsaid.
When he presses his lips to yours again, it’s slower this time. Deep. Full of meaning. Like he’s trying to tell you something he’s never been brave enough to say out loud.
His tongue slips into your mouth, exploring the wet cavern with desperation. 
His grip on your hip tightens, fingers pressing deep while his thrusts get faster, harder, more intentional. All you can do is cling to him, panting through your nostrils. When he pulls back, a thick line of saliva connects your mouths. His thumb flicks your clit. 
You squeeze. 
His cock twitches. 
“F-fuuuck. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, g-gonna…yeah—gonna come,” he quivers out, hips snapping against yours in a sloppy motion. 
“M-me too!” You whine, grip tightening into a fistful of his hair. 
You both border on the edge of finishing for more grueling minutes, as it always did when you two had sex. You both agreed it added to the fun and intensity of it all, edging being your second favorite thing. The first was when he’d moan and groan pathetically against you.
But something’s wrong.
You feel it before you hear it—the way his heart thuds irregularly beneath your hand, the way his breath catches not from exertion, but emotion, how his thrusts just barely stutter.
“Y/N…” he murmurs, voice nearly broken.
You shift slightly beneath him, shakily brushing damp hair from his forehead, eyes searching. “What is it?”
His head pulls back, and that’s when you see it. The faint sheen of tears lining his beautiful eyes. It almost breaks you instantly. 
“I…I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know who I am anymore. I know what I want, b-but I know what I don’t…either.”
If he wasn’t fucking you, you would’ve smacked his arm and told him to quit joking. Except he’s not joking, he’s dead serious. It’s almost a little hard to believe him considering he’s confessing in the middle of being balls deep in your cunt, but you assume he couldn’t find any other right time to do so. 
You can’t find your voice, so he continues. The hand that was on your hip traveling up to your cheek, gently cupping it. His thumb swipes the area beneath your eye with tenderness. “…I—I think we need to figure ourselves out.”
“No,” you choke out, unaware of the tears that stream down your cheeks. Your arms tighten around his neck, legs as well. You cling to him like he’s your savior, like he’s the only one you have left. 
And well, he is. 
That’s what makes him feel even more shitty about doing this. 
“S-satoru—”
“I know. ‘M sorry, I’m…I’m really sorry, Y/N.” A tear falls from his cheek down to yours, his thrusts growing slower, but still as pleasurable. 
“Y-you don’t know!” You shout.
His lips tremble against yours, the motion almost reverent now—slow, shaky, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your mouth before it’s too late. He’s still inside you, still moving, but the urgency is gone. Replaced by something heavier. Final.
“Promise me, Y/N. Please, promise me.”
You blink through the tears, breath catching painfully in your chest. “Promise you what?” you ask, voice cracking open like the rest of you.
He closes his eyes as if your question physically hurts him. And it does.
He blinks them open. “We should have nothing to do with each other. I-it’s not doing anything good for us. So…don’t look for me. Don’t do it. And I won’t look for you.”
Your whole body stills beneath him. It’s like someone has pulled the air out of your lungs, out of the room, out of the world. And yet he stays inside you, forehead pressed to yours, as if hoping to stay close enough to soften the blow.
“That’s not fair,” you whisper. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “You don’t get to hold me like this, do these things to me, say stuff like that—then ask me to pretend we don’t exist.”
He’s crying now. Really crying. Silent tears trailing down his cheeks, his body trembling ever so slightly. “I know,” he breathes, like it’s a confession. “But if I don’t say it now, I won’t be able to walk away. Neither will you.”
You press your lips together to keep from sobbing. Your chest heaves with the weight of heartbreak, confusion, and the cruel irony of intimacy turning into goodbye. Still connected in the most vulnerable of ways, the silence stretches long between you—thick, suffocating, sacred.
“You’re still everything to me,” you say softly, lips brushing his cheek.
“And you always will be,” he murmurs. “But sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Then, with devastating gentleness, he spurts his seed inside you. He lies still for a few seconds before he pulls out of you—like he’s trying not to break you more than he already has—and gathers you into his arms.
For the last time.
The following morning was the last time you saw him for five years. 
He said nothing, he didn’t cry anymore, he didn’t try to stop you from putting whatever valuables you had at his house in a box before his parents came home from a trip. He just watched silently. He didn’t hug you, didn’t kiss you. 
You wanted to slap him. Curse him. Maybe kill him. 
But you didn’t. You blinked through your blurry vision, hiccuping heaving breaths, hands trembling. 
He stood in the hallway like a ghost—like he wasn’t really there, like you weren’t really there either. Just a moment passing through him. Just a chapter he refused to reread. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the shoebox as you stepped past him, waiting… hoping… that he’d reach out. That he’d do something.
But he didn’t.
Not when you brushed past him. Not when you paused at the door, turning one last time with red-rimmed eyes and a silent plea. Not even when your lips parted to say goodbye, but no sound came out.
Was it really this easy for him? He must’ve been preparing for this moment now for ages. You did this, didn’t you?
He just stood there. A statue. An ending.
So you walked out. And the door clicked shut behind you like the final nail in the coffin.
Five years.
Five years of silence.
Five years of learning not to look for him in every man you talk to.
Five years of learning how to breathe without him in your lungs.
You hated him for making it easier with each year that passed. You hated yourself more for wishing it hadn’t been.
And yet—no matter how much time passed, no matter how much healing you forced yourself through—there was still that part of you, small and bitter and quietly aching, that whispered: He didn’t even say goodbye.
That’s why your eyes tear up five years later when you see the way a boyish smile makes way onto his dimpled cheeks after giving you your housewarming gift after officially moving into the new place he got you and Koji. 
Because after everything—after the years of silence, of rebuilding your life without him, of nights spent convincing Koji that no, there was no one else coming to dinner—he’s here.
Standing in your living room like he belongs there. Like he never left.
And it should make you suspicious. Should make you slam the door in his face, scream every unspoken word that’s lived in your chest since the moment he let you walk away without a fight. 
But then he grins wider.
That same crooked, too-charming smile that used to melt you in the middle of fights. That always preceded trouble. That lit up the darkest corners of your life. He holds out the box wrapped in glossy paper like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Thought this would help you get back into the groove of things,” he says, trying too hard to sound relaxed.
You take it slowly. Fingers brushing his. A tremble you try to mask as a chill. “What is it?”
“That’s why you open it.”
Your throat tightens at the simple reply. You hate how familiar this feels. How easy it would be to fall back into old rhythms, into old mistakes. You shouldn’t be letting him stand here. You shouldn’t be letting him smile at you like that.
But your hands are already peeling away the wrapping paper.
Inside is a ceramic watering can—cream-colored, minimalistic, just like the ones you always pointed out in those expensive catalogs you couldn’t afford back then. The ones he used to say were “boring” before secretly bookmarking them. Except there’s a painting of what can only be Koji’s work, including his mother, him, and his father, all holding hands. You swallow hard as you turn it in your hands.
“Since you have a little patio now, I figured you could get back into planting. Maybe some tulips, peonies, or purple hyacinths.” He shrugs, hands stuffed into his pockets. 
Your lip quivers before you can stop it.
“Don’t cry,” he says with that soft, teasing lilt in his voice—the one you used to fall asleep to years ago. “You’ll make me feel like I got you a vacuum or something.”
You laugh, but it cracks, just a little. Your eyes sting as you set the water can gently on the counter. And then you look at him. “Thank you, Satoru. I—You’ve done a lot for Koji and me when you didn’t have to. This means a lot to me and I really appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he sighs, looking off toward the living room where Koji is already making a mess of his excessive number of toys. “I know our…situation is different, less than ideal. But I still have an obligation to my son and his mother, which starts with a safe home. One where his mom can get back into her old habits.” He gestures to the watering can, looking back at you. 
You nod, fingers tightening around the edge of the counter behind you as if bracing yourself. “It’s a beautiful gift. Koji must’ve had fun painting it.”
“He was insistent that I draw myself taller,” Satoru chuckles, gaze softening. “I told him I’m already the tallest person he knows. He said I needed to look more like a tree.”
You smile, genuinely this time, but there’s still that ache behind your ribs. Like a door that was supposed to stay locked has started to creak open again. Silence settles between you for a moment, filled only by the muffled sounds of Koji’s playtime.
Then, more quietly, you say, “Can…Can I give you a hug?”
Satoru looks at you for a beat too long, the kind of pause that says he wasn’t expecting that. The kind that makes you immediately regret asking. But then his mouth twitches, softening into something you remember—something warm, steady, like the way he used to reach for your hand in the middle of the night without even waking up.
“You don’t have to ask,” he says, already closing the distance.
You meet him halfway, arms wrapping around his middle as his come up around your shoulders, firm and gentle all at once. He holds you like he’s afraid you might disappear, like he’s only just now realizing how long it’s been since he got to do this. And for a moment—just one brief, fragile moment—you let yourself lean into him. Let yourself be held.
You breathe him in. That familiar, dangerous cologne with faint traces of Koji’s toothpaste on his sleeve. The warmth of him against you brings you boosted levels of serotonin. Your hands tighten on the fabric of his jacket.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur into his chest.
His arms tense, then relax again. “Don’t be.”
You pull back slightly to look at him, and his hands linger at your waist like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I mean it,” you say. “For the way things ended. For keeping him from you. I thought I was protecting Koji. But maybe…I was just trying to protect myself. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough for what I did.”
Satoru’s smile falters, his eyes scanning your face like he’s memorizing every part of this version of you, this quieter, softer one shaped by years apart and everything unspoken between you.
He exhales slowly, thumb brushing against your side like he’s grounding himself. “You were scared,” he says, voice lower now. “You had every right to be. I was reckless. Arrogant. Hell, I didn’t even know what I wanted until it was too late.”
You shake your head, guilt pinching at your ribs. “No, don’t make this about you. I made choices too. I chose to run instead of letting you try.”
Satoru leans in, forehead nearly resting against yours. “And now?”
You hesitate. The weight of everything hangs between you. The years, the pain, the distance, the child just in the living room. 
“Now…I’m trying to stop running. At least from you.”
That’s when his hand rises, gently cupping your cheek. “Then let me catch up,” he whispers, the plea in his voice trembling at the edges.
Your breath stutters in your chest. This moment, it’s too much, too intimate, too soon. And yet you don’t move. You can’t. But just as his lips barely brush your forehead, a loud crash erupts from the living room, followed by Koji yelling, “I didn’t mean to!”
You both freeze, the air between you crackling with what almost was. Then Satoru pulls back with a quiet, rueful chuckle. “Sounds like our son just broke something valuable.”
You blink at the words—our son—the way he says it so naturally now. You offer a soft smile. “I hope it wasn’t your expensive Lego set.”
“Please. Those are a business investment,” he grins, already heading toward the culprit.
As he walks off to check on Koji, you’re left leaning against the counter, heart thudding. The watering can still sits beside you. A little crooked painting of your family stares back at you. And for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel like a dream you don’t deserve.
It feels like the start of something you might be brave enough to hope for again.
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“My buddy Nanami says these are good for kids.”
You blink down at the box he’s holding. “Those are literally dried seaweed snacks.”
Satoru shrugs, tossing them into the cart anyway. “They’ve got iron. And they’re crunchy. Kids love crunchy things.”
You roll your eyes, amused despite yourself. “Your buddy Nanami probably meant for kids who don’t gag on anything green.”
“Koji eats crayons, I think we can get him to chew some seaweed.” He rolls his eyes before strolling ahead, pushing the cart like he owns the place.
You follow, biting back a smile. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, and shelves are packed with items that seem way too expensive. Luckily, it’s not your bill. 
“Do you even know what I need?” you ask as you catch up.
“I know you need snacks, juice boxes, and something for dinner that won’t involve me setting the kitchen on fire.”
“So, takeout?”
He gasps dramatically. “Have some faith in me, woman. I can make spaghetti. With meatballs. That’s like…parenting level five.”
You laugh softly, reaching for a can of tomatoes and dropping it into the cart. “We’ll see if Koji makes it past one bite.”
“Mama! Can we get this one?!”
You turn just in time to see Koji waddling over, arms wrapped around a neon-colored cereal box that definitely wasn’t on your list.
“Koji, that’s all sugar,” you warn gently, crouching down. “We talked about this, remember? Something with less…rainbows.”
“But it has marshmallows shaped like planets!” he insists, eyes wide, shaking the box for emphasis. “And a rocket ship toy inside!”
Satoru leans over your shoulder with mock seriousness. “You’re outnumbered. Planet marshmallows are a once-in-a-lifetime culinary experience.”
You sigh, standing and fixing him with a look. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m building morale,” he says, taking the cereal from Koji and dropping it into the cart with a wink. “Also, I want to see what the Saturn marshmallow tastes like.”
Koji cheers, scampering ahead toward the snack aisle like he’s won a war. You watch him go, shaking your head with a reluctant smile. “You’re spoiling him.”
“He’s a kid,” Satoru replies, casually tossing a pack of onigiri into the cart. “Isn’t that our job?”
You hum, thoughtful. It’s strange, standing here like this—shopping for dinner, bickering over snacks, making tiny compromises. It feels…normal. Too normal. Like the calm before a storm. But even as you brace for it, there’s something comforting about how easily he fits into this picture.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” you murmur as you walk beside him.
He smirks. “What gave it away? The cereal or the emotional intimacy?”
You nudge him with your elbow. “Definitely the cereal.”
“Not the meatballs?” he grins.
You roll your eyes. “Go look for the rest of the stuff on the list, please. I’m gonna go make sure Koji isn’t raiding the snack aisle.”
Satoru offers a lazy salute. “Yes, ma’am. Anything to avoid being guilt-tripped over cereal.”
You shake your head as he strolls off, already distracted by a wall of oddly-shaped pasta. Turning on your heel, you make your way down the bright aisles, eyes scanning for that familiar mop of messy, white hair and sticky hands. It doesn’t take long to find him—Koji is sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by three open bags of chips and a very confused store clerk hovering nearby.
“Koji,” you sigh, walking over. “Baby, you can’t open things before we pay for them.”
“But I was taste testing!” he beams up at you, crumbs all over his shirt. “This one is too spicy, but this one tastes like pillows.”
A poor teenage employee glances at you, clearly panicked. “Uh—ma’am? Should I—do I need to…get someone, or…?”
You gently place a hand on Koji’s head and offer the boy a tight smile. “It’s fine. We’ll pay for everything.” Then, to Koji: “And you’re not supposed to eat things that taste like pillows. We’ll talk about that in the car.”
You usher him to his feet and start dusting crumbs from his pants. You grab the bags he’s opened with one hand, using the other to hold his hand. “No more snacks, Koji. We need to go to the other aisles now.”
Koji pouts but doesn’t protest as you guide him over to the produce section. Diligently eyeing your next few purchases, ensuring the produce looks right. As you’re leaning over a bin of apples, testing for firmness, Koji clings to your thigh with one arm and gnaws the corner of the chip bag you couldn’t pry from his hands. You’re too focused on choosing between Gala and Fuji to notice the man approaching until his shadow falls over the fruit.
“They really upped the price for these.”
