#loved loved the ending and love everyone!!!!!!!!!

[ciderjacks]

I like that Chilchuck says that he only stayed on to help with Falin bc he was paid upfront so couldn’t quit when he wanted to, but later admits to the orc teen that he could’ve quit, and didn’t because he was too stubborn to let her go. And the reason he regretted it was because he felt like by having that hope he ended up putting his friends in danger. And then also out of everyone in the party he was the one who ended up breaking down in tears because he wasn’t able to handle watching his friends risk their lives. That man cares more than anyone he just can’t drop his hatersona. Life is agony for repressed middle aged people who love deeply.

[gumified]

FREAK IN THE SHEETS !

pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader

summary: who knew the younger quiet and shy colleague you had a crush on was such a freak in the sheets.

content: 7.8k, office au, fluff, smut, big dick!choso, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, breast play, creampie, dumbification, choking, dacryphilia, cunnilingus (fem. + male. receiving), fingering, squirting, reader does pass out in the end, choso likes to embarrass you

note: this, i fear, is absolute gold and i just absolutely ADORE this, please show this lots of love, i beg <333 this has not been proof read so very sorry if there's typos!

It’s the same onslaught of work every single day. Sorting papers, filing documents, arranging meetings. There’s nothing new in your normal 9 to 5 day. You never thought that all your years of education would lead you to a boring office job stuck slaving away but here you are. Despite all the tiring work you had to face paired with overnight stays at the office, you still made sure to put all your effort into it, after all that really was the only way to climb the corporate ladder. 

So when Choso Kamo was newly employed you didn’t think the newly graduated university student would last more than two weeks. He was all cute and meek smiles, innocent eyes that watched everyone in the office as they worked. His voice had been quiet, barely above a whisper when he had introduced himself. You had seen the way he fiddled with his sleeve as if he was too nervous to look up at everyone in the room.

Yet as the weeks passed, Choso stayed. He wasn’t the best worker but he did enough to stop the nagging of the higher ups. He wasn’t hard working per se but he wasn’t lazy. He was just…mediocre. 

“Y/n where do you want these documents again?” Choso’s soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you look up at the man. His hair fell into his eyes, a habit that you had noticed. “I’ve finished printing them out, do you want me to sort them for you?”

You offer him a smile. “That’d be great Choso, thank you so much.” You don’t fail to notice how his cheeks dust in a light pink and he hurriedly stutters out an okay before rushing away. 

“The kid’s whipped for you.” Satoru scoffs from beside you and your head whips around to see his face looking over your cubicle wall. His fingers are splayed across the surface, eyeing Choso across the room. “He definitely wants to fuck you.”

“Fuck off ‘toru, not everyone’s like you.” You roll your eyes as you push him back to his desk. “And he definitely does not want to fuck me.”

Your friend snorts as he sits down, leaning back against his chair. “Tell that to those lovesick eyes he constantly gives you, not to mention how he’s only ever helping you out. It’s like he’s your personal assistant.”

Your face heats up. It was true that Choso liked to help you with your work, he would often offer to finish any paperwork you had left and he would always get you your morning coffee. He was helpful, yes of course, but it wasn’t like you didn’t help him back. 

“I can see those gears turning in your head.” Satoru sits up, shoving his face close to yours and you jolt away. “Why? Thinking about a certain someone?” There’s a shit-eating grin on his face and you want nothing more than to slap it off of him.

“Choso’s a sweet kid, just leave him alone Satoru.” You glare at your friend. “Plus he’s younger than me-”

“Yeah by like 3 years Y/n.” Satoru laughs as he sweeps his hair out of his eyes. “And you’re both adults, there’s no shame in dating someone younger than you.”

Once again your body erupts into flames, caught off guard by his bluntness. “Yeah well I know that, it’s just, well I mean.” You pause thinking how you were going to say the next words. There were so many words you could’ve used to describe Choso Kamo, he was kind, caring, and intelligent. “Well ‘toru he just looks so innocent and, you know, pure. I don’t think he’s very experienced in…sexual encounters.”

Satoru guffaws very loudly and you’re immediately on edge, looking around to make sure no one heard the sound that just escaped his lips. 

“You know you can just say you think he’s a virgin Y/n.”

“Well I don’t want to assume-”

“You just did.”

“Shut up Satoru.” 

You groan at his teasing, burying your head in your hands. It’s true that Choso’s only three years younger than you and that definitely isn’t a problem just as Satoru had said. But he was also the same Choso who would stutter when giving you your coffee and would trip over his own feet. Sure, he was really really pretty and you can’t deny that he definitely was attractive.

There’s no problem with being a virgin and you’d never judge someone for being one. It’s just that, well, you were into some kinky shit, not that anyone needed to know. You often found that your previous partners couldn’t exactly satisfy you the way you wanted and it often left you faking orgasms just to get out of the situation. No one really fucked you like you wanted and Choso, who was just so gorgeous, didn’t exactly exude the dominant partner you were after that didn’t stop your heart from pounding whenever you saw him though. 