You startle a bit at the nonchalance of the newcomer. Looking to your left, a tall man with brown hair is picking up one apple, inspecting it. He sighs, then gives you a polite grin. “Inflation, am I right? Remember when they were just a couple bucks.”
You offer a polite smile, shifting slightly so Koji is tucked closer to your side as his tiny hands cling to your skirt. “Yeah… everything’s gone up lately.”
The man chuckles, tossing an apple into his basket. He’s good-looking in a clean-cut, office-worker kind of way. Nice watch, rolled sleeves, the faintest whiff of designer cologne. “They say it’s the economy, but I’m convinced it’s just a clever way to make me pay more for mediocre fruit.”
You let out a soft, polite laugh, already glancing back toward where Satoru wandered off to.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” the man continues, taking a casual step closer, clearly encouraged by your response. “New to the area?”
You tense, but keep your tone neutral. “Kind of.”
He nods, glancing down at Koji. “Cute kid. He yours?”
You nod, placing a hand gently on Koji’s back as he reaches toward the display of grapes. “Yep.”
“Well,” the man says, smile widening as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, “If you ever need help navigating the neighborhood—best parks, cafes, good wine shops—I’d be happy to give you a tour. I’m Mark, by the way.”
You hesitate, blinking. He’s not being aggressive, just… confident. And that somehow makes it worse. “Oh, I—that’s okay. I don’t need a guide.”
Mark chuckles, undeterred by your polite decline. “Sure, sure. No pressure.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender, still holding that easygoing smile. “Just figured I’d shoot my shot. Hard not to when you’ve got such a lovely face.”
You force another tight smile, your fingers brushing over Koji’s tiny waves, grounding yourself. “Thanks. But I’m really not looking for anything.”
“Fair enough,” he says, but then—he lingers. His eyes drag a bit too long across your face, down to your hand on Koji’s shoulder, then flick quickly to your left hand. No ring. His smile flickers with something a little more interested now. “So uh…how old's the little one.”
“Kindergartener,” you reply cooly, looking away and stepping over to the celery and avocados. 
“Ah,” Mark nods, subtly following your side, pretending to look at the same things you are. “Is he albino?”
You stop and look at him, head tilting slightly. “No,” your voice is steady, “his father just has very light features.”
“He said we can’t talk to strangers,” Koji’s mumbled voice speaks up, but he clears it and grabs your hand, leading you a few steps away. 
“Is that so? Well, your daddy must be a smart man.”
“Yep, and daddy’s around here somewhere.” You nod briefly, a silent marker that you’re heading your own way now. 
“Daddy’s right here.”
You jolt slightly at the sensation of a warm arm sliding around your waist, Satoru making his presence known as he stands between you and Mark. Nonchalantly ripping the avocado out of Mark’s hand. He hums and tilts his head before tossing it back into the pile. He feels around for a ripe one. “And who’s this?” He gestures with his head towards Mark. 
Mark blinks, momentarily thrown off. His smile falters just a little—but not enough. “Just saying hi,” he replies, straightening up. “Didn’t realize you were…uh, together.”
Satoru hums, tone light but razor-edged. “Yeah, easy mistake. Not everyone’s bold enough to flirt with a mom while our kid’s holding her hand.” He smiles as he lifts a ripe avocado to eye level. “But hey, you gave it a good shot. Ten points for confidence.”
Mark’s smile falters again. “Wasn’t trying to cause trouble.”
“Mm. That’s good,” Satoru says with a nod, finally releasing the avocado he’s selected and dropping it into the cart, you didn’t even notice him roll over. “Because I’d hate to cause a scene. Produce sections are sacred.”
“I was just making conversation,” Mark says smoothly, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “Like I said, I didn’t realize she was with someone.”
“Yeah, well,” Satoru says airily, squeezing your hip for emphasis, “Now you do, yeah?” He offers a bright, toothy grin—one that doesn’t reach his eyes. 
You huff a quiet breath—amused, relieved, a little embarrassed—but you don’t pull away.
Mark, for his part, seems to pick up the shift in tone. His smile vanishes into something tight. “Right. My bad.”
Satoru hums, finally facing him completely. He’s taller than Mark, having to angle his neck down slightly. “No harm done. Just don’t go getting too familiar with other people’s families.”
Mark meets his gaze for a long beat, the air thick between them. Then he lets out a short, humorless chuckle. “Sure. Good luck with the shopping.” He takes a careful step back. “Nice meeting you both.”
Satoru raises his fingers in a lazy farewell. “Likewise. Try the bananas next time.”
You watch Mark retreat down the aisle, and only then does Satoru sigh, turning toward you with a casual lean. 
Silence lingers for a second. Then:
“I was gone for five minutes,” Satoru mutters, leaning against the cart with a sigh. “I leave and some discount finance bro tries to slide in?”
You exhale, still holding Koji close, trying to shake the edge of unease that lingers. “He was… persistent, to say the least.”
He scrubs a hand down his face. “You attract the weirdest types. Like moths to a flame.”
“I think it’s the fact that I don’t walk around swinging like a wrecking ball of intimidation,” you mutter, heart still beating a little too fast.
Satoru leans in with a grin, brushing a barely-there kiss against your temple. “Nah. It’s ‘cause you’re hot and look like you need saving.”
“I don’t need saving,” you grumble, adjusting Koji’s sleeve.
He shrugs and pulls back, pushing the cart as you follow. “Yeah, but it’s more fun when I pretend you do.”
Koji tugs at your shirt. “Mama, who was that?”
“A stranger, baby.” You move some hair out his face. 
Koji frowns in thought. “That man was weird.”
“He was,” Satoru agrees, dropping iceberg lettuce into the cart. “Probably sells fake crypto courses online.”
You sigh heavily, pausing by the parsley. Satoru stops with you, noticing your expression. His voice grows quieter, hand gently patting your lower back. “You okay?”
You nod, reaching to grab a bundle of parsley. “I’m fine. Just weird.”
Satoru watches you for a second longer, his teasing demeanor slipping into something more careful. Protective. He doesn’t say anything at first, just shifts closer, hand still on your back like he’s anchoring you. 
“Let’s get out of here soon,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear it. “We’ve got most of what we need. Spaghetti’s easy. You, me, Koji—one normal night.”
You glance up at him, grateful. “Normal sounds nice.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” He smiles, giving your back one last pat before going over to the checkout with you and Koji in tow. 
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“Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it,” he responds, opening the cupboard to put the new pots and pans he bought for you away. 
You’re currently storing all the food that could probably last you an entire month in the pantry. You hesitate, unsure of how much of a sensitive topic this could be, but you bite the bullet. “How’s Suguru?”
He pauses, not sparing a glance over at you. He clears his throat and continues. “Fine, I think.”
“You think?” You look at him. 
“Yeah, I think. I haven’t spoken to him in a while.”
Guilt shoots up your spine, a frown pulling at your lips. Memories flood you of that dreadful night. The one where you almost kissed his best friend, and you thought you’d have to break up a man fight. Knowing you’re the cause of the small hiatus put on their friendship makes you wish you could turn back time. “I’m sorry.”
Satoru doesn’t answer right away. He just keeps arranging the pans, movements slower, more thoughtful. The air feels heavier now, less like home, more like a pause neither of you wanted to admit was coming. Finally, he exhales through his nose, closing the cabinet gently before leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “It’s not your fault,” he says, voice even, but his eyes flicker with something more tired than usual. “Suguru makes his own choices. Always has.”
You swallow. “But if I hadn’t—”
He cuts you off gently, shaking his head. “It wasn’t about almost kissing him.” His voice is softer now, but there’s something unspoken threading through each word. “It was about the fact that he didn’t stop it either.”
That stings. You look down at the box of granola bars in your hand, heart thudding with that old familiar guilt. “I didn’t want it to happen. I just… I was in a bad place.”
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know that now.”
You nod slowly, setting the box down and bracing your palms against the counter. “I just wish you two could fix things. You’ve been friends since forever, and now it’s like—”
“Like we’re strangers,” he finishes for you, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Trust me, I feel it too.”
Silence stretches between you for a beat, and you gauge his expression. “You should talk to him. He’s already set a boundary with me after it happened. But I don’t want to be the reason you guys aren’t close anymore.”
Satoru watches you for a long moment, eyes unreadable, jaw clenched like he’s holding back words he doesn’t want to admit. Then he drags a hand through his hair, sighing hard as he drops his gaze to the floor. “I’ve thought about it,” he says finally, voice low. “More than once. But every time I get close to reaching out, I think about that night… and I don’t know what I’d even say.” His fingers drum anxiously against his bicep. “Like, how do you come back from that?”
You step closer, hesitant. “Maybe it’s not about fixing everything in one conversation. Maybe it’s just… showing up. Letting him know you still care.”
He doesn’t answer right away. You can tell he’s deep in that mental space where his pride and pain wrestle with each other. Eventually, he mutters, “We were supposed to be unshakable, you know? Like, no matter what. And then it got real messy, real fast.”
You nod quietly. “It did. But you’ve forgiven me. Maybe part of forgiving him is just… letting him know that.”
He finally looks at you, eyes softer now, tired but warm. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Maybe.”
You finish putting the groceries away. “Just call him, it wouldn’t hurt, right?” A gentle suggestion. 
Satoru watches you close the pantry door and wipe your hands on your skirt like you’re trying to wipe away the tension, too. You look over your shoulder at him with that soft, hopeful expression, the one that always makes it hard for him to say no. 
He shrugs one shoulder, casual in appearance, but you can tell he’s still turning it over in his head. “Wouldn’t hurt,” he echoes, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “Might hurt a little, actually. But maybe that’s the point.”
You step toward him, closing the distance just enough to gently nudge his arm. “Even if it’s awkward at first. Even if he doesn’t pick up. At least you tried.”
He gives a breathy laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “You always make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” you admit. “But neither is letting someone you love slip away.”
That lands. You can tell by the way his mouth twitches—like he wants to say something else, something deeper—but instead, he pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times before holding it up in a silent offering.
You blink at him. “You’re calling him now?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” he smirks, though it’s a little shaky around the edges. “I’m impulsive, remember?”
The dial tone fills the space between you.
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“Stop stringing her along, okay? I want no drama.”
“I’m not, cousin!” Naoya huffs childishly. 
“Really? So what do you call using her for information on Gojo for our own personal gain?” Toji raises a brow, buff arms crossed over his chest. 
“Look,” he rolls his eyes. “Hana’s a nice girl, what if I like her just to like her?”
“You have higher standards than any woman I know.”
Naoya snorts, shaking his head with a grin. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m just lowering the bar for once.”
Toji smirks, stepping closer, voice low but teasing. “Careful, or you’ll end up stuck with a lifetime supply of disappointment.”
Naoya laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Better than being stuck alone, right?”
Toji raises his hand, flicking his cousin’s forehead. “End it. We don’t need you playing secret agent.”
Naoya winces at the flick, rubbing his forehead with a scowl. “You act like I don’t know how to handle her.”
“That’s the problem,” Toji retorts, stepping back and leaning against the counter with a look that borders on both exasperation and warning. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, but she’s not just some pawn. If she finds out you’re using her—”
Naoya scoffs, but there’s a flicker of unease in his eyes. “She won’t.”
Toji levels him with a sharp look. “You sure about that?”
A beat passes.
Naoya looks away first, lips tightening into a thin line. “She trusts me.”
Toji snorts. “Then all the more reason to quit while you’re ahead.”
The silence that follows is heavier than either of them wants to admit. Naoya doesn’t respond right away, instead pulling his phone from his pocket and glancing at a message from Hana—something innocent, casual. A little too kind for the way he’s been treating her.
A pitter-patter of tiny feet is heard against the polished tiles. Toji’s attention is immediately torn away from his idiotic cousin to his six-year-old son. A smile graces his lips, his scar stretching up. “Sup, buddy. How was school?” 
Megumi’s black spiky hair looks messier than when he left, taking off his school backpack. His uniform has splotches of green paint, arms reaching up for his father. “Okay,” he mumbles back. 
Toji bends down and scoops Megumi up with ease, holding him against his hip like it’s second nature. “Green paint, huh?” he teases, brushing his thumb against a streak on the boy’s collar. “You wrestle an art project or something?”
Megumi nods with a serious little frown. “We painted frogs.”
“Frogs?” Toji grins, walking toward the kitchen table with him. “Lemme guess—yours was the coolest?”
“No,” Megumi says flatly. “Mine looked like a blob. Teacher said it was ‘expressive.’”
Toji chuckles, setting him down on a chair and ruffling his hair. “Well, expressive blob or not, sounds like a masterpiece to me.”
Naoya watches the scene quietly from the side, arms crossed, lips pulled in a tight line, though there’s a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clears his throat, forcing a grin. “Kid’s got more personality than half the people in this house.”
Toji shoots him a glare. “Don’t start.”
Megumi blinks at Naoya, then turns to his dad. “Is he staying for dinner?”
Toji smirks. “Only if he promises not to be annoying.”
Naoya holds up his hands in surrender. “No promises, but I’ll keep it PG for the kid.”
Megumi huffs, already pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his bag. “I drew a ninja too. Want to see?”
Toji leans over, genuinely interested. “Hell yeah, show me.” 
He motions to be let down, and Toji complies. He zips open his backpack for the ninja piece. “Mr. Tanaka said we’re getting a new student soon, I can show him my drawing.”
Toji crouches beside him, watching as Megumi pulls out the wrinkled sheet of paper, proudly smoothing it across the table. “Think he’ll like ninjas too?” he asks, studying the tiny stick-figure warrior with a sword and an oversized headband.
Megumi shrugs, not looking up. “Maybe. But if he doesn’t, I’ll show him the frog.”
Toji chuckles, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Good plan. Win him over with options.”
Naoya leans against the counter, watching with a lazy expression. “You’re already working on your charm, huh? Got that from your old man?”
Megumi looks at him unimpressed. “I got it from TV.”
Toji bursts out laughing. “Smart kid.” He ruffles Megumi’s hair again, softer this time, his voice a bit more thoughtful. “New student, huh? Be nice to him, yeah? It’s tough being the new kid.”
Megumi nods without hesitation. “I will. Yuuji and Nobara said the new student could play tag with us at recess.” 
For a fleeting moment, Toji’s expression flickers—something distant and unreadable passing over his face. But it’s gone just as fast, replaced by the usual crooked smile. “That’s my boy.”
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taglist is now closed
taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins
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578 notes · View notes
rhiannonsknife · 2 months ago
Note
no thoughts, just cowgirl!jackie
- ✨
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some more cowgirl!jackie taylor thoughts for you!! 🙂‍↕️ (obviously: nsfw content so mdni!)