“When you guys fuck you owe me a drink.” Satoru whispers in your ear and you lift your head, throwing him an annoyed glance.

“We aren’t going to fuck.”

“Sure Y/n sure.”

As the hours continue to drag on you find yourself growing more and more tired. The screen in front of you jumbles in a pixelated mess and you force yourself to redirect your focus to your work. It’s hard to do with Satoru’s constant distractions and your mind tumbling through your own thoughts. It’s not a particularly busy work day and you sort through the same paperwork and do the same jobs you’ve been taught to do for so many years. 

Some reason your mind keeps drifting back to what Satoru had said and then it would drift to Choso. When you had first met him he had seemed nice enough. He would always smile shyly whenever the both of you locked eyes, offering you a small wave to say hello. You knew that Satoru was right, Choso did like you and you would never tell Satoru but you did like Choso back. It’s that thought that plagues your mind for the rest of the day.

Choso returns to your desk a little later with the documents neatly sorted and organised. He hesitates for a moment, and you notice how he glances around, probably ensuring no one else is watching.

"Um, Y/n." He begins softly. "I was wondering if you needed any help with the meeting preparations for tomorrow?"

You look up at him, surprised by his words. "Oh, thank you, Choso. That would be really helpful." 

His eyes light up at your response, and he nods eagerly, moving to your side to assist. As you both work side by side, you can't help but notice the small, almost imperceptible ways he steals glances at you. It’s endearing and slightly amusing, but you brush it off, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. The meeting preparations take up most of the afternoon, and by the time you’re finished, the office is nearly empty and the sun’s already setting.

"Thanks again, Choso." You say, gathering your things. "You didn’t have to stay this late to help me."

He blushes slightly, looking down at his feet. "It’s no problem, really. I’m happy to help."

You lead the way to the elevator, Choso trailing along behind you. The ride down is silent but certainly not uncomfortable and the question that has been in your head for so long continues to repeat itself over and over again. You sneak a peek at the man beside you and you see the way he’s watching his phone, scrolling through what you assume are messages. Your eyes fixate on his hands. The long fingers that touch the screen, veins travelling up his arms. You find yourself imagining different scenarios that his hands could be in - intertwined with yours, tangled in your hair, stuffed in your-

You shake yourself free from the lewd thoughts, feeling your own cheeks burn at the mere implication. You gulp, feeling your heart racing. This is Choso Kamo, your junior, your colleague. This was the guy who probably has a massive crush on you and here you are, ogling at his hands.

There’s a soft ding as the elevator reaches the ground floor and you straighten yourself up, ready to leave and hop into a very cold shower. You watch as the doors slowly open and Choso lets you get out first, following closely behind you. He looks at you for a second and you wonder if he knows you’ve just been daydreaming about his hands in very inappropriate scenarios. 

"Y/n, I…I wanted to ask you something." His voice is steady but tinged with nervousness. "Would you like to grab a coffee sometime? Outside of work, I mean."

Satoru’s smug grin flashes in your mind and you brush his words out of your head. Hanging out with Choso isn’t something bad or taboo. Plus it didn’t have to be a date, it’s simply two colleagues hanging out. You feel your own heart betray you when it flutters at the thought of being alone with Choso. 

"Sure, Choso. I’d like that." You offer him a soft smile and you immediately notice the way his eyes light up. You can see the tension ease in his shoulders and the relief that washes over him. It’s cute.

"Great! I’ll, um, I’ll text you the details?" He hands you his phone to put your number in and you do. He grins when he gets it back, smiling at the screen adorably. 

“Bye Choso, text me and I’ll let you know when I’m free.” You wave him goodbye before leaving to get back to your home. 

That night as you lie in your bed you force yourself to close your eyes to sleep but it proves to be impossible. You stay up thinking about him, Choso. He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend and he definitely likes you. There was no harm in going on a date with him. You continue to toss and turn, groaning as you slam your face into your pillow. You know you have to get some sleep otherwise you’d be too tired to go to work the next day. So you will the thoughts to go away, focusing on your breathing until, slowly but surely, you drift off to sleep.

The week goes by quickly, passing in a blur of meetings, deadlines, and the usual office chaos. You notice that Choso’s more of a bumbling mess around you than usual and you can only think that it’s because of your upcoming date that he’s so nervous. At the coffee machine one morning, you catch him staring at you, his eyes wide with a mixture of admiration and anxiety. When you smile at him, he nearly drops his coffee cup, fumbling with it in a way that makes you chuckle softly.

Satoru notices too, not failing to constantly question you about it and you deny everything. There’s no need for him to know your personal business after all.

The weekend comes quicker than expected and now here you are, waiting patiently for Choso to turn up. He had asked you to meet him just outside the station, stating his apartment wasn’t far from it, and you guessed you were a little early considering how he hadn’t shown up yet. You check your phone, noting that you’re still a few minutes ahead of the agreed time.

You can’t seem to stop your pounding heart as it races uncontrollably and you force yourself to calm down. There’s millions of butterflies in your stomach, fluttering about and crashing into every single organ. It’s been a long time since you felt this nervous for a date. 

Just as you’re about to check your phone again, you spot him. His hands in his pockets as he looks around like a lost puppy before breaking into a grin when he sees you. Your brain short circuits when you see what he’s wearing. You had gotten used to the smart clothes and suits he would wear in the office and seeing him in baggy jeans and a graphic tee has your mind spinning. You never thought you would find someone so attractive in casual clothes until now.

“Hi Y/n, sorry am I late? I hope you haven’t been waiting for long.” His voice is still the same soft shy tone and you realise it’s a stark contrast to the dark clothes he wears. “Did you get here okay?”

“Yeah I did.” You smile. “Don’t worry I haven’t been waiting for long, should we get going?”

He nods eagerly and your heart jumps at the gesture. You fall into step beside him as he leads the way, the conversation flowing surprisingly easily. It’s not hard to talk to Choso and you find yourself growing more and more comfortable around him. There are times you catch yourself staring at the way the corners of his lips turn up and how his eyes seem to twinkle. Whenever you talk his eyes are always trained on you, listening attentively to every word you say.

Eventually, you arrive at a charming little café that Choso had mentioned earlier. It’s cosy and inviting, with warm lighting and a comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. You both find a table by the window, giving you a perfect view of the street outside.

As you settle into your seats, Choso looks at you with a smile. "I hope you like this place. I thought it had a nice atmosphere."

"I love it.” You reply genuinely touched at his thought in his choice of location. 

You order your drinks and some pastries to share, and the conversation continues to flow effortlessly. He shares stories of his days in university and the both of you laugh at shared experiences at the office. You didn’t think you would have as much fun as you were having and you certainly didn’t expect to fall for him even harder. You catch yourself admiring the way he speaks, the way his hands move as he gestures, and the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he loves.

Choso has always been attractive but as the day progresses you see him in a new light, one that has your heart fluttering and your cheeks heating up whenever he looks at you with those dreamy eyes.

At one point, he leans forward slightly, his expression earnest. "Y/n, I really enjoy spending time with you. You’re so easy to talk to, and I feel like I can be myself around you."

Your heart swells at his words, and you smile warmly. "I feel the same way, Choso. I’m really glad we’re doing this."

The day carries on like normal and though it only consists of the two of you talking it still makes heat rush to your cheeks and your heart pound. The feelings inside of you aren’t deniable and you definitely know that after this you weren’t going to be able to resist going on another date with Choso. 

A light drizzle starts to fall, quickly turning into a heavier rain and you kick yourself for not checking the weather earlier. The both of you look at each other for a second before laughing at the sudden change in weather.

"We should get out of this rain." He says, voice loud enough to be heard over the sound of the raindrops. "My apartment isn’t far from here. Would you like to come over until the rain stops?"

You hesitate for a moment, but the thought of spending more time with him is too tempting to resist. "I'd love to."

He leads the way, and the two of you hurry through the rain. He makes sure that you’re okay every few minutes and you reassure him every time with a smile. By the time you reach his apartment, you're both soaked. Choso fumbles with his keys for a moment before unlocking the door and ushering you inside. His apartment is warm, a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere outside. 

Choso quickly grabs a couple of towels from a nearby closet. "Here, dry off." 

“Thanks.” You take the towel he gives you, wrapping yourself with it so you can feel some heat.

“You can sit down. I’ll go make us something to drink.” He smiles at you as he gestures to the couch.

You nod, taking a seat and watching as he moves around the small kitchen. There’s something incredibly endearing about seeing him in his own space, relaxed and at ease. When he returns with two steaming mugs, he sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. You take a sip of the drink, letting the warmth spread over your tongue. The two of you continue to talk and seconds turn into minutes turn into hours. When you finally look at the clock on the opposite wall it reads well into the evening. 

Choso locks his eyes with yours and they flicker to your lips for a second before they’re on your eyes again. He leans in closer and you hold your breath, the tension tangible in the air. The room seems to hold its breath as he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "Can I kiss you?" He asks softly, his eyes searching yours for permission.

“Yes.” You whisper back as you try to steady your beating heart. “Please.”

He leans in slowly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is tender and sweet. You can feel the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips. It’s gentle and slow and you smile at the shyness of it all. The both of you eventually pull away and he watches as you try to catch your breath. 

“Stay for longer?” Choso’s words are innocent to you but you miss the flicker of desire that passes quickly in his eyes. You nod, heart pounding in your ears.

His lips crash onto yours once more, this time much more powerful and dominant. His hands circle around your waist, pulling you close to his body and you feel your own body heat up at his touch. You let out a yelp when you feel his tongue enter your mouth, tangling with yours and there’s a mixture of salvia as he continues to kiss you vigorously. You’re confused where this is coming from and you force yourself to break away. 

“What is going o-on...” You stutter out, mind reeling from the passionate kiss you just shared. 

There’s a string of saliva at the corner of Choso’s mouth and he smirks, lifting his thumb as he wipes it away. His eyes darken as he pulls you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You feel his hot breath against your neck and you try your best to stop your knees from buckling at the sensation.