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cowgirl!jackie!!! <333
cowgirl!jackie who uses sex like a reward: like the sugar cubes she’ll feed to her horses, she’ll treat you if you’ve been good, if you finished your to-do list or told her she looked pretty in that denim skirt. then, she’ll pull you behind the barn and press her thigh between your legs from behind. “i know how to treat someone who behaves for me…” jackie whispers, kissing the nape of your neck.
pervert!cowgirl!jackie anyone…?
pervert!cowgirl!jackie who keeps a pair of your panties in the pocket of her flannel. she’ll finger the lace during long shifts fixing fence posts, glancing around like someone might catch her when she gets it out to sniff it.
pervert!cowgirl!jackie who has had to excuse herself from the dinner table more than once because you kissed her jaw a little too long or said ‘ma’am’ in that voice you use to tease her. she’ll lock herself in the bathroom, palm herself through her jeans and try to calm down while her hips are already grinding into her hand.
pervert!cowgirl!jackie who suddenly ties her flannel around her waist when you have friends visiting….it’s only later that you realize it’s because she soaked through her jeans from watching you lick a popsicle on the porch, sticky sugar catching in the corner of your mouth.
cowgirl!jackie who jerks off thinking about you moaning for her “harder, jackie, please- fuck, you feel so good!” with your nails digging into her shoulders and sweat dripping from your neck to your chest, down to where she can taste it. she does this more often than she cares to admit: on her knees in the hayloft, in the cab of her truck, sprawled out on the couch, hoping you’ll catch her but always biting her knuckle to stay quiet.
cowgirl!jackie who always talks you throught it <3 “yeah?” she’ll rasp, even when she’s breathless and exhausted from rocking her hips into you. “that’s it, baby. you can take it. so fucking good for me.”
cowgirl!jackie who wakes you up before she has to leave to work so she can pull herself into your lap and ride you slow, warm and sleepy and half-laughing when you grab at her for another round.
cowgirl!jackie who pulls you into the barn and fucks you on a hay bale because she can’t wait until you’re home. your skirt is bunched around your hips and jackie’s pants are shoved down, pooling by her ankles. she has to bite your shoulder to keep herself from moaning too loud whilst snapping her hips forward over and over and pushing your face into the hay. “god-“ she groans. ���been thinking about this all damn day…fuck, just listen to you…so wet for me!”
cowgirl!jackie who usually wears jeans that ride low on her hips when she’s working, so your eyes keep dropping to the curve of her waist, the sliver of tanned skin between her tank top and the denim.…
…cowgirl!jackie who later grinds against your thigh through those exact jeans because she wants it filthy. jackie wants to rut on you like she’s in heat, with your hands pinned and your mouth against her throat. “don’t touch!” she instructs whenever you try and reach out. “just let me- just let me use you for a minute!”
sucking cowgirl!jackie’s strap?? when you get home, she’s already on the bed, legs parted, working it slow. “you wanna be a good girl for me?“ she asks with heavy lidded eyes. “then get over here…” once you’ve put your mouth on her, though, jackie is no longer all that smug: she’s got one hand tight in your hair, the other trembling on her thigh, while you’re on your knees with your lips wrapped around her strap, bobbing your head like it’s the real thing.
cowgirl!jackie who “works better when she knows you’re watching her” (once, she caught you staring while she was chopping wood and made a point of flexing her muscles for the rest of the chore). so, she takes you out to the back pasture in the dead of summer, tells you to “sit tight” on an old blanket she laid out under the shade of a tree while she checks the fence line. jackie gets distracted, of course, and returns to kneel between your thighs. she pushes your sundress up with calloused, dirt-smeared hands and her tongue is in on you before you can ask what she’s doing. “can’t help myself,” she mumbles against your cunt. “you looked too fucking pretty sitting there.”
472 notes · View notes
defmaybe · 9 months ago
Text
J’adore
5.2k words
aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader
Prequel to Not Shy
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A/N: Kind of extension to Not Shy! Also, this is my last sprint before the midterms lol, I’ll be back after that and try to write something good. Kinda rough bc there’s no beta-reading lol. Thanks for reading as always!!!
Spring
“You? A student council member?”
“It’s just the treasurer!”
It’s the easiest position, according to your seniors, which seems to be much, much more credible sources than Kai, the friend you got caught in a debate with.
“Just the treasurer. Mate, have you seen the lads from last year? I swear that one of them almost died.”
“I have to build my portfolio, man. You even have your dance club!” You retort, trying to grasp on something.
“Well, it’s because I like to dance.” Kai says in a mocking tone. He doesn't mean to be condescending, of course. He’s your best friend, after all. “Do you like to work with Excel?”
“I mean–”
“Board games? No, too nerdy. Cheerleader? No, too demanding. And then you fucking jumped onto the student council? I swear, man, you definitely have some kind of death wish,” he says.
You sigh, surrendering to his points. Still, you're too deep in the application process to turn back now. You look back at your phone, seeing all the completed questions in the form.
“I’m not leaving you behind, still,” Kai says, patting your back. “I’ll give you caffeine when you need it.”
Do you think you’re qualified to be a student council member?
Yes.
“I’m sending it now.”
“Good luck.”
Submit
Thank you for your submission. We will announce our selection by May 1st.
Summer
Maybe it was how the last year’s council members turned out to be. You were the only one who applied for the treasurer's position. Hell, even the other ones aren’t any more popular either. There was no one in the head of first aid, and they had to roll out another round of applications for that.
The fresh faces of the new student council members are all standing inside this meeting room—so determined, so passionate. Their chatters fill the room up with life.
You glance around the room. You’re familiar with some of them, walk-pasts in the hallways, sitting-fars in the classes, until one woman catches your eye.
Yoo Jimin, you’ve heard that she beat the second place applicant for president by quite a margin. Her confidence is probably what makes her so alluring to the students. Also, her face, fuck, her face, she’s the fucking epitome of perfection.
Maybe it’s the way you stare at her for just a little too long; she starts to walk towards you, and that’s when you fell into her trap for the first time.
She stops just a step away, offering you a handshake—firm, assured.
“Yoo Jimin,” she declares—stern, expressionless.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jimin.” You accept her grip, lips curling inward, letting out a minuscule smile—relaxed, reserved.
“We’ll be working together for the next year. I’m looking forward to it.” She keeps it professional in the expression she makes. There’s nothing to be made of it, except for the fact that she’s very reticent with her face.
You force out another small smile. “I’m also looking forward to it, Jimin.”
“Areas! I need two tables and four chairs. Parcels, get your equipment ready.”
The first meeting between the freshmen and their seniors is always the hardest to perfect. There’s the idea that the first impression defines the future of the relationship between the two. So, here you are, in your faculty’s First Meet event. You’re lucky that they let you use the air conditioners on the d-day. Those fucking run-throughs got you all melted.
You have little work to do today, having managed the proposals and preparing to do the post-production stuff. So, you’re at the core team’s table, playing whatever your old laptop can handle, until—
“Are you free?”
You look up from your screen to see the angelic figure that is Yoo Jimin standing in front of you, towering you with ease with you sitting in your seat.
“Uh–,” you can only let out a hesitation.
“I guess you’re—” she bends over the desk to see the gaming screen, before letting out a small laugh. “—free?”
“Y–Yes, Jimin.” A slight view of her cleavage can be seen with her posture, and you have to do your best to find something else to look at.
“Good. Can you help us carry a few tables?”
You look at your frail arms—should’ve done some more work at the gym. “If you want me to tear my biceps.”
Jimin chuckles, before closing on your ear, left hand pressing on your right thigh, “Don’t worry that you wouldn’t be able to jerk off, treasurer. I can do it for you.”
You freeze, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. Did she just say that? Such lewd words?
Jimin, sensing your tensed up body, pulls back from you and laughs. “Oh my god, look at you. I was just fucking with you!”
“Good grief, Jimin. You could’ve killed me,” you huff.
She shoots back a beam. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
Fall
The clicking sound of your keyboard and the scratches of the bills you’re arranging permeates the room this evening. Jimin is sitting on the other side of the trash-ridden table—stationeries, snack wraps—eyes unfocused as she swipes one short video after another. Her thoughts seem to be elsewhere now. Dinner? Bed? Someone? You’ll never know.
“Fucking hell, this bitch again,” she mutters under her breath, which you catch. You look up from the budget plan you’re working on, meeting her eyes.
“Sorry, Tinder stuff.”
You return her a tiny smile before going back to inputting the bills. Still, you can hear Jimin’s tossing and turning in her chair as she seems to type something into her phone, before smashing her thumb on the right side of its poor screen. You can’t help but let out a chuckle, one that she catches.
“Yeah, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” Jimin rhetorizes, placing her phone on the table. “A student president that just can’t find any partner.”
You shrug, still typing, “Well, the work is gruelling.” And she chuckles at your statement.
“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s just, how to explain?” She furrows her eyebrows, tapping her chin to seek the right word in the air, before coming to an answer. “I just can’t find the right person, you know? Half of the line is gone once I show any bit of confidence, and the other half are, well, clingy ass bitches.”
You smile back at her, trying to give her some solace in solitude. “I’m sure you’ll find the right person soon, Jimin. You like–have the whole faculty in your hands.”
She gives you a weak smile. “You always have pleasant words for everyone, treasurer.”
You smile back before returning to your accounting work, unbeknownst to the light bulb brightening up inside her head.
“So, how’s your love life?” She asks, rising from the other side. She leans forward ever so slightly, hands supporting her frame on the white table, slightly revealing the valley of her breasts.
You break yourself from the laptop, once again, meeting her cleavage in your line of sight for a split second. It’s magnetic, but you’re able to resist it, for now.
“Hmm?”
“I mean… you don’t seem to be an awful choice for women, or men, judging from… how many months?”
“Four,” and you gulp.
“Yeah, four months with you, my treasurer. But I’ve never quite caught you being involved in anything,”—she stands up straight, before slowly striding towards your seat, hips swaying at each nifty step—“romantic.”
You clench your eyes ever so tightly at her alluring motion—the swaying hips, the crossing steps—as if there’s anything to examine but her burning lust. “Well, Jimin, I don’t think the passive mid-table guys get much,” you state.
“Is that so? Because you don’t seem to belong at the mid-table.” The distance between you two is shrinking, slowly. And with a few more small steps, you find her towering over you, chest basking in front of your face.
Jimin bends down slowly, revealing just a slight sight of her gorgeous cleavage. The poor crop top is struggling to hold her supple flesh within, even with the workshop shirt helping. You shift just slightly in your seat.
Your eyes are doing their best to resist the magnetic force, but her big brown eyes aren't a sanctuary, either.
“Thanks, miss president.”
Her Dior J’adore is enrapturing you.
“You know, I notice the perfume you wear every day, even if it’s just CK One.” She forces sultry into her perceptive words, and to say, it works. She drags her right middle finger along the length of your arm, lighting a fire in its trail.
You try to keep your composure; it works, for now. She doesn’t seem to notice the sweat hanging off your forehead yet.
“Or how you dress so damn well to class, even if it’s some fuckass subject,” Jimin continues, tracing her hands up to your forearm now.
Your breath hitches, and you can just connect the dots so easily.
“W–Why me, though, Jimin?”
“Oh, clever boy, I just need the real thing, that’s all,” she coos. Her digits are playing with the line of your collarbones now. 
“See, I’m just so fucking sick of my—well, what’s the word, devices. They’re pleasurable, sure, but unlike a real person, which in this case—is you—” Her hand grabs your chin from behind, and you can’t find any resistance. Her sonic reduces into a sensual whisper into your ear. “—they lack warmth.”
“S–So, do you want to have—”
“Sex? Yes, I want you inside me, baby. I want you body clashing against mine, while you moan my name like you’re some common whore.”
It’s haywire, your mind. You are lost in her—her voice, her face, her body, everything that’s about Jimin. Is she really inviting you to have sex with her? Is this interaction even real?
“So, what do you say, wanna go somewhere after this? Somewhere—small, somewhere—private.” Her voice dives into a whisper beside your ear, and you can feel a smile forming beside it. “I’m sure you can work on your bills—anywhere.”
You stare forward, trying to look unfazed to cover your crumbling composure.
“I–I can work on the bills anywhere, Jimin.” Your voice betrays you.
She gives a quiet laugh, “Good to know, treasurer,” before lightly grabbing your chin, with her index and middle finger resting on your lips. Are they seeking silence or entry?
Slowly, they push your upper lip ever so slightly, eliciting a whimper from you. Fuck, is she trying to—
“You know what to do, baby.”
Rejection.
Hesitation.
Submission.
You open your mouth for her—now courtesy of Yoo Jimin. You take in her fingers. They’re cold from the air conditioner. Bite. Lick. Swallow. You close your eyes while doing so, absorbing her taste with your tongue. You feel you’re under her control—so submissive. It’s ecstatic.
“God, do you like being called a whore? Because you’re acting like one right now,” Jimin asks.
You profusely nod at her statement, continuing to suck on her fingers.
“Then keep doing it, whore.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you can hear her giggle. And as your vision comes back to her, the free hand is rubbing against her clothed core now. Mewling sounds can be heard.
“God, keep sucking it, baby. I’ve never cummed as fast as this before.”
“Ngh.” And you keep sucking her fingers.
A sound of the door stops you in your tracks though.
“Guys, I need a few chairs–am I interrupting something?”
Ning Yizhuo, head of student welfare, barges into the room. She stares straight at you two. Good thing Jimin pulls her digits out and puts them behind her back before Yizhuo’s eyes catch sight of you glistening on her, leaving you stranded in your burning desire for your president.
Maybe it’s the way your eyes are still fluttering. Maybe it’s the way your mouth ever so slightly hangs open. Maybe it’s your quick breaths.
Yizhuo wants to know what’s up.
“We’re just–” Jimin tries to find the right word in your eyes. Her blinks are rapid. She’s concerned. She’s afraid.
“You’re–what?” Yizhuo isn’t a patient figure. She’s trying to gauge something out of Karina.
“I–I’m adjusting his posture! O–Our dear treasurer has a bad sitting posture and–”
“Cut the shit, Jimin. What the fuck did you guys do?”
“S–See, he’s sitting a lot, you know? B–Bills. Accounting. Excel stuff.” Jimin’s brows hint at the concern within her chuckle. She pushes the middle of your back to set you straight up. As you follow her move, Yizhuo clenches her eyes.
“Just get me some chairs and don’t fuck inside this room.”
Jimin swings her door open, and as expected, every single bit of it is immaculately kept clean. There’s not a single piece of trash on the floor of her white room; the table is meticulously arranged; the bed is folded. There’s a Meteora vinyl placed on her shelf. God, what a tasteful woman.
“Drop your bag.”
You comply as she also does so.
And she immediately pounces on your body, consuming your taste and scent at your nape. Her lips are wet, sending shocks through your pliant frame.
“Mmph, keep this perfume, baby. I just wanna have this scent of you every day.”
It’s CK One.
She plants her kisses along your neck—standing up straight—ever so determined to make you hers. Her hands lock your shifting, shaking body in place, despite being so eager to feel every inch of you—up and down.
“So—pliant, so—submissive,” she whispers.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you deflect, trying to have a hold of the battle. There’s a glint of brattiness inside you that wants to resist her just a little, just before you give in.
“Is that so?” Jimin mewls, before pushing you onto the bed.
“I’m not letting you have me that easily, miss president,” you say with your back against her soft cushion. Jimin is straddling her lean, lengthy legs over yours. She looks so damn tall from this view—you lying beneath her.
“Sucking my fingers, then decide to be a bratty bitch right now—” She lightly taps the tip of your nose, also scrunching hers. “—I like that.”
You say nothing, giving her just a wink from below.
“Oh, baby, I’ll have you scream my name so many times.”
“Fucking make me then.”
And fires ignite in her eyes.