“You’re so pretty you know that?” Choso’s voice is deep and it’s different to the shy tone he so normally speaks with. “You’re always so nice to me, always letting me help you, always such a good girl.”

His words aren’t anything too lewd but it has wetness pooling in between your legs. You look up, eyes locking with his and you see something you haven’t ever seen. The usually meek and timid Choso you’re so used to seeing wasn’t there anymore. Instead you see a man oozing with dominance, towering over you and you resist the whimper that begs to escape your lips.

“I want to fuck you so bad Y/n, been trying so hard not to bend you over your desk and fuck you silly in front of everyone.” He whines and for a moment you see the shy man you’re used to but the devilish grin returns on his face and you can’t deny that you love it. “Can I fuck you Y/n?”

The mere idea is so enticing. You know you shouldn’t but Choso’s so addicting. You can still feel the ghost of his lips moving frantically against yours. He leans closer to you, pressing his body to yours and you gasp when you feel the outline of his cock. It’s big, too big even. You look up at him, eyes glossy and hazy. 

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes please fuck me Choso-”

Your words are cut short when he kisses you again. His hands are everywhere and they find a place on your tits. He gropes your body, hands climbing under your shirt to fondle with your soft skin. He moans into your mouth, tongue invading your own mouth. You try your hardest to keep up but you easily fall behind. His movements are swift and powerful, mouth moving against yours feverishly. 

Choso cups your face with his hand. He pulls away for a second and you pant, breathless. His thumb replaces where his tongue had just been and you see the silent command in his eyes and you suck. He groans at the sight and you feel your panties grow even wetter at the beautiful man. You let your tongue circle around his thumb, sucking harshly as you look up at him with lustful eyes.

“I heard you the other day.” Choso has a smirk on his face and you struggle to remember what he’s referencing. “Thought I was a virgin did you?”

Your eyes widen as you recall the conversation you had with Satoru. You swear no one was close enough to hear what the both of you were talking about but clearly you weren’t careful enough. Embarrassment fills your body and you immediately pull his hand out of your mouth, getting ready to apologise. 

“Nu uh.” Choso pouts mockingly, shoving his fingers into your mouth. “No use apologising now Y/n, you already hurt my feelings.” You feel a bit of your soul die at his words and you can’t help but feel bad at what you were gossiping about. “Don’t worry though, lucky for you, I’m definitely not a virgin.”

His voice is a deep seductive drawl and you can’t say anything, not when his digits were in your mouth. Despite the situation you find your body heating up at what’s to come. This is a side you never thought you would see from your colleague but you aren’t complaining. Choso moans when he sees his saliva coated fingers when he removes them from your mouth. Your mind is already foggy with lust and you continue to pant.

“I’m gonna let you off this once okay Y/n? But you’re gonna have to make it up to me.” His eyes are fixed on yours and you melt under his touch. All you can do is nod, words failing you. He smirks, hands caressing your cheek gently and it’s a contrast to the dirty words that leave his mouth next. “Good, now get on your knees and suck slut.”

You don’t need to be told twice as you drop to the floor, legs sprawled out on the floor as you open your mouth. Choso laughs at your desperate figure, tangling his hands in your hair and he pulls your head back. You moan at the painful feeling as he pulls on your roots. His bottom lip is in between his teeth as he watches you submit so willingly. He pulls out his cock and you almost drool at the sight. It’s so pretty just like Choso. It’s got length as well as girth but your eyes are fixated on the fat mushroom head he has. You didn’t think you would ever be staring at Choso Kamo’s cock yet here you are.

Choso chuckles at your reaction and he brings his cock to your face and you feel its warmth and it shoots desire straight to your pussy. The tip is a flustered pink and you moan at the sight. You open your mouth, letting your tongue glide across his length. You savour the taste of his pre cum. He stares down at you and you see the way his own lust clouds his eyes. 

“Fucking filthy aren’t you?” Choso grins and though it’s a smile you’re used to seeing now you know there’s an underlying meaning to it. He pulls your head back and he forces your jaw to open wider as he slams his cock into your mouth. You scream at the sudden action and your throat constricts around him, causing Choso to let out a low growl. “Go on. Show me how sorry you are.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you bob your head up and down. Choso watches as you stuff your face full with his cock. You look so pretty and he tilts your head up to look at him, watch as you suck him off. You’re a slobbering mess on his cock, eyes half-lidded as you continue to take him down your warm throat. Choso lets out a choked moan when he feels your tongue swipe over his tip, swirling around the sensitive area. 

“F-Fuck Y/n.” He stutters out breathlessly and you feel your heart pound at the reaction you manage to elicit from him. You repeat the gesture that has him seeing stars and he grips your head. “Nasty fucking mouth you have there.”

His dirty talk fills your ears and all you can do is moan helplessly. Choso thrusts his cock and you gag as it hits the back of your throat. The delicious noises invade your senses and you drool over his cock like a bitch in heat. Your eyes are glossy as tears gather and you blink, letting them fall freely down your face. You mewl as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. The sound has Choso moaning in approval.

He doesn’t let you rest and before you know it he’s abusing your tight little throat, fucking his cock in and out of you harshly. All you can do is kneel, mouth hanging open as you let him use you. You become a mess, saliva dripping from your lips as you look up with lustful eyes. There’s something so seductive about the man above you, the man who you thought was a shy timid virgin. How wrong you were.

“C-Chosoo!” You make a muffled noise around his cock, panties already soaking. You’re sopping wet and you want nothing more than to get fucked dumb by him. Your hands move down slowly, ghosting over your pussy. You know that you shouldn’t but you can’t help but press against your clit. You rub cricles as your throat gets fucked viciously. 

But before you can continue your own pleasure Choso’s tugging your head back once more and you see the angry glare he sends you. “Touching yourself really? Guess you aren’t that sorry are you?” He snarls and you whimper. Above you he seems so scary and mean but it only turns you on even more. 

He doesn’t warn you as he cums. His cock throbs in your mouth and your eyes can only widen as he spurts hot thick cum down your throat. It’s sticky and you feel it spread across your tongue and you savour the sweet taste. Choso groans at the sight as he dumps his load into your mouth. You look so perfect, saliva and cum trickling out of your mouth, eyes so drowsy and fucked out. You swallow every drop he gives you eagerly and when he pulls out your mouth is still hanging open as if you were asking for more.

“Good for nothing slut.” Choso grabs your body, forcing you to stand up as he kisses you. His tongue pushes against yours and he sucks, tasting himself. You collapse limply against his body, hands gripping his shoulders. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten, you’re gonna have to prove yourself even more now since you decided to touch yourself. Fucking whore, that’s what you are, a whore, say it.”

“I’m a-a whore, I’m a filthy whore.” You repeat back the words he throws at you and Choso smiles. His lips brush against yours and you stare into his pretty eyes. “Please.” You beg. “Please Choso wan’ you to fuck me, n-need you so baddd.”

You see the way a cocky smirk spreads across his face and you know he likes the words you say. He’s leaning in towards you, licking along your collarbone and up the vast expanse of your neck. You gasp at the feeling of his tongue and his lips as he nips at your skin. He sucks harshly, leaving red marks along your flesh. Choso’s arms grab your thighs and you squeal as he lifts you up. His muscles bulge and you watch as he picks you up with ease, lips still attached to your neck. You grip onto his shoulders as he carries you to the bed before throwing you down. 

You squirm under his gaze and you watch as his eyes trail carefully over every little detail of your body. His hands land on your stomach, warmth seeping through your skin and he drags it up further and further until he reaches your neck. You see something dark snap within him and Choso squeezes around your throat cooing as you let out a strangled moan.

“Remember when we were in that elevator together angel?” You faintly hear his voice as you succumb to the pleasure. “Thought you were being so careful but you were staring at my hands weren’t you, imagining dirty things.”

You whimper at his accusation, glossy eyes looking back at him. You mutter out a breathy apology but Choso smiles wickedly as he leans forward, whispering right by your ear. “No need to apologise baby, my hands are all yours.”

There’s a distinct sound of fabric ripping and you gasp when you feel the cold air hit your pussy. Choso’s hand is still around your throat and you feel the pleasure shooting up to your head. His fingers press against your sopping core, circling your puffy clit slowly. He slides through your wet folds and the feeling has you choking back a sob. You know he’s being a tease and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

“C-Choso, hnghh, please please. Stop t-teasing.” You beg, tears streaming down your face as he pinches your sensitive clit. You feel his fingers edge closer to your hole, narrowly missing the spot you know will have pleasure coursing through your veins. “Wan’ you so bad, need you please please please!”

“Fuck you’re so cute.” Choso’s grip on your throat tightens. He finally slips in two fingers and you throw your head back, letting out the moan you've been holding back. “You’re so so cute, wanna fuck you stupid.”

You writhe under his grip, body convulsing as he thrusts his digits in and out of you. You’re already embarrassingly close and you can’t hold back as you scream his name over and over again like a mind-numbing chant. Choso curls his fingers and he groans when he feels your velvety walls squeeze around him. You whine as he hits the spot you’ve been waiting for, your toes curling at the pleasure that wracks through your body.

“Found it.” Choso murmurs against your skin, hot breathing burning you. His cocky smirk never leaves his face as he continues to abuse your little cunt, hitting the same spot over and over again. “Cum f’me baby, show me how much of a desperate whore you are, c’mon.”

It’s completely humiliating how quickly you release all over his fingers just at his words. He releases his grip on your neck and you heave in a breath. Your pussy spasms around his fingers and Choso grins as he watches liquid squirt from your pussy. He never stops thrusting in and out of you, enjoying the wet noises that mingle with the onslaught of moans that fall from your lips.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Choso t-too much, ‘s too much nghh.” 

“Baby fuckkk, you’re gorgeous.” Choso pulls his fingers out of your pussy, watching as you lie limply, sprawled out on the bed, trying your hardest to catch your breath. He cups your pussy with his hand feeling the way it throbs. “This cutie’s so loud f’me, who knew you had such a dirty side to you hm Y/n?”