She dives onto your left ear—nibbling, biting, swallowing, whatever she can do with her mouth without tearing your auricle off. Her deep moans send suppressed shudders through your neurons.
Jimin spreads saliva all over your ear, no sign of relenting. Slurping sounds of her flesh ring in your head. She plants each lick with purpose, and it sends jolts and jolts through your body. Still, you’re far from falling apart—tethered on the ground.
“Tsk, i–is this the best y–you can do?”
“Oh, baby, you’re already stuttering? I can do more if you want~,” she tastefully threatens. Then, she brings her right hand into play, tilting your chin up. Your mouth is right beside her neck. The pale smoothness of her skin is presented in front of you, and you just can’t help but—
“F–Fuck!” Jimin yells, clearly enraptured with the swipes of tongue you are giving her. Still, she keeps spreading her saliva on your ear as if it’s hers (it’s hers).
“Oh, b–baby boy, maybe you can use your t–tongue on other things instead,” she whines.
“Your cunt?” You keep stretching your tongue onto her nape, getting a taste of her sweat.
She pulls back from you, robbing the sensations away from your throat. “Clever, now just lie like this. I’m riding your pretty face.”
Jimin then takes off her purple lace panties, giving you a hint of her wet cunt—unshaved—as she lifts her leg, before stuffing the garment onto your nose. Fuck, her musk is so intense; you can just die happily right here.
“You just love it, don’t you?”
You sheepishly nod, pressing her panties against your nose even tighter, eliciting laughs from her sinful mouth.
“I think that’s enough, baby. I wanna fuck your face now,” she says, before tossing away the filthy garment.
Jimin then moves forward on her knees, bringing her heat closer and closer to your face. God, the fact that she’s unshaved only brings you higher. You need to slurp her juice; you need it on your face, you–
“Ready?”
Her cunt is hovering above you now, she’s pulling her skirt up, letting you see her face for the last time before being buried under her.
You nod.
And she sinks onto your face.
The first contact is soft, so, so soft. You’re practically making out with pussy, as she shakes above you erratically. There isn’t much light, with her skirt darkening your vision of what’s around, but it’s like you’d complain. You’re eating your student president out in her room, and you’re doing it so, so well that it sends shivers through her body, again and again.
“Ngh, f–fuck!” Jimin shouts from above—the things you’d do to see her face right now, to see an effect you’re having on her.
You say nothing, just keep lapping up her folds enthusiastically. Her juice drips into your mouth—sweet.
Jimin starts to grind her hips, as the moans grow louder. She’s getting wetter, and you’re still happily drinking her sugary nectar—drunk with it.
“Ah, ah, y–you’re doing well, my treasurer.”
You give her a thumbs up. You keep licking her cunt as if your life is depending on it. She moans so loud; everyone on this floor is probably going to hear that, but you don’t care anymore. The only thing in your head right now is to please Jimin—only Yoo Jimin.
And you can feel her thighs tense, shaking with pleasure. She’s going to cum. Her moans grow more chaotic and shorter than they were.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!”
She cums hard, collapsing onto the bed, cunt still on your face, ass up in the air. Her core clenches and clenches on your face, and she just forgets to breathe as her hips convulse.
“No squirt today, huh?” you joke from below.
She snaps back into the situation she’s in, sneering, “Fuck off, don’t fucking play stupid with me, wh–whore.”
You laugh, “Alright, alright, let’s get to the main course, shall we?”
“Y–Yeah.”
Jimin lifts off from you, leaving a string of her lubricant between your lips and her cunt.
“God, that’s hot,” you just can’t help but say it.
She giggles, and you can now see the sweat forming on her forehead; there’s beauty in it.
You two, in a haste, discard all of your clothes until you’re left with nothing—just bare bodies on the bed together. You’re sitting opposite of her, expecting her to say something.
She looks ethereal under the room light. The messy hair, the perfect features, the bare body, they all combine into the epitome of perfection right in front of you. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
“Can I suck your tits?” you mutter. Fuck reticence, you need her, now.
She chuckles. “Sure, but only if I’m on top of you.”
“You just have to find a way to dominate me, don’t you?” you huff.
“Don’t say it like you don’t like it, baby.” She caresses your cheeks, and you shiver at her touch.
You lie down, as she slowly eclipses the light above both of you. Her large breasts are hanging down so close to your face. And—
“F–Fuck!”
You latch your mouth on her right breast as if it’s innate, with your hand kneading on the other. She lets out empyrean moans that only makes you want to suck on them even more. God, you can do this all day.
And not wanting to wait anymore, she impales her cunt with your cock, and you can only moan into her tits. This sensation, it’s overwhelming. Her velvety walls are hugging you so, so tightly. It’s so warm. She’s warm.
“Fuck,” she groans, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Your cock is so well-bent, baby. It’s hitting my g-spot so good.”
“T–Thanks, J–Jimin.” Your mind is so damn clouded by the pleasure that you can say nothing but her name right now.
And a crack starts to form when she moves—up and down. Her unshaved cunt dragging along your digit, emanating pleasure all over your body from the core.
“B–Babe, c–can you stop s–sucking my tits?” she pleads.
You pull yourself out of her mounds, as she’s still riding you like there’s no tomorrow, and you let out small moans at each contact. “W–What? Ngh.”
“I wanna kiss you.”
You freeze under her. She’s still motioning herself to squeeze the cum out of you, whimpering each time your cock hits the hilt. Is it a confession? Does she love—
“B–Babe,” she brings you back to the mortal world.
“Y–Yeah, kiss me.”
She invades your mouth as if it wasn’t already hers at the second she sits on your face. Your tongues intertwine in a quest to declare their feelings of their owners.
Your hands are still squeezing her breasts. It’s addictive. You press and press into her flesh just to feel her as much as you can. This might as well be the only body you want to have just to yourself, as you dedicate yours to her. Every curve, every contour, every limb, you want her; you want her to want you; you need her. This kiss, fuck, it’s doing wonders to you.
She’d be the one to break off from the kiss to pant above you, hips still smashing into yours in a perfect rhythm.
“W–Wanna go out with me?” she asks.
She’s desperate, all the Tinder dates, all the–
“Babe, I–I fucking know that it’s desperate, yes or no. Fuck those Tinder dates, fuck those guys and girls, I–I want to go out with you, t–treasurer,” she pants.
Maybe it’s her J’adore that’s permeating all over you. Maybe it’s the way your hips are clashing into each other. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the glint in her eyes.
But if you have to recall, it’d be the confidence she’s radiating in clashing your flesh together just right now.
You nod.
Jimin smiles, pulling you into another kiss. You swear it can tear you apart if you have to let this woman go—figuratively.
She pulls off, her breaths becoming shorter and shorter again. “C–Can you cum with me, baby?”
Again, you nod, smiling. It’s inside your loins, building up, building up. Your body tenses up beneath her, same as hers. It’s there. It’s there.
“Fuck, baby, breed me. I’m yours, just breed me, just–ugh!”
And her whole body freezes, juices flowing onto your crotch. Her face is contorted by the pleasure coursing through her. Again, she forgets to breathe, back arching. You don’t slow down, though. Your orgasm is coming too.
“B–Babe–ah!”
It breaks. You busy yourself inside her to the hilt. Just like her, you forget to breathe. You shoot spurts of your seed deep into her womb, intending to breed her as her wish. Your cock shakes inside her, as she moans at each twitch.
It subsides, eventually. The shots get softer and softer to the point the cum just dribbles off the tip of you now. Fuck, your juices even leak out of her cunt onto your crotch, mixed together.
“F–Fuck,” is all she can say, before collapsing onto you, chest pressed up against yours.
“The plan’s still up?”
“Yeah.”
And she slips to the side, embracing you from behind, as you two doze off in the nocturne.
“Can I use your toothbrush?”
A long drag of uncertainty comes from the outside. Sun has risen hours ago, yet you two are still in the drowsy state.
“Or do I have to kiss you again for the answer, Jimin?”
“Put your morning breath away from me!”
At least she’s quick with her riposte.
As you brush your teeth, naked, she saunters into the bathroom, still similarly bare from last night. Her breasts bounce ever so slightly with each step in the mirror. Despite the disheveled appearance, her natural beauty shines through the mess—a seraphic being, one might say.
“Ha, yeah, I know I’m pretty, baby,” she says. “People would kill to have a body like me.”
You finish your clean up, before saying, “You’re insufferable, you know?”
Jimin laughs, before giving you a quick peck on the cheek, emanating mellow all over your face. Fuck, you can feel the blood rushing to your erection now.
“You too, babe.” She smiles, before grabbing her mouthwash for a gargling.
Your cock, again, finds the condition to rise in front of this woman. It’s twitching, and you just have to turn back before she notices it.
Still, her sharp eyes find you, and she gives you a small slap on your bare ass, sending pleasure rushing through your body.
“Hey!” she growls with the mouthwash, before quickly disposing of it. “You’re fucking hard again?”
“I–I–I–uh–”
Jimin then presses herself up against your back, arms ever so tightly trapping you from behind in a hug. It’s warm. She’s warm.
“Let me, baby,” she whispers against your wobbling right ear. “I can’t have my co-workers’ needs go unsated.”
“F–Fucking hell.”
In one careful motion, Jimin slides her arms down to your erection, right hand grabbing the length. “Wouldn’t mind some respect from my baby boy~” Her grip and the languid, careful strokes make your legs wobble.
“Tsk, n–no fucking way, J–Jimin,” you muster any inhibition you have left to deflect.
“Well, then.” Jimin then tightens her hold on your cock, transpiring both pain and pleasure to you. “How about now?”
“Nghhhh, f–fuck,” you cry out, the contorted expression appears in the mirror.
“Just like that, baby, moan for me. Show me who owns you,” Jimin coos, loosening her hold a slight, still keeping the adagio tempo.
“Nnnh, J–Jimin.”
“Good boy, good boy,” she murmurs.
She drags her filthy hand up and down your cock so leisurely, finding the rhythm for your pliancy. She strokes and strokes to build you up to the second release with her, this time by her hand.
It feels like eternity—the way her unhurried digits find the pace that would make you want so much more, or how she whispers ‘good boy’ into your ear every time she wants a whiff of reassurance of control. It’s like she needs one, anyway, judging by how you’re moaning like a bitch right now.
“God, you’re making so much sound for me.” The way she swipes her index finger at the tip of your cock on each stroke, fuck, you can fall onto the floor right here and now. “Wanna see your face in the mirror, baby?”
You turn your head leftwards to find reflections of a contorted face and a grin side by side. Her hand is diligent as ever—building you up to your inevitable release.
“What do you say, baby? Wanna see our faces in the mirror?” she inquires again. You can feel a mischievous smile beside your ear.
“Ngnh, a–alright.”
With ease, she forces your body to turn into your image of the ball of lust—the shower of kisses on your neck; the hand sliding up and down your cock; the thigh pressing up against your ass. You shift and shift within her restraint, and that seems to only fuel her fire.
“Moan some more for me, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I want my men moaning.”
You comply, letting out a series of whimpers just for your student president. The sensation of her hand is so damn enthralling—each slide, each nick of a finger, each twist of her wrist, they are all designed to make you surrender to her.
“Good boy. Your moans are so pleasing to hear, you know that?”
“Nngh, t–thanks, Jimin.”
“Wanna up the ante, baby? I can do it faster~” As if her languid tempo isn’t already doing its job in trapping you inside her overflowing lust.
You hesitate, finding yourself wanting this act to go on to such lengths, maybe even when the sun sets again. Being under her comforting warmth is too satisfying.
“I–I don’t know, Jimin.”
“Oh, this baby can’t decide? Guess I’ll just have to–”
She suddenly lets go of your length, cutting your string of desire so easily. You whine, as Jimin lets out a laugh.
“Don’t!” you say in a rush, and letting go the hand you haven’t realized you’ve been holding—hers.
Jimin giggles. “Say please, baby.” She tightens her hug on you, squeezing the plea out.
Your eyes meet hers in the mirror.
“Please, Jimin.”
“Good boy.” And she wraps her hand around your erection again, casually stroking it.
“Ngh.”
The sound of her jerking your shaft fills the room. It’s heavenly—her voluptuous chest pressing up against your arching back with right hand busy sliding on your rod. She does it so cleanly—the technique, the pace. You swear you will cum by the second she whispers another ‘good boy’ into your welcoming ears.
As if she knows your inevitable release, she seeks a higher speed on your cock, stroking it with a swiftness that tries to draw out your moan and your cum as much as she can.
“Ngh, J–Jimin,” you whimper.
“Oh, gonna cum already, baby?” Jimin giggles at your crumble, before giving a peck on your left cheek. “Go on, cum for me. Cum, just like you did last night inside me.”
White spots start to form within your vision. Your breaths become more erratic. It’s there. It’s there.
“Jimin~”
And you explode all over her mirror, painting white streaks on it. You are left with ecstasy on your face as Jimin smiles at your release. Your body shrieks and shudders in her embrace. Your cock twitches in her hand, sending flying ropes of cum everywhere. Fuck.
“Yes, baby, just like that.” Her voice is deep—so seductive.
You continue to shake in her hold, not being able to subside from your high so quickly. Your release grows lighter and lighter in her hand, until it comes out in drops, finally letting you catch your breath.
“Good boy,” Jimin says, before forcing your body towards hers. You are spun around, and she gives you a kiss.
It’s short, but it’s powerful—no tongue fighting for dominance, no slurping sounds, just a kiss.
And she pulls back from it once she’s satisfied, judging from the smile on her face.
“Wanna do this again?” she asks.
“Definitely—well—maybe. You know Yizhuo would beat our asses if she catches us again, right?”
“Just shut up, babe. She won’t know if you’re good with secrets like me.”
You pout, bringing out a laugh from her.
Winter
“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Kai asks.
You give him a small smile. “It’s bearable, yeah.”
“Good to know, good to know.” He then takes a sip of his latte from his cup, looking outside.
“Fuck, I forgot to ask you this,” you say. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Oh yeah! In fact, there’s a woman I've been seeing recently, Yizhuo. You probably know her, right? You guys are working together,” Kai answers.
“Oh,” you utter. “Oh.”
He chuckles, before continuing, “Yeah, I know it’s weird–”
“No, no, not at all, bro,” you deflect with a chuckle along with him. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
Kai, still chuckling, inquires, “How about you? It’s gotta be more than ‘bearable’ for you to be all happy like this.”
You give him a smile.
1K notes · View notes
studioeisa · 3 months ago
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first love/late spring 🌸 wonwoo x reader.
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humans have four lives. a life of planting seeds, a life of watering seeds, a life of harvesting, and a life of enjoying those harvests.
🌸 pairing. first love!wonwoo x reader. 🌸 word count. 2.5k. 🌸 genres. alternate universe: non-idol, romance, friendship. 🌸 includes. first love/s, feelings realization/denial, reincarnation. prose-heavy. synopsis from goblin: the great and lonely god. title from mitski’s song of the same name. inspired by this wonwoo post i made way back when. 🌸 notes. this was my planned enlistment fic, but it took me a while to polish. much thanks to my dearest, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, for beta-ing and assisting with the final line. this goes out to @gotta-winwin, who i’m fairly sure i would find and adore in all my lives. my masterlist
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Every morning at 7:42 A.M., you see him on the train.