You can’t respond, too fucked out from your orgasm to even formulate a sentence. The Choso Kamo in front of you wasn’t the one you had spent the last couple of months seeing in the office. The Choso Kamo in front of you was an insatiable beast. You blink wearily and you finally manage to focus your eyes. Choso drops a kiss on your nose, hands stroking your body gently. 

“My Y/n’s so cute, so so cute.” He mumbles and you feel your heart race at his words. His body presses up against you and you freeze when you feel his hard cock graze your pussy. Choso notices immediately and he locks his eyes with yours and you see the mischief that lies there. “You didn’t think I was done with you did you? Oh you really are adorable.”

You open your mouth to scream but nothing comes out as he shoves his fat cock into your pussy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel your gummy walls take him in. He’s not slow and he’s definitely not gentle. Each thrust is harsh and unforgiving. Choso fucks into you hard and you grip the sheets tightly, sobbing at the overstimulation. 

“More, p-please more, need you s-so bad, please c-choso.” 

“More?” He grunts at your pathetic pleas. “Such a greedy whore aren’t you? If you want it so bad, take it.” 

Another scream is ripped from your throat as he increases his pace, rigorously pounding into your spent pussy. He moulds you to fit his cock, fucks you open as you cry and sob. Choso loves the sound of you begging, he loves the sound of your dripping cunt as he slams his hips against yours over and over again. He groans as he captures your lips in a kiss, sucking on your tongue as he swallows each and every one of your delicious moans. 

Your hands reach above you, pulling Choso closer to your body and your sharp nails rake his back. You claw at him like some animal in heat and you dig your nails into his skin as he fucks you. Choso hisses at the pain but it only turns him on more. He smirks at your fucked-out state, loving the way your mouth is open, tongue lolling out. He loves the tears that fall from your eyes and he leans forward to kiss them from your face.

“You feel so, hah, feel so good.” Choso pants, cock ploughing into you feverishly. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you for? Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to split you open on my, hnghh, cock - fuckk!” 

You whimper at his words, your own unable to leave your lips as you continue to moan. Choso lifts your leg, placing it above his shoulder as he snaps his hips to yours. You try to find anything to hold onto as you feel your pussy constrict tightly around his throbbing cock. 

“Ch-Chosooo!” You whine as he stretches you open. Every single slight movement is keening with pleasure and you feel your toes curl as you pant for air. “I-I…Choso ‘m gonna cum!”

The words leave your mouth for a second and everything comes tumbling down as the knot in your stomach explodes and you convulse around his cock. Choso chants your name, urging you to release all over him, to make a mess around his cock as he fucks you. You sob pathetically, pussy gushing as you feel the sheet beneath you grow even wetter. 

Choso doesn’t stop his harsh movements and not even a second after you cum you feel another orgasm build up within you and you squeal as it comes crashing down again. You’re a babbling mess at this point, crying desperately for him to slow down as you’re fucked absolutely stupid on his cock. He flips you around so that you’re on top and you nearly collapse if it isn’t for the tight grip he has on your hips.

Choso’s smirking at you, eyes dazed as he watches you squeeze around him. “You’ve been dying for my cock haven’t you? Look at how pretty we look together?” He gestures to your pussy and you feel your cheeks flare with heat at the erotic sight. “C’mon angel, fuck yourself on my cock f’me.”

You’re taken aback by his words and you feel the heat crawling through your cheeks once more. It’s humiliating the way he makes you bounce on his cock as he watches. His eyes are trained to your pussy as it takes his length, inch by inch. You’re embarrassed beyond belief as you press your hands against his hard muscle, pushing yourself up and down him. Choso only eyes you cockily, loving the way you’ve suddenly turned shy.

“Nghh, h-hah hah, ah!” You squeal as you feel his hands cup the back of your thigh right below your ass. He reaches his other hand to grope your tits, playing with the nipple in between his fingers, pinching and twirling the sensitive bud with practised ease. 

“Woah angel, you’re clinging onto me so tightly.” His words are laced with smugness and you lift your head to see his heart-shaped pupils watching you. He’s admiring every inch of your skin as you fuck yourself on him desperately. “You can do s’much better than this Y/n, c’mon baby, work that ass for me, hm?”

You try your best to bounce on him but your legs are so tired and you’re running out of breath quicker than ever. Your pussy is beyond aching and yet you still feel the desire to be fucked stupid in your body. “C-Can’t- Choso, hnngh, can’t really can’t!” 

“Hmm, you get tired too easily Y/n.” Choso sighs as he settles both his hands on your hips. 

You gasp when he sinks you down onto him. “You’re s-so…so mean-”

“What’s mean is you being so fucking cute and not letting me fuck you in the office.” 

He slams you back down again and this time you throw your head back, screaming with pleasure. His grip is tight and hard and he splits you open perfectly on his cock over and over again until you’re moaning like it’s the only thing you can do. You sob for him to slow down and both of you know that’s truly the last thing you want.

“Slow down?” Choso sits up and you feel him reach deeper inside of you. His fingers play with your clit and you mewl. “Nahhh ‘m not gonna do that baby.”

It’s too quick to process and he’s already got you pressed down into the mattress, ass in the air. His touch is sure to leave bruises as he squeezes your soft skin, loving the way it ripples as he plunges in and out of you. You’re sobbing into the sheets now, pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper. All you can do is let out strangled moans and hiccups as you find every rational thought leaving your head. 

“I love you so much Y/n.” Choso moans as he fucks your harder, his chest pressed agasint your back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It’s addicting. The words that leave his mouth are like poison, tainting you and you only accept them gratefully. You feel your heart flutter at his confession despite his unrelenting fucking. You attempt to turn around and Choso grabs your face to face him, kissing you passionately. 

“I love you so much Y/n, you’re mine, understand?” 

You look at him with foggy eyes, saliva dripping from your chin. “Mhmm! I love you so much t-too Choso, so much hnggh!”

Your words only make him pound into you faster. He’s a feral beast and it’s almost like his cock grows bigger inside you and you feel him throb painfully. He’s so so big and you scream into the mattress unable to do anything else. Your body’s so tired yet Choso picks you up as he grabs your throat, hips slapping against your ass repeatedly. 

“Gonna cum into this slutty pussy yeah? You’re gonna be my nasty cumslut, all mine to use.” You sob out in agreement, pussy convulsing around his cock as you cum again. Choso moans in your ear as you squeeze around him. Thick gooey ropes of cum shoot into your cunt and you feel yourself get filled right to the brim. “G-God Y/n, you’re mine, mine mine mine!”

It’s an overwhelming chant as he keeps his cock inside you, spurting hot cum. You gasp at the warm feeling as you feel him cum inside you. It’s sticky and a mess when he pulls out and you’re left lying on the bed, slumped and exhausted, pussy clenching around nothing. Choso bends down to attach his mouth onto your cunt and you squirm, hands gripping his black locks as you try to push him away as he overstimulates your clit.

“W-Wait n-no hnghh!”

Choso only coos at your cuteness, as he flattens his tongue on your folds before licking you clean. “Don’t worry angel, just making sure everything’s inside you.” It’s dirty and downright embarrassing but you whimper at the lewd sight. 

You find yourself panting for more air and your lungs feel as though they’re burning. Your vision starts to blur and Choso’s calls for your name seem more and more distant as inky black dots come into your sight. Before you know it you’re out like a light.

Choso panics when he sees your unconscious body, fearing that he’s taking it too far but he sees the way you’re comfortable breathing and he makes a mental note to apologise to you in the morning. He picks your body up with ease, guiding the both of you to the bathroom as he turns on the water, making sure you’re all clean before drying you off and tucking you into bed. After a few minutes he joins you, cuddling your body close to his, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

The faint rays of sunshine is what wakes you up in the morning and you blink, trying to adjust to the light shining into the room. You feel arms around your waist and you look to see Choso holding onto you tightly. He’s still asleep but you can’t help but admire his features. His hair is tousled, falling softly over his forehead, giving him an endearing, boyish charm. His long lashes rest gently against his cheeks and you’re jealous of the beauty he holds. 

You notice the small smile at his lips and it only makes you smile wider. His breathing is slow and steady, each rise and fall of his chest a comforting rhythm against your side. You can't help but reach out and gently brush a strand of hair away from his face. The touch is light enough not to wake him, but it allows you to see more of his peaceful expression. Your heart flutters in your chest. 

Your body still feels sore but you notice you’re in a simple t-shirt that you assume is Choso’s. It warms your heart to know he looked after you after you passed out on him. Choso nuzzles closer towards you and you feel your heart swell at the sight and you find yourself liking him even more than you already did. 

“You’re awake.” He mumbles and his voice is groggy. He blinks for a second and you smile at how he looks so cute, bed head and all. His eyes lock with yours and a second goes by before his whole face erupts into heat and he’s blushing, holding the duvet up to cover his face. “I-I’m so sorry Y/n, I took it too far last night and you passed out, I’m so so sorry.”

There’s silence for a minute and Choso definitely thinks you're mad at him, that is before you burst into giggles. He thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“It’s okay Choso, I really enjoyed it.” You say between giggles, raising your hand to brush through his hair and Choso leans into your touch, happy you weren’t angry with him. “But you really have two sides don’t you? What happened to the guy who fucked me dumb last night huh?”

Choso once again turns bright red and he pulls your body close to his, burying his face into your neck. “It’s all your fault, I get really nervous around you.”

His statement only makes you giggle even louder and when you lift his face you see a pout on his lips and you can’t help but think he’s so cute. You give him a small kiss watching as he melts in your grasp. The both of you cuddle for what seems like hours.

“I really do mean it Y/n, you know, that I love you.” The words catch you off guard and Choso notices your surprised expression and he tugs you closer to him. “It’s okay you don’t have to say it back so soon, I’m happy as long as you like me.”

You hear his rapid heartbeat and you smile to yourself. “In that case, I really really like you Choso Kamo.” 