He always boards two stops after yours, dressed in earth tones and quiet silences. There's a softness to him—the slope of his shoulders, the way he leans ever so slightly against the pole even when there’s a free seat.
He carries a book some days, a plain black umbrella on others. You’ve never heard him speak, but you’ve built a voice for him in your head anyway: calm, deep, a little rough like he only just woke up.
You don’t know his name. 
You know how he tucks his hair behind his ear when it falls forward, though. You know he reads with his thumb pressed between pages, like he’s holding space in more than just one chapter. You know the way his eyes flicker to the window, then away, like he’s still not used to being seen.
This is your first life: the planting of seeds. 
A glance, a passing thought, a what-if rooted in the mundane. You sit with him in silence, three bodies apart, and imagine what it might be like to bump into him at a coffee shop, to hear him laugh, to say something that earns you a second look.
Once, the train jerks too hard at a stop and he stumbles. Your hand shoots out before your brain catches up, steadying him by the forearm.
He murmurs something—a thank you, you assume— and offers a brief smile. It’s not quite the real thing, but it’s enough to keep you warm the rest of the day.
It’s nothing. It’s everything.
You begin to notice the little things. The way his shoes are always a little scuffed. The tiny pin on his tote bag shaped like a cat. The crease between his brows when he reads something particularly intense.
You wonder if he’s single. If he likes rainy days or prefers the sun. If he’d like the sound of your laugh. If he’s ever looked at you and thought, maybe.
You don’t know it yet—you won’t, not for some time—but you’ve already begun loving him. Not in the way that demands. In the way that simply hopes. That soft, shapeless kind of affection that asks for nothing in return.
Your mother calls this phase infatuation. Your friends call it a crush. But it feels deeper than that, doesn’t it? 
Something older. Like a seed you’d forgotten you planted, blooming in the background of your everyday life.
You don’t talk to him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
You still show up every morning at 7:42 A.M., and that feels like something sacred.
Some people meet under fireworks. Others, under streetlights. 
You meet under the hum of subway rails, in the hush of early morning.
And even if nothing comes of it, you’ll remember this as the time you first saw Jeon Wonwoo—when your first love took root on a train that always ran late.
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Your second life starts with an assigned seat.
It’s the first day of the semester, and the classroom hums with new pens, old anxieties, and the sharp scent of whiteboard markers. The teacher calls out names alphabetically, and when she says “Jeon Wonwoo,” you don’t flinch.
You don’t remember him from the train, of course—not in this life. That’s how these things work.
He slides into the seat beside yours. A quiet presence that feels oddly familiar. You glance over, and he nods politely, lips pressed in a near-smile.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hey,” he replies. His voice is calm, deep, a little rough like he only just woke up.
This is your second life: the watering of seeds.
What started as quiet curiosity now stretches its limbs toward the light. You’re no longer strangers in motion, but classmates. Partners in the second row.
Wonwoo is the kind of student who doesn’t speak unless he has something to say, but when he does, it sticks with you. He lends you a pen on the second day without you asking. He shares a pack of sour candy with you during long lectures.
He passes you a note during a film screening that just says: This movie is terrible.
You laugh, quietly, and write back: You’re just saying that because you have no taste.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You wound me,” he murmurs, the words only for you to hear. A lot of Wonwoo’s words are that— yours and yours alone. 
You get partnered for a project. Your topic is obscure and boring, but somehow, working with him makes it bearable. You bicker. He rolls his eyes at your messy notes. You start staying late after class to finish the presentation.
One night, you’re both hunched over his laptop in the library. It’s raining outside. The air smells like paper and distant thunder.
“Do you believe in past lives?” you ask him out of nowhere.
He looks at you, long and unreadable. “I think we meet the same people over and over. Just in different ways,” he eventually says.
He’s indulging you. You’re not sure why. You push it, as if somehow wheedling an answer out of him might solve the pitter-patter in your chest. “So, maybe we’ve met before?”
“Maybe,” he says. Then, softer: “Feels like I’ve known you longer than a month.”
Your heart does that thing again. A steady lurch, like a train car that turned a corner a little too fast. 
It’s nothing. But it’s also everything.
He walks you home after. You share his umbrella. He offers the dry side of the sidewalk.
You don’t hold hands. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
But your sleeve brushes his once, twice. He doesn’t pull away.
The seeds are growing. They don’t know what they’ll become. They reach out of the soil and towards the sun anyway.
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In your third life, there is yield. Something that bears ripe fruit, enough for you to pick and take a bite of. 
Your mothers meet in the hospital nursery, trading horror stories about labor while you and Wonwoo cry in tandem from two separate cribs. Dual births, dual baby albums, dual high chairs at every party.
The houses share a fence, your families share garden tools and barbecues, and you and Wonwoo—well. You share everything else.
From the moment you could speak, you said his name like a reflex. 
Your first sentence was reportedly, “Where’s Woo-woo?” and his was your name, mispronounced and gummy.
The tapes your moms keep are a blur of toddler feet and wonky camera angles. There’s one where he’s in your kiddie pool wearing a bucket on his head, and you’re laughing like he just invented comedy.
No one ever sat you down to explain your friendship. It just existed, like gravity or rain. And maybe that’s why the feelings sneak up on you. You’ve never known life without Wonwoo—how are you expected to know when the air has started to shift?
The day it happens, you’re sixteen. Lying on the warm roof of the garden shed while he’s reading aloud from some fantasy book you insisted on but couldn’t get through. 
You’re not listening to the words. You’re watching the way his lips move, the way his lashes catch the sun. You’re trying to memorize the curve of his jaw, and then you’re thinking: Oh. Oh no.
You spend weeks pretending it didn’t happen.
“You good?” he asks once, when you nearly fall off the roof trying to avoid sitting too close.
“I'm fine,” you say, too fast.
He frowns, puts his book down. “You're acting weird.”
You sit up, brush dust off your shorts, make a face. “You’re weird.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“Shut up and read, Wonwoo.”
He does, but the silence between his sentences stretches.
It becomes harder to lie the more he smiles at you, the more he brushes dirt from your cheek or laughs at your jokes. You feel like you’re drowning in something warm and familiar, something you’ve known all your life but never named.
One night, after a school dance you don’t attend, he climbs through your window like always, hoodie slung over his shoulder. You’re sitting on your bed, and he flops beside you like gravity yanked him there.
“You ever think about stuff?” he asks.
You side-eye him. “That’s vague.”
“I mean, like... why some things feel easy. Like how we never had to try to be friends.”
You don’t say anything. The warmth in your chest is unbearable. He’s right there. He’s always been right there.
“Do you ever feel like we’ve known each other longer than we should’ve?” he continues, eyes on your ceiling. “Like, before this?”
You blink. Your heart pounds so loud, you’re sure he hears it.
“Sometimes,” you whisper. “Sometimes I think I’ve been in love with you before I even knew what love was.”
He turns to look at you. And Wonwoo—quiet, steady, unshakable Wonwoo—smiles like he’s been waiting all his lives to hear it.
“Me, too,” he says. 
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Your first life—
You wonder about him for years. His quiet demeanor, the books he read, the way he always stood near the door but let everyone pass him when it was his stop.
That was the first version of this feeling: Something sudden, warm, and unearned. Like the sun through a window. 
You never know his name, but you built stories around him on every ride, convinced that maybe, just maybe, he’ll turn around one day and say something. 
He never does. 
And when you graduate, change routes, move cities, you never see him again. He becomes nothing more than that. A story. A seed. A start—for what, you don’t know yet. 
Your second life— 
He had felt like a miracle, like fate circling back to tap you on the shoulder. You thought that love would bloom into something permanent. It felt like it should have. 
But timing is cruel, and the feelings—though mutual—couldn’t survive the storm of adolescence, the fear of messing up something tender. You tell yourself you weren’t meant to be.
You carry him with you anyway, in the songs you send each other, the paper cranes folded during long lectures, the way he once said your name like a secret he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
He walks you home, still, until he can’t. Until a lovely girl takes your place under his umbrella, and you find someone else to share your snacks with. 
At reunions, you exchange polite smiles and aborted nods. Both of you find happiness beyond each other.  
And then, the hardest of them all— 
The one who knew every bad haircut and birthday wish. The one who saw you through braces, heartbreak, and every awkward year in between.
You loved him with the kind of ease that novels try to replicate; for a moment, you thought that might be enough. But when the time came, when the feelings were named and returned, you both pulled back. 
Not out of fear, but reverence. 
Some things are too precious to touch. You’d rather have him forever as your constant, your anchor, than risk a goodbye too painful to bear.
“Maybe in our next life,” he breathes, forehead against yours, breath warm. “Maybe then we’ll be brave.”
You nod, your fingers curling over the front of his shirt like it might somehow keep him in place. “We always find each other, don’t we?”
He smiles. It looks a lot like a promise. 
In that life, you yield. 
At least you get to keep him. He delivers a tearful speech at your wedding. He makes you the godmother of his children. Your love reshapes into something else. One that still matters, even if it’s not the kind that you might have expected. 
Three versions of a first love. 
None of them last. All of them linger.
You don’t regret a single one.
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The fourth life begins like the others—quietly, without fanfare.
You meet Wonwoo at a time when everything is finally still. 
No childhoods to tiptoe around, no adolescent crushes that tilt into heartbreak. You aren’t sitting across from him in a classroom or watching him disappear behind the closing doors of a train.
He is simply there—on a late spring afternoon at a mutual friend’s dinner, wearing a gray sweater and a small, uncertain smile.
You don’t know it at the time, but this is the life you get to keep him.
It starts slow. There’s time, now. You learn him from the beginning, with no earlier version to compete with. And yet something familiar pulses beneath it all.
You know how he likes his coffee before he tells you. You can predict the rhythm of his speech, the slope of his laughter. You fall in love with him easily, steadily—like gravity pulling you to the ground.
He is your first love in this life. You don’t tell him. Not yet.
And then one day, you lose him.
The details don’t matter. A job offer. A choice. A goodbye. Whatever it is, you let go. It feels like the end of a story you’ve lived too many times before. You think: This is the harvest, and it was never mine to reap.
But you were promised joy in this life, weren’t you?
Years later, you see him again. A bar, this time. Familiar in a way that makes your throat tighten. He hasn’t changed much—still soft-eyed, still shy with his smiles.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, unsure if you want it to be him or not.
He turns. Freezes. His voice, calm and deep, amused and affectionate, shapes the words in the back of your mind: “I was hoping it’d be you.”
You sit. You drink. You talk.
You tell him, somewhere between the second and third beer, “You were my first love, you know.”
Sure, you’re talking about this life, but a part of you feels like it goes beyond that. You’re not sure how many iterations of this story exist in the book of the universe; all you know is that this simply cannot be the only time you’ve counted Wonwoo’s eyelashes, as if you might be able to make wishes with them. 
He looks at you for a long moment. Studies you. As if, he too, is mapping out the features of your face against versions of you that no longer exist.
“You were mine, too,” he says.
You laugh, disbelieving. “Really?”
“Really.” 
There’s silence. A good one.
And then finally, finally, he kisses you. No fanfare. No salty tears as you resolve to stay friends. It’s not a daydream on the subway, not a fleeting thought in a library. 
It’s just that same, steady gravity of eventuality. 
When his hand finds yours, when your lips press together, when he pulls apart with a half-smile, you know. Jeon Wonwoo is your first love, and this time, he’ll be your last love, too.
In this life, you finally reap what you sowed.
In this life, the love lasts. 
531 notes · View notes
duskbornraven · 2 months ago
Text
Veteran, Doctor, Wedding Date
Never in my life have I finished a sex scene in writing. This fandom has broken me. There is a second part in the works for the actual wedding, because I am weak willed when it comes to him.
Paring: Jack Abbot x f!Reader
Warnings: mdni, sex with plot, female reader, Oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, general teasing, implied age gap.
Summary: Weddings take up a lot of time, especially when you're dating the best man. Part 2 is here
Word Count: 4k
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It had been too many years since Jack had been to a wedding. Let alone asked to be in a wedding party, but when one of your best friends asks you to be his best man you can’t really say no. Even harder when said friend oh so politely reminded him that he could bring his cute new girlfriend. 
So here he was, sitting on the couch waiting for you to get home. The TV was on but he wasn’t really watching it. Anticipation weighed on him. He knew first hand that people got weird about weddings. There was an unspoken weight around them, and he hadn’t asked anyone to be his date to anything in what felt like an eternity. 
He still managed to fall asleep on the couch, and was startled awake when he heard the familiar click of the lock. Snapping his head up to a dimly lit living room, bathed in the flickering light of the TV. Pushing himself more upright, the fog of sleep still fighting to pull him back under. 
With a groan he scrubbed his face, forcing himself to wake up, so you could have this conversation. Watching you kick your shoes off, braced against the door to avoid overbalancing. “Did you make it upstairs at all?” You were still facing away from him but he could hear the smile in your voice. 
“I did, thank you.” His mock indignation getting a laugh from you, making your way over to throw yourself down on the opposite end of the couch, stretching out with a continent sigh. 
“What’s on your mind?” You tapped his leg with a toe, leaning up to get a better look at him. “You’re burning a hole in the wall.” 
“I was asked to be in a wedding later this year.” Jack turned himself on the couch to face you “And, I was wondering if you would be my date.” 
He knew the answer before you even opened your mouth to speak. Your eyes lit up as you pushed yourself the rest of the way into a sitting position. The way you beamed at him, practically glowing in the low light of the room. “Of course I will.” Your excitement was hardly concealed. 
You leaned forward kneeling on the couch, braced on his shoulder, to peck him on the cheek before leaning in for a lingering kiss. His head tilted back slightly to meet your lips. A hand wrapped reassuringly around your arm to keep you balanced, the other coming to rest on your hip. 
You pulled away, looking down into his eyes, unable to keep the smile from your face. Watching his face soften as he took you in again. A grin slowly spreading over his own tired features. Letting you settle back on the couch beside him. An arm draped over the back of the couch, fingertips just brushing against your shoulder. 
“Didn’t really have a plan if you said no. Considering my backup date would have been the groom.” You pushed him away lightly, moving yourself more than him with a scoff. 
“Do you know when it is yet?” You chose to ignore his comment. ‘I’ll make sure to get some time off from work.” 
“Not yet, he’s supposed to be getting a hold of me about that since it’s going to be a scheduling nightmare. I don’t know how they’re going to get by without us for a night.” His hand left the couch to run through his hair absently. 
“Do you maybe want to finish this conversation after you get a nap in old man?” You pressed a kiss to his temple ignoring the look he shot you. 
“You know I do a pretty decent job keeping up with you last time I checked.” It was hard to read his expression in the low lighting but you could catch the way his head tilted almost like a challenge. The faintest hint of a smirk still plastered to his face. 
“You do. But have you considered I’m using you as an excuse to take a nap and get some quiet time with my boyfriend for once?” You challenged him back, trying your best to keep a straight face. 
Wordlessly he hauled himself up. Then turned to offer you a hand, helping you to your feet. Once you were upstairs it didn’t take long for you to drift off, an alarm set for an hour in the future. More importantly, Jack’s arm wrapped securely around you and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. 
Months passed quietly, comfortably between the night he asked you to come with him. He had steadily been pulled more and more into the planning and preparation. Which meant less sleep and less time with you. 
Jack still made the effort, still made sure he caught you to kiss you goodbye and was home to kiss you before work if he had to be out. But between your work schedules and the approaching wedding date you hadn’t had time for much outside a quick kiss here or there. 
And it was starting to get the better of both of you. 
When the time came to actually go get fitted for a suit he found you waiting for him in the bedroom, laying on the bed still only in a stolen shirt that had once been his, watching him emerge from the bathroom. He stalled in the doorway taking you in, laying on your back, your bare legs bent to let your feet plant on the bed. 
 “Don't you tempt me, I can’t be late to this one.” With effort he managed to pull his focus to getting dressed, aware you were watching as he zipped up his jeans. 
“I wasn’t trying to.” But he saw the way your eyes also lingered, dragging themselves over his half naked body. 
“And hypothetically if you were, I’d make it up to you tonight.” He leaned over you pressing a kiss to your lips. Melting into your touch as your hands skated over the planes of his chest before looping around the back of his neck, letting you pull him in closer, his weight pressing you further into the bed. Your hand tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened. Weeks of want and frustration just below the surface as the heat between you. 
Shattered by the ringing of his phone from the bathroom. 
Pulling away his head hit the mattress, breathing heavily against your neck, pressing a trail kisses along your jaw before slowly pushing himself upright. Reluctantly you let him push away from you, almost aching as the warmth of his body left yours. Not missing the way he adjusted the growing bulge in his jeans before hearing his frustrated voice from the other room. “Yeah, be down in a minute.” 
You sat up on the bed watching him as he pulled a shirt over his head, glancing over at you still watching him. “Not trying to be tempting?” 
“Maybe a little.” You didn’t quite meet his eyes. 
“Then I’ll have to see if I can’t return the favor when I get home.” He leaned down again, capturing you in another searing kiss that was unfairly short lived. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 
You listened to the front door slam behind him. Still perched on the edge of the bed listening to the sound of wheels on pavement. It had been too long since the pair of you had been home for more than a few minutes, even on his days off it felt like he was helping with something these days. 
Which was fine most of the time, but you missed him, missed finding him asleep on the couch when you got home from work. Or getting to sleep in with him on your days off, the weight of him on top of you. The way you would find yourself casually reaching out to touch him when you spread out on the couch together. 
You forced yourself to get up and move, heading for the shower to at least make an effort to start the day. By the time you had made yourself a meal there was an unopened message from Jack. A mirror photo of him, half changed into formal wear. Pants unzipped and shirt unbuttoned, his face was mostly covered by the phone itself but you could see the hint of a smirk playing across his features. 
You stood there, frozen for what felt like an eternity starting at it. You finally backed out to and were about to type out something when another photo started to load in. Now fully dressed, with his arm around a groomsman, like wasn’t sending you thirst traps from the dressing room. You debated not giving him the satisfaction but you were pretty sure he knew it had worked.
You reacted to the messages and asked how it was going. Saving some of your decency hopefully by not openly showing he had gotten under your skin. It took a few minutes for him to reply. 
Good. Getting dinner and drinks after this but I’ll be home right after. 
You started to type back a reply, scrolling back to the first photo, the too pleased expression on his hardly visible face. The fact that you almost had him before he left replaying in your head. It was hard enough making the time with your schedules and now he was so busy. And this man had the audacity to tease you like that. 
If he wanted to play that game you could play that game. Phone in hand you scrambled back up the steps, an excited fluttering in your gut. There was one thing that would give you the unfair advantage, the shirt you had to stop stealing. After you had moved in you had been granted access to his old shirts. Jack insisted that he didn’t care what you stole, as long as he got it back. 
But he did, he just hadn’t known it. You had dug out one of his old shirts from the army. Had picked it because of its age, it felt like a piece of him when you missed him. That morning you woke up with your alarms as usual, rolling out of bed before the sun. Half awake you had stumbled your way downstairs to make coffee as the front door swung open, the familiar sound of shoes on the hardwood letting you know Jack had made it home. 
A moment later the footsteps stopped, freezing in the doorway to the kitchen behind you. The feeling of being watched buzzed in the back of your head, prompting you to turn. There he had stood, frozen, eyes focused solely on you. Suddenly feeling very naked you had turned to face him. 
You had been late for work that morning, and every other morning you had mistakenly decided to wear that particular shirt to bed. As exhausted as he was when he came home he always seemed to find the energy those mornings. It had become a pattern, so much so that you had given up wearing it, almost forgotten it existed. Until now. 
It took some digging to find. Buried under newer clothes, newer memories but where you had expected to find it. Embarrassingly enough the sight of the shirt alone was enough to make you feel warm. Memories associated with the way the fabric felt bunched in your hands resurfacing. 
You looked around like someone would catch you undressing in your own home before changing into it. Like the man who once wore it it had softened slightly with age, still sturdy but not as stiff as it had once been. It felt like an extension of Jack, a piece of his past made tangible. Maybe that’s why you had always loved it. 
You kicked your shorts off for good measure before positioning yourself in the mirror. The fabric covered just enough to make a point, the tiniest hint of bare skin showing in the reflection. 
Filtering through the photos until you landed on one that was perfect. Mimicking his own smug expression, phone held to the side, making sure to capture your back in the mirror. Completely innocent on a first glance, if anyone other than Jack saw you it would seem like a sweet picture from his girl. 
You hit send and retrieved the shorts, slipping them back on. Your phone dinged twice in short succession before you even had them all the way back on. 
That’s evil. 
I’m coming home. 
You had him, but you knew that before you even sent the picture. The second the idea popped into your head you won this little battle of wills. You wanted him home, but not at the cost of something important. Something he might regret missing. 
Stay, be with your friends. I’ll see you tonight. 
Fine. But you’re not changing. Be home as soon as we’re done. 
Battle won you settled yourself on the couch, determined to distract yourself, to make the time move faster while you waited. 
Say one thing for Jack Abbot, he’s a man of his word. He got dropped off around eight, a few drinks in and had practically pushed his ride into the truck when they got to the parking lot. The flush of liquor warming him in the cool night air as he made his way inside. 
You had been on his mind since he left, the weeks of pent up frustration slowly building to this moment. It took no time to spot you in your usual spot on the couch, half focusing on a movie, half looking at something on your phone. He settled heavily onto his spot on the couch, watching but not watching the TV. Far too aware that you were slowly sliding yourself closer to him.
“How was your night?” You spoke first, glancing up from your phone, finally making contact with his leg at the other end of the couch. 
“Good, I'm ready to have my weekends back.” He glanced over at you, a hand resting on your shin, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles into the exposed skin. 
You hummed in agreement, going back to your phone. Pretending that you weren’t aware of the way his eyes were watching you. Ignoring the slow press of his body against yours until he was pressed into your side one arm pinned beneath his weight. A hand skating over the fabric of the stolen shirt. 
Holding himself over you, meeting you in a slow, desperate kiss. Groaning into your mouth when you pulled him in closer, beer still lingering on his tongue. 
He pulled away to press kisses along your jaw, just catching the whispered “missed you” that escaped you with a heavy sigh. 
He stilled above you for a moment, pausing before he spoke, whispering against your jaw “How much?” 
You squirmed under him watching a hand slowly slide up your leg, brushing at the hem of your shorts. When you didn’t answer right away he spoke again. “Because I know how much I’ve missed you.” The faintest scratch of teeth along the shell of your ear. “Missed this.” 
Heat radiating from your skin against his touch, fingers dipping breath the fabric of your shorts and inching along the soft skin of your thighs. Mouth claiming the sensitive skin just over your pulse. You could feel a twitch of a smile against your neck when a moan escaped your lips. 
His free hand abandoning your thigh to instead slide beneath your shirt, thumb teasing the elastic of your bra, leaning away to watch your expression. To take in the way your breathing caught as his hand pressed into your soft skin, savoring the way you felt against him.
“I’m going to need you to work with me.” And his arm was around your shoulders, pulling you against him, rolling himself under you. With you helping he was able to mostly pull you solidly on top of him, if not a little awkwardly. 
“Better.” He sighed, adjusting himself slightly beneath you. Hands wrapping around you to capture you in another kiss, more desperate than the last. His hand tangling in your hair bucking up against you chasing the fleeting friction against you. 
The groan you got in response to your own desperate grind against him sent a jolt of arousal through your body, adding to the pooling heat between your legs. Your desperate movements doing nothing to relieve the ache, if anything it made your movements more desperate against him. 
Jack clearly felt the same way, hands pushing down your shorts, thumbs hooking deftly in the elastic of your panties, sliding them both down your thighs, supporting you as you kicked them off entirely. Your hands travel down, fumbling with his belt for a second before managing to undo his jeans and helping him tugg them off. 
He didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on the damp patch of cloth staining his boxers. Watched as his cock twitched under your gaze. Hands pull you forwards again, pressing his clothed erection against your own soaked cunt. Still not enough but his deliberate grind pulled a broken moan from you, head falling forwards into the crook of his neck. Mindlessly chasing the sensation, grinding down against him. 
“Someone’s eager.” His voice thick with need as he bucked against you again. Dragging that fucking shirt over your head, nipping at the exposed skin he could reach. 
It was nowhere near enough, the drag of cloth doing little to ease the ache. Pulling away to be able to practically tear away the last of the fabric separating you. Swallowing thickly at the sight of him, settling back between his thighs. 
Keeping eye contact as you leaned in, licking a hot stripe from base to tip. That earned you an exhale that was dangerously close to a growl. Jack’s eyes didn’t leave yours, pupils totally blown as he watched you take his tip slowly in your mouth. Watched you even as your eyes fluttered shut, slowly inching your way down his length. With all the restraint in the world he kept his hips still when he felt the brush of the back of your throat. 
A hand brushing hair out of your face, settling at the back of your head, letting you feel the faint scrape of nails against your scalp with the swirl of your tongue and you began move, setting a pace just restrained enough to not be a tease, but not nearly enough to get him to break. Swallowing thickly around him, losing yourself in the weight of him, the increasingly desperate noises coming from above you. 
Pulling away enough to meet his eyes “Who’s eager now?” Pressing a kiss to his tip before taking him to the base again. Settling into the same steady rhythm, watching him come undone under you. 
“So fucking pretty. Can’t help it” It came out raw, almost unrecognizable as his voice. Still watching, eyes locked on the way your lips parted around his cock. Watching as you squirmed into the fabric beneath you, trying desperately to find your own relief. 
A tug from the hand still half tangled in your hair got you to pull away with an obscene pop, slightly breathless and lips swollen. Becking you forward again, sliding backwards to sit more upright against the arm of the couch. 
Those familiar hands guided you down, firm hands pressing your hips against him. Not letting you take him yet, a slow teasing thrill running through you again as he dragged between your folds. Letting up to let you set the pace, hips pressed to yours, matching your pace as you finally were able to chase away your own desperate need. 
The frim press of a thumb against your clit made you almost come undone. Hips stuttering against his as preassue built at your core, back arching arching. His other hand skating up your back, skilled hands unclasping your bra in one fluid motion, another piece of clothing discarded somewhere in the dark room. 
It was like you were being consumed by flame, burning hands teasing hardened nippels, rolling them lightly between practiced fingers. Another circling your clit, helping you come undone grinding against his leaking cock. Your breathy moans echoed in desperate shaky breaths beneath you. You were barely holding on, hips jerking erratically against his. 
“Let go.” That was all that it took. His voice was raw and quiet, strained with need. 
The building crescendo of tension snapped, stilling against him,hands braced against his chest as pleasure wracked your body, fluttering against him as you came, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. Slumping forward, breathing hard. Your breath is almost too warm against the sweat collecting on your bodies. 
Jack kissed you again, slow, tender, letting the tremors run their course against him. Completely still beneath you. Cupping your face and grounding you again as you came down from the high or your orgasam. 
Pulling away, a thin line of saliva still connecting you briefly he adjusted beneath you again. He rolled against you again, a moan falling from your lips. Pushing against his chest you were disappointed to still find the cloth of his shirt, damp with sweat and very much in the way of wandering hands. 
Your hand slid under the hem, sliding it up. Reaching back with the other to stroke him before taking a breath and sinking down onto him. Jack’s head falling back exhaling through his teeth as fluttering walls gripped him, pulling him in. “fuck”
You clenched around him when your hips met. Hangs tightening their grip on your hips grinding into you. Hungry eyes glued to where you met, watching as you started to move, lifting yourself to ride him. 
You knew he wasn’t far from his own release. What little composure he had held onto was already cracking, his hips jerking erratically against yours. Already sensitive and moving at your own reckless pace once you adjusted, nails biting into skin. His thumb returning to circle your already over sensitive clit. Fatigue battling pleasure as heat sparked through you once again.  
A pathetic whine escaped your mouth, bracing against his shoulder, almost frenzied in your movements as pleasure wound tight once more. The room falling silent other than the sound of your labored breathing. Focusing solely on chasing senestion, watching the man beneath you coming undone, jaw clenched and breathing hard as you rode him.
Your second orgasm ripped through you. Your walls spasming around him slumping forwards bonelessly onto his chest. Arms circled you, hips snapping against yours, breathing ragged in your ear. 
A your name tumbling from his lips his hips stuttered against yours, finishing inside you, leaving you feeling impossibly full. You stayed like that for a minute, both breathing heavily. Still riding the high of your climax. 
“Shower?” You offered, pressing a slightly breathless kiss to his forehead. He nodded wordlessly, reaching past you to offer you your discarded clothes and helping you get off him without making a mess of the fabric below you. 
Waking the next morning you felt heavier than you had the past few nights. Blinking slowly you realized that you were pinned, your legs tangled with Jack’s, his arm thrown over your shoulders. The weight of him was almost alien the past week. Extra heat tangled around you along with the sheets. 
Moving slowly you tried to extricate yourself, tossing and tuning would likely wake him and you were awake enough. You managed to free your legs from the sheet and were slowly pulling out from under him when the arm around you flexed, pulling you closer. 
“Stay.” He murmured, arms tightening around you, shifting to press a kiss to your temple. “Just a little longer.” 
You let him pull you into him, the warmth of his chest at your back, the steady pulse of his heart against your skin. The comforting scent of him filling your lungs with each breath. It was hard to resist letting your world become Jack Abbot for just a little longer. 
626 notes · View notes
k3n-dyll · 1 year ago
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☆F.U.C.K
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Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine
Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back
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FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.
And yours of course.
Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.
It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.
The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.
"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.
"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.
"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.
"I lied."
Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.
"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.
"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."
In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.
In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.
"Figured it out, pretty girl?"
Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.
"You wanna see it?"
The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.
"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"
You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.
"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"
Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.
She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.
"Abby..."
"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"
Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.
"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.
Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.
"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"
The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.
"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"
The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.
Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.
"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.
"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.
Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.
"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.
"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"
The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.
Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.
"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.
"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.
Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.
"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"
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Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,
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slytherinsimp12 · 3 months ago
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊
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Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: James Potter was charming, mischievous, captain of the quidditch team and very popular among the girls at Hogwarts. He had a certain talent for making his presence aware , a charisma that was unmatchable. You didn’t have many friends, no matter how hard you tried, people never seemed to acknowledge you. To put it quite plainly, you were the polar opposite of James. You spent years trying to push out and ignore any romantic feelings you had for him, because come on… there is no way he even knows you exist…. Right?
Warnings: Mild swearing and kissing/ making out.
Author’s Note: Hi my loves, this is part 1 of a mini series called- Gold rush. I will keep updating, as fast as I can. If you like my work, feel free to send in requests and leave comments 💌. Happy reading xx. Part 2 and Part 3 out now! (Comment to be added to the taglist)
The lively chatter of students filled the corridors. Golden light shone on the cold, aged walls. The air was heavy with the scent of old books, dust and a hint of magic. You made your way towards the dungeons, just in time for Potions class. You were fairly late; your usual spot was taken by another student. You scanned the classroom, looking for a vacant seat. Unfortunately, there was only one, at the very front of the class.
You settled in the empty seat, when you noticed the boy sitting next to you. His messy black hair was overgrown, and ruffled in a way that looked purposeful. His hazel eyes appeared large beneath his round glasses. James Potter was unreasonably attractive, that wasn’t a secret. You spent your first few years at Hogwarts trying to deny it, but it was of no use. You tried telling yourself his good looks didn’t make up for his arrogant and vexatious personality. He was insufferable.
You hated the way he paraded around the school, hands casually tucked in his pockets, increasing his voice by a few extra decibels whenever a pretty girl walked by. You hated the way he effortlessly drew attention to himself as soon as he walked into a room. And what you hated the most, was when he would catch your gaze lingering on him for a little too long.
“Good morning students. I will be assigning you your partners from now onwards. You will stick to these arrangements for the rest of the academic year.” Professor Slughorn announced, earning disappointed groans from the whole class.
“I have learned my lesson after the ‘incidents’ young Mr. Potter and Mr.Black have caused.” He continued, causing wide grins to spread across James and Sirius’ faces.
Slughorn spent most of the lesson reading out the pairs he had made. You were growing impatient, he hadn’t called out your name yet, maybe this was the perfect opportunity to finally make a new friend… and you know, make it last this time.
“Mr.Potter and Ms. Y/L/N” The professor called out.
You have got to be kidding me, you thought to yourself, a horrified look plastered across your face.
“Why that face, love? I don’t bite” James said turning towards you, then to Sirius and letting out a laugh.
You rolled your eyes and left class, saved by the bell.
The next day, you decided to spend your free time in the library and catch up on some homework. Immersed in your work, you almost didn’t notice the figure walking towards you.
“Feeling studious, are we?” James asked, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward.
“I was, until you came along.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, as you stared packing your things up.
“Wait, where are you going?” James asked.
“I’m sorry, is there something in particular you want from me?” You snapped.
“You’re my new potions partner aren’t you? I thought we could study for the upcoming test together.” He said cooly.
“Right… well, I’m y/n.” You said, extending your hand.
“You’re kidding right?” James asked, with an almost offended expression.
“Why would I be kidding about my name?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Bloody hell… I know who you are y/n!” James exclaimed. “Third year, Defence against the dark arts, fourth year transfiguration and history of magic and fifth year, divination and astronomy. Those are all the classes we had together, do you not remember?” James continued.
“Oh- um… yea, I guess.” You said, dumbfounded. You remembered. You obviously remembered. How could you forget? But the real question was, how in Merlin’s Name did James freaking Potter know who you were? Did you hit your head and fall into an alternate reality, where you were one of the bimbos he noticed?
It had been a week since that unforeseen encounter with James. He would wink at you during meals or purposefully walk too close to you in the corridors, just enough for your shoulders to brush. He would pretend like he didn’t notice you, but you could feel his stare penetrate when you weren’t looking.
The following night, you woke up in a cold sweat. Your stomach was churning with nausea; it must have been the puking pasties a girl named Marlene gave you.
You were in desperate need of fresh air. Careful not to wake your dorm mates, you slipped out of bed, not caring that you’re in your pyjamas and decided to take a stroll around the castle. You had to be really cautious to not get caught, you didn’t want your house to loose points. You made your way to the dungeons, as it had a lovely view of the black lake.
“Light them up before Filch comes!” A voice whispered.
“What if the Slytherins wake up!” A shrill voice filled with fear added.
“Leave if you must , Pete! But do not ruin this for the rest of us.” You could recognise that voice anywhere.
You peaked your head from the corner of a wall, spotting James and his group of friends, ‘the marauders’, they called themselves. How cheesy. They were in-front of the Slytherin common room, with what seemed to be dung bombs and fire crackers in their hands.
‘Bloody hell. They’re mental.’ You thought to yourself.
“Shit! Run!” One of the voices shouted.
The crackers exploded, creating loud sounds and a strong pungent smell. From a distance, you could see Filch running towards the mess. Suddenly, you felt someone grab you from behind. Before you could shout, their hand covered your mouth. You turned your head to see James signalling you to be quiet. He pulled you into a hidden corner as Filch scoured the surroundings, looking for the culprits behind the mess.
He released his hand from your mouth.
“What the hell! What are you guys doing! Have you absolutely lost your minds??!!” You whisper shouted.
“Y/N Y/L/N, are you following me?To answer your question, no our minds are very much intact. Just a bit of sweet revenge on the Slytherins. Nothing special.” James smirked.
You noticed just how close the both of you were standing. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. You could see the soft curve of his lips and the slight flush in his cheeks. You could hear his heart racing.
He lifted his arm, gently brushing a strand of stray hair away from your face.
Whatever gap was there between the two of you, was closed by James. His lips crashed into yours with an intensity that set your skin on fire. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. All the years of pent up emotions you felt for James came rushing. He pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath, the overwhelming force left you reeling.
“Prongs! Prongs, where are you?” A voice hissed.
“Shit.” James said, through clenched teeth.
“Prongs?” You asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.
“It’s Sirius. I’ve got to go. Will you be able to go back to your dorm on your own?” James questioned.
You nodded.
“Catch you later, y/n” He said, flashing you that famous James Potter smile.
That alone was enough to make your heart melt.
(All rights reserved, ©)
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nineteenninety-six · 3 months ago
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── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Devastation
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Pairing: Michael Robinavitch x Daughter!Reader
AN: Be cautious of ooc-ness and whatever medical inaccuraces are in there.
WC: 5K
TW: Death, mass shooting, blood, gun violence, ep 12/13, etc
Synopsis: The tragedgy at Pittfest brings brings a victim that devastates Dr Robby
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"Hey, look who's in the house!" 
You grin as Langdon jumps up from his seat, greeting you with a hug before moving to dap up and hug Jake who trailed in behind you, which catches Dana's attention as she quickly pulls away from what she was doing to greet the both of you.
It had been a while since you had visited the hospital, more focused on studying to get into your top choice of school but today was Pittfest and you were here to collect the tickets after your father dropped out at the last minute, picking up today's shift.
The hug she pulls you into is the usual warm, comforting one she normally provides and you melt into it slightly before pulling away as she greets Jake the same way.
"Baby Robby and Jake the Snake! It's eleven a.m, aren't you supposed to be in school?" Dana exclaims.
"Our moms let us ditch for Pittfest." Jake explains.
"How are your mamas?"
"Oh, she's restoring some house in Squirrel Hill, so, you know, she's pretty busy."
"My mom's good too, she's out of town currently—work trip so I've been staying around dad's"
Langdon pipes up, "That's cool. You, uh... you looking for Robby?"
"Yeah, he's got our festival passes." Jake explains.
"Oh, you going together?" Langdon asks
"We were supposed to, but, you know, I decided to go with a friend."
You laugh at Jake burying the lede, "'Friend'...sure"
"What's her name?" 
"...Leah."
"Okay. Okay."
"Okay, okay. Don't hold out on us. We need details. Where'd you meet? How long have you been together?"
Langdon and Dana tease Jake.
"We met at junior lifeguards this summer. And we've been dating for two months. Yeah, she's pretty great."
"That's sweet. I'm happy for you, kiddo. I'm gonna go find Robby, let him know you're here." Dana smiles at Jake before taking off but you are quick to join her, following as she searched for your father.
Your parents divorced when you were two years old. Your parents loved each other, they really did but your father carried, not just his, but all of his colleagues troubles heavily within himself and didn't let them go. He was the listening ear and the comforting shoulder of his fellow doctors, nurses and even patients and that is who he was, a kind caring man who, more often than not, put others before himself and that was what caused the downfall of the relationship. Your father was a great man who shouldered too much and rarely opened up. 
You were born in the midst of his residency and though your parents were separated by the time he completed it, your mother also moved when he went to Pittsburgh, not wanting to separate you from your father. Years after that, he met and dated Janie and took her son Jake under his wing, forming a close bond with his not quite stepson.
You became easy friends with Jake as soon as you met him. You were close in age but Robby had feared you would be jealous as he tried to split what little free time he had between you, and fostering a relationship with Janie and Jake. He already had guilt about pulling you and your mother away from the friends and family you had in New Orleans, bringing you all the way to Pittsburgh and now he had a new relationship. Robby truly feared what he would have done if you hadn't got along but as soon as the two of you met, you had gotten along like a house on fire. Nowadays, you and Jake considered each other siblings, it didn't matter that you weren't even blood related as far as you were concerned, the two of you were brother and sister.
Which led you to this very moment, visiting the hospital to pick up the Pittfest tickets after your father dropped out last minute, leaving Jake to invite his new girlfriend, which you had no problem with but you were looking forward to spending time as a family.
"I'm surprised to see you here honestly, your father says your head is constantly stuck in your books these days" Dana interrogated you as you walked through the ED, looking for your father.
"It is. Which is why he tried so hard to convince me to come with him and Jake today, so you can imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning to see a text from dad, telling me he won't be able to come since he covered the shift last minute." You complain.
Dana's voice softens," You know what day it is today."
You nod, your tone softening, "I know. It's part of the reason why I agreed to go, to ya'know keep him away from the hospital and keep him distracted but... you know now dad is. This place is his second home and basically another child."
Dana pats your arm comfortingly just as you spy your father talking to Dr Collins. Dana calls his name, his head whipping towards the both of you as you walk up to them, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.
"Look who came wandering in!" Dana gestures towards you.
"Hey kid!" Your father pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead, squeezing you once before pulling back. "How are ya?"
You roll your eyes fondly, "I'm doing fine dad."
Your eyes flicker towards the other doctor and greet her with a kind smile, "Hi Dr Collins"
Heather Collins doesn't have an opportunity to respond as Robby asks a question about a patient of his. Then his attention is caught by something else and suddenly he's walking away to tackle a problem as you yell to him that you'II be at the nurses station before he disappears. You wave goodbye at the two women before returning back to the nurses station where your brother waits.
When you return you find Langdon spinning in a chair, trying to match Jake's record from a few years ago.
"43, 44, 45...Whoa! 46, 47." Jake laughs as he counts
"Ugh!"
"You're not gonna beat my record!"
 "Ohh. How the hell did you stay on for 80?" Langdon looks like he's on the urge of throwing up.
"It helps if you don't have much going on up there" You tease as you walk by, tapping Jake's head."
Jake huffs and pushes you away before turning back to Langdon, "I'm 17, and I'm more fit than you." 
Everybody's attention gets caught by a patient being rolled past them, the topic of conversation changing.
"That kid looks our age." Jake murmurs
Langdon nods, "Yeah, he is."
"What happened to him?"
 "Stressed-out 18-year-old took some pills off the internet to help him sleep. They were laced with fentanyl."
 "Is he gonna make it?" You quietly ask.
 "Mm." Langdon shakes his head no before he turns to you, "Your dad is always talking about how hard you're studying to get into college and I'm sure he's told you a million times but don't go buying drugs off the internet."
You rapidly nod, "I know, I know."
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You nibbled on the snack Jake had gotten for you from the waiting room vending machines as you waited for your father to come back from the most recent crisis in the ED that demanded his presence. It didn't bother you, in fact you loved to watch the ED operate in all of its wild, unpredictable chaos, it only solidified your desire to become a doctor. 
"Glad you stuck around." Robby says as he approaches the nurses station after talking with Langdon.
"It's not like we had a choice, did we?"
"No, not really." Robby laughs.
"So how's your day going?"
"Uh, it's going."
"Cool, cool, cool."
"Why do you ask?" Robby does a double take of Jake, catching on almost immediately that something was up.
"Guy can't ask?"
"You never ask me about my work. What gives?" 
"Mom wanted me to ask because she just wants to make sure that you're doing okay." 
Your father turns to you after Jake's admission, "Is your mom curious as well?"
You shake your head, laughing as you joke, "You know mom doesn't care about you."
Your father managed to end on friendly amicable terms with all of his ex partners and you weren't the sole reason why your parents stayed in contact. Despite breaking up, they did genuinely get along with each other, always making sure the other was taken care of.
Your father huffs disbelievingly at your words before he returns his attention back to Jake, "That's very sweet of her. I'm doing fine." 
Robby diggs out the tickets and passes them to Jake, "Thank you for these again." 
"You can thank me by finally introducing me to your girlfriend." 
"Not today but soon."
You and Jake get ready to leave the hospital, moving to step away from the nurses station.
 "Have fun. Hey, I know it goes without saying, but please be safe." Your dad tells the both of you.
"We will." You respond in unison.
"Seriously. Don't take anything from anyone. I've already seen two fentanyl overdoses today. It's not even noon."
"We promise." 
"Okay." 
"Basketball Sunday?" Robby and Jake hug each other. 
"Yep, wouldn't miss it. Hey, before you go, before you go." Your father pauses as he digs into his pocket for his wallet,
"Please don't hand me a cоndоm." 
"What?!" You interrupt.
"Cоndоm? I was gonna give you extra cash." Robby freezes, cash in hand. "Wait, are you having sеx?"
"Thank you!" Jake quickly grabs the money that's offered before speeding away.
Your dad pulls out more money and offers it to you, which you accept with a grateful smile, stuffing it in your pocket, "Thanks."
"Listen," Your father pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your head, "I know you wanted me to come with you guys and I'm sorry-"
"It's fine" You interrupt, burrowing more into the hug, "I understand."
"I'll make it up to you- you were talking about a graduation trip to California?"
You perked up at that, peering up at him, "You'll come?"
"Of course," Robby grins, "You should get going before Jake disappears."
You jingle your car keys in your hand, "He's not going to get far, I'm the one who drove us here."
"Alright," Your father pulls you into another tight hug, kissing the top of your head before pulling away, "I'll see you later. I love you."
You wave at him as you walk away, "I love you too."
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You giggled as you danced around to the music that played from the stage with Leah. Twirling each other around and jumping around as Jake recorded you. You had all just gotten off a facetime call with your father where Leah briefly met him before you returned to enjoying your time at the festival.
You were so caught up in enjoying yourself you didn't hear the first pops that echoed throughout the field, it wasn't until more rang out and people realised what was happening and then panic set in as everybody rushed to safety, running every which way causing people to get separated and others to get crushed as fear and the fight for survival inhabited everyone.
You grabbed Jake's hand, who in turn grabbed Leah before you ran for safety, hiding behind a food stall as you tried to think about your next steps. 
You tried to ignore the screams surrounding you but with your heart racing and fear turning your legs into jello, you were having very little success. A squeeze to your hand brought you back to reality as you stared at the petrified faces of Jake and Leah as they looked at you for guidance.
"O-okay, w-we just uh-" You stumbled over your words, your mind was a mess as you tried to think clearly, "T-there's only o-one ex-exit but we s-stick together o-okay?"
At Jake and Leah's scared nod, you close your eyes and steady your breathing, you gather your thoughts and try to bury the fear until you are in the clear and safe. With one last steading breath, you open your eyes and nod back at Jake and Leah.
"We have no idea where the shooter is so we're just going to have to run, we don't know if he's on the field so just head for the exit. Look ahead, not at the ground or at others and we're going to hold onto each other as tight as we can, we're escaping this together."
Jake and Leah agree and you join hands before you peer over the edge of the stall, looking at your surroundings but it was such a manic panic out there you couldn't really tell what was happening. People were running in every direction, people were dead and injured on the floor, people were getting crushed by the stampede or suffering the effects of drug overdose, it was all blurring together. You tried to see if you could tell which direction the bullet shots were coming from but they echoed and you couldn't pinpoint its direction.
"Follow me and run okay?" 
Together you stand up and run. You speed towards the exit as you try your hardest to ignore the screams and cries around you and focus on your brother's hand in yours and the exit in the distance.
A shot rings out and Jake stumbles and falls to the ground. A gasp and cry escapes you as you crouch down next to him, your hands frantically running over his body, fearing that he had been shot in a critical place.
"It's just my leg! I'm fine, I'm fine!" Jake's words are a comfort in the chaos and you help him up with the help of Leah and together you shoulder his weight as you stumble towards the exit, Jake's adrenaline helping.
One Step. Two Steps. Three Steps.
Pfft.
One Step. Two—
Your legs collapse beneath you and your body careens to the floor, landing with a muffled thump. 
Warmth bleeds beneath you as you lay face down in the grass, your mind is fuzzy as a hand on your shoulder pulls you onto your back so you're gazing up at the rapidly darkening sky.
A sudden pressure on your chest brings you back to reality as you gasp in pain, a sudden overwhelming, painful and burning pain washing over you and lingering on your chest.
The last thing you see are Jake and Leah's petrified expressions as they hover over you before your eyes flutter shut.
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"She was talking when we first got in the truck…" Robby paused as he heard Jake's voice, "There... There was so much blood. I tried to stop it."
 "Jake!" Robby rushed over to the pickup truck, pulling himself up onto the bed.
"Robby!" Jake stumbles over your name, "—got shot! It's really bad!"
Robby freezes in his movements when he sees you unconscious in Jake's lap, Dr Ellis taking over putting pressure on your wound from Leah.
 There's a ringing in his ears as all Robby can focus on at that moment is your face. You look peaceful almost, undisturbed by the chaos surrounding you but the blood staining you, brings him back to reality.
"I've been putting pressure on the wound the whole time." Jake's voice is filled with panic.
Robby swallows terror that creeps up his throat, "Yeah, that's good. That's good. Are you shot?"
"I don't... maybe my leg. Most of this is her blood." Jake becomes closer to tears with every moment.
After helping Jake and Leah down from the bed of the truck, they pull your body onto a bed before rushing into the ED.
"Jake, you can't stay with her." Robby told him from the other side of your bed as you pushed through the ED.
"I have to." Jake protests.
"There's no room, and we need to work on your sister right now, and you need to get your leg checked, so please go sit down." Robby begged the teenager, "Get you and Leah checked out."
"Please come tell me how she's doing, okay? Please?" 
"I will."
 "Jake?" Langdon calls out, seeing the boy. "Is your sister with you?"
"I-I'm okay. She's with Robby."
Meanwhile, your father was in one-hundred percent doctor mode, he couldn't be a petrified father at this moment because as soon as Jack realised it was you on that bed, Robby would be pushed away and he needed to save you.
The nurses cut your clothes and lanyard off, giving them better access to your wound. Your father used a laryngoscope to place a breathing tube down your throat as Dana arrived, her steps pausing momentarily as she realised what was happening. 
"Can't feel carotid." 
"Start compressions. Swap out with me." Robby instructed someone nearby.
"I need an IO. Hang a unit of O-neg." 
Dr Mohan arrives, "Got the IO." 
"Robby…" Dana murmurs, "You can't—"
"Just-just let me try" Robby's words were rushed.
"You need help over there?" Langdon calls out, worried.
"No, we're good." 
"That's Baby Robby." Langdon tells Dr Mckay
"Oh, shit." McKay gasps
"Baby Robby as in…?" Javadi asks.
"Yeah…It's Robby's daughter."
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"1,400 of blood out the chest. First unit's in." The nurse said as she continued compressions.
"Squeeze in a second unit fast, and then we'll do another pulse check." Robby demands.
"She's needs a second line?" Dana questions Robby
"For FFP and platelets."
"You sure, Robby?" 
Everybody knows that Robby is fighting a losing battle here but Dana attempts to get through to him gently as Jack Abbot throws them a curious stare.
"Sophie, get the plasma. I'm gonna take over compressions. And swap."
"Two units packed cells in. FFP still going?" Dana pants as squeezes the bag.
"Almost there. Okay, holding compressions." Robby steps back, hands shaking as he prays the next words out of their mouths are that they have a pulse.
"Can't feel carotid." Sophie says, and Robby turns to Dana, hoping for something, anything.
"No femoral." Dana shakes her head.
 Robby takes a stuttered breath before he climbs back up to his previous position, "Resuming compressions." 
Jack finally moves to a patient nearby and swears underneath his breath when he sees who Robby is working on, his heart sinks as he realises what was happening. He hasn't known you as long as some of the others but he has known you for a solid chunk of your life. When he first arrived in Pittsburgh and initially worked on the day shift, you were the one to convince him to come to Robby's yearly barbeque, making him pinky promise about attending. You had always affectionately called him 'Uncle Jack' and frequently texted him during his night shifts when you were pulling an all-nighter studying despite his disapproval. 
"Brother…" Jack placed a hand on Robby's shoulder, "You can't be doing this-let me"
"No!" Robby frantically shook his head, not wanting to stop for even a moment.
Jack and Dana caught each other's eyes and realised that being gentle was not going to work with Robby right now.
"What's your next move, boss?" Jack returned back to his original patient.
"Platelets, another unit. And then we can transfuse her with her own blood from the Pleur-evac to get ahead." Robby tells Jack before he turns to Dana, "Hang the cell saver."
 "Squeeze all this in?" 
"No. Three-way stopcock on a 60-cc syringe. I'll push-pull."
"Okay."
"Not exactly in our mass casualty game plan."
Robby ignores Jack's words, focussing on doing compressions on your lifeless body.
"Third unit's in. Okay, pulse check." 
"I think I'm feeling a femoral." There was a glimmer of hope in Dana's voice.
"I got a carotid!" Robby's voice cracks slightly, overwhelmed with the possibility, "Emery, I got a chest case, needs to go to the OR."
"I saw you doing CPR on this girl." The surgeon says as she rounds the bed.
"Two liters out of the left chest. Got a pulse back after three packed cells. 600 out of the cell saver, 2 of FFP."
"I'm not feeling it." Emery shakes her head, unable to feel your pulse.
"Check the carotid." Robby is desperate.
"Nothing. Sorry." With that Emery walks away.
"Resume compressions."
"No, no, we should take her up. She just had a pulse." Robby chases after the surgeon.
"Not now. We need a pulse to go to the OR. Call me if anything changes."
 Robby walks back to Dana, "Do we have any more whole blood from the donors?"
"Think so." Dana nods
"Okay, get another unit that's got platelets and plasma. It'll help her clot."
 "Got it."
Jack speaks up again, "Four units. Blood is for the ones we can save."
"She is right on the edge. One more can make the difference and I have to help her. I have to."
"How much blood you pushing off the cell saver?" Dana asks.
"Every last drop." 
Dana turns to Jack as he finishes with his patient, shaking her head, she was begging him to step in now. You were dead, she knew that, Jack knew that and so were the nurses assisting them but Robby was still in denial.
"How many units so far?" Jack asks as he slides in next to Robby.
Robby takes in a deep breath before he answers, "Four, plus the cell saver."
"Last one?"
"I don't know." Robby shakes his head, his voice warbling as the tears threaten to escape, "Dana, why don't we try a little TXA? 1,000 milligrams of TXA might help her clot."
"Got it."
Jack sighs, his hand resting on Robby's arm, silently pleading him to accept what happened as he gave Robby the realistic facts, "Bullet tore through her heart. Anyone else with a wound like this is pronounced dead in the field. You can't keep up with the blood loss. If she was our only patient, we'd do a thoracotomy, maybe ECMO. But even then, I doubt we'd get her back. We're gonna lose ten other patients if you put all your efforts into saving her."
"S-she's my d-d-aughter" Robby gasped, reality slowly sinking in, "She can't leave me."
"Got the TXA."
"Okay, push it fast, and we'll do another pulse check. And then can you get me a vascular Doppler too, please?" Robby had to force the words out, tears falling from his eyes.
"Four units of packed cells, two of FFP, 1,000 of TXA... and 1,200 auto-transfused." Robby scribbled on your wrist chart that was smeared with blood but his hands were trembling so much that it was incomprehensible. 
"Did you check this?" Robby took the Doppler that Dana was holding out. 
"Not yet."
Robby squirted the gel on his wrist before putting the doppler on it, nodding when it picked up his pulse, "Okay, it's working. Hold compressions."
Robby held his breath as he held the doppler to your neck, wishing and praying so deeply that his daughter was not taken from him. He moved it around slightly, desperately for the slightest pulse that would allow you to go up to OR but only silence greeted him.
Dana watched him, blinking away the tears that had threatened to spill since you first arrived in the ED.
Robby let out a shuttered breath as he pulled back, shaking his head as he cried, "O-okay we're done here."
"We stopped at 19:47" Dana wrote your TOD on your wrist chart and Robby struggled to pull his gaze away.
 Robby wanted to lock himself away in a room where he could cry until he was empty, where he could scream until his throat was raw and collapse to the ground but the ED needed him.
"Move her to Pedes?" Robby nodded as he kept his gaze straight ahead, he could no longer look at you. 
"You want me to go with you to talk to Jake?" Dana gently offered.
 "No, no, thanks, I got it." Robby declined, "W-what about um-...her mom?"
"She's on her way but she's coming from Philadelphia, so it'll be a while."
Robby absentmindedly nodded as he wandered off into an empty bathroom, locking it behind him and there he finally crashed onto his knees, heart wrenching cries escaping him as he wept for you. He cried until he choked, his nonstop tears making it hard to breathe. 
Robby didn't want to go back out there, he didn't want to tell Jake that you had died, he didn't want to go out there to help other people when he couldn't even save you. He didn't want nurses or med students, or residents, or fellow doctors calling for his help, he just wanted you back.
A knock on the door brings him to his feet as he stumbles to unlock it and open it. Dana is on the other side, sympathy strong on her face as she looks at him.
"Jake is asking for you." Dana informs him.
Robby nods and reaches up to wipe the tears from his face but then he realised he was still wearing your blood stained gloves and gown, which he quickly ripped off, throwing it into the nearest sanitary bin, the sight of the blood making him sick.
"I'll find him, thank you Dana" Robby gives her one last nod before he disappears looking for his not-quite stepston.
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Hours had passed and the ED had returned to somewhat normality after the shooting. There was a somber weight that laid on the shoulders of everyone there from what they all witnessed and treated for but no one dared to mention the elephant in the room, which was Robby. 
Robby was blaming himself and Jack to remind him that even if they had the entire trauma team working with you, with an injury like yours, chances of survival were low. 
The doctor had disappeared to the viewing room after Janie picked up Jake and Leah to take them home, the woman breaking into tears after being told what had happened. Jack had also sent the morning shift home, reminding them they've been there all day.
Hurried footsteps into the ED had caught Jack's attention from where he was finishing up files to the entrance where your mother rushed in, panic clear on her face.
"Jack!" Your mother cried as he rushed towards him and he met her half way, supporting her body as it crashed into him.
"W-where are they? I can't get in contact with either of them!"
Jack harshly swallows before he takes her arm in a supportive grip, guiding her towards the elevators, "C'mon I'll take you to them."
"Is she in the ICU or the OR?" Your mother asks as they step into the elevator, "That's probably why I couldn't get ahold of her right? And ha- knowing Robby, he's probably right by her side,"
Jack stays silent as the elevator rises past the ICU and surgery floors, bringing a hand up to his mouth when your mother realised what floor they were going to. Your mother had spent as much time as you did in this hospital, it was the usual drop-off place where you'd go from one parent to the other and she was well aware of what departments were on what floors.
Your mother paused as she stepped out of the elevator, the viewing room, right around the corner and her voice was a mere whisper as she spoke to Jack, "How bad was it?"
Jack hesitated before he spoke knowing he shouldn't be telling her any of it, "...She was gone before she got here…no matter what, the chances weren't in her favour."
"...And Robby?"
"He tried so hard. He refused to give up."
Your mother mutely nodded before she slowly made her way to the viewing room where Robby still waited outside.
"Robby?" Your mother whispered but it rang loudly through the corridor and Robby shot to his feet, making his way over to her. 
Your parents fall into each other's arms, crying as they mourn their daughter.
Jack sends them a pitiful glance before he leaves them alone, returning to the ED.
"I'm sorry—Oh fuck, I'm so sorry" Robby sobbed, "I tried so hard. I did, you have to believe me, please-please"
Your mother could only sob, curling around Robby as she sought for something to ground her.
They cried until there were no tears left and Robby helped her up, guiding her towards the chairs but your mom stopped just outside of the door.
"Can-can we see her?" She hesitantly asked.
Robby silently nodded, taking your moms hand before they opened the door and stepped in. Your mothers hand trembles in Robby's hand as he gently reaches over to pull the sheet away from your face.
Your mother shudders, briefly looking away to press her face to Robby's shoulder to center herself, she pulls away to rummage through her purse before she pulls out a travel pack of wet wipes.
"Can I?" 
Robby nods, reaching to take a wipe she offers him and together they begin to wipe your face clean of the blood that had matted onto your face and hairline. Your mother murmured words of love, pressing kisses on your face as she cleaned it and Robby watched as she did so but he couldn't do the same, the guilt festered in him.
First, it was guilt of not saving you. For taking the shift and not being by your side when the shooting happened.
Then it was for not accepting you had passed earlier. Deep in denial, he pushed and pushed until he had cracked your ribs, putting your body through more trauma just for his benefit.
"I'm sorry," Robby whimpered, "I should have been there with her. I could have helped her…it should have been me."
"What would you have done, hm?" Your mother asked, "You have no idea who the shooter was or where he was coming from and with what medical supplies? You saved many lives today…be proud of that."
"But not the most important person of them all" Robby gasped.
"Jack told me the probability of everything," Your mother pulls Robby into a hug, "Our baby girl was just unlucky. There was nothing that you or Jack or anyone could have done."
"I'm sorry…" Robby sobbed.
"I know," Your mother squeezed Robby, "I am too."
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