Choso grins, face tinted with a blush as he buries his face into your hair as he hugs you tighter. “I really really like you too Y/n L/n.”

The next day when you go in for work everything’s normal but every once in a while both you and your new boyfriend would steal subtle glances at each other before looking away, cheeks flared with heat. You had both agreed not to mention it to anyone for the time being and you assumed that your colleagues wouldn’t have noticed the change in relationship you had with Choso. 

"I'll have a triple-shot caramel macchiato with extra foam, a dash of cinnamon, two pumps of vanilla, and a drizzle of honey." Satoru’s grin is mocking and you want to punch him more than usual. "Oh, and make sure it’s stirred counterclockwise."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to brush off the topic but you know your friend is way too observant for his own good. “Just get back to work Satoru.”

“Whatever you say boss.” He winks at you before sauntering off.

You glance over at Choso, who looks up just in time to catch your eye. He smiles softly, and you return the gesture, feeling your heart flutter. Forget stupid Satoru Gojo, all you needed was your adorable boyfriend to brighten your day and everything seemed ten times better.

[lustspren]

D.A | The Way You Look Tonight ft Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae.

length: 19.2k words (short update btw) ✦

Male reader X Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae. 

tags: rough sex, bdsm, oral, ass eating, dirty talk, public sex, creampie, anal, shower sex, thighjob, assjob✧ 

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She hadn't done that. It was a figment of your imagination.

No, wait, yes she had. And in a very shameless way. What the fuck.

Sullyoon had told you, before going on stage, that she would do something that would be like a little wink towards you that she was sure you would love. You thought it would be some cute heart sign, or a literal wink at you. But no, the sassy little slut had pulled down the lace shorts she was wearing to her hips, so everyone could see her belly. She had them up after a few seconds, but it was enough for you to become feral.

You had clearly been left speechless. It's not like you have much to say, though; you were so horny that you needed something. Her. As fast as possible. You would miss part of the live performance, yes. But you could see it later, minor details.

Without attracting much attention you snuck out of sight of the staff members. The main building—not the front wing, the one just behind the stage— of Dankook University was quite big. There would almost certainly have to be some empty, remote room. For the love of God, so be it.

You searched through each of the four floors patiently. Unfortunately, the first three floors were busy enough that trying anything was impossible. But also much to your fortune, and almost like a divine gift, you found your holy grail at the end of a hallway on the top floor.

It was a large room with a high ceiling, full of unlit tubular lamps. As soon as you entered, you were greeted by the sight of an immense white wall in the background, with what appeared to be a projection screen rolled up from end to end. The tables were arranged in two rows on each side, each with four chairs. At the end of the aisle left by the seats, and in front of the white wall, was a single longer table with two chairs. It must have been a meeting room, or something like that. It would work more than fine.

Everything in there was taciturn, with enough light to know where everything was and not trip. But it was better that it remained that way; a single room with the lights on was going to raise suspicions much faster than you could imagine. You were lying if you didn't say it was kind of creepy. But the sound of the music, muffled and distant after passing through several layers of cement, somehow managed to counteract the spooky vibes.

You were forced to wait sitting in one of the two chairs at the back, probably dedicated to some dean or lecturer, but now used by a young man eager to fuck his girlfriend. You even took the liberty of making yourself comfortable, since you didn't know how long it would take Sully to get off the stage. So you put both feet up on the table and sank into the seat before pulling out your phone.

You wrote a message to Sully. One that she would see as soon as she picked up her phone when she saw that you weren't there when she got off stage. Simple and precise. About half an hour passed before you received a response.

Sully took longer than you expected to arrive. But you couldn't complain about it. She would surely have to comply with some protocol when leaving the stage, like taking off her in-ear headphones and all that complicated singer stuff. About fifteen more minutes had passed until she entered.

Seeing her face when she walked through the door and found the immense dark space was like a fun reflection of you. She had already noticed where you were since she set foot inside the room. But still, as she walked between the tables, she scrutinized each corner in case some evil spirit decided to assault her.

You just looked at her with a smile that denoted nothing more than pure love. That day she was carrying a couple more levels of spiciness. You could tell by the way she swayed her hips when she walked, and the confidence in which she did it. And how could you blame her? That sexy waist… those long, meaty legs… her tummy, hot as always… and damn, that messy dark hair.

It was fucking fascinating. A perfect sculpture of a woman. And yours.

"Daddy… wasn't there a scarier room?" She asked when she was a couple of meters away from you.

You took your feet off the table and rolled your chair back. Then you spread your legs, a clear signal for Sully to take a seat.

"I literally didn't find any other option, honey. I'm sorry." you said, as she walked around the table in front of you and went straight to sit on your lap, on the side of your left thigh.

Sully raised one thigh to rest it on top of yours, and she wrapped her arms around your neck. From that distance you could see how her body was still covered in a light layer of sweat, shining by the light of a bright street lamp outside. Damn, she looked so sexy you were going to explode.

She gave you a sly smile and kissed your cheek, then your jaw, and then a peck on your lips. You put one hand on her thigh and with the other you surrounded her waist.

"Well, if you made me come here for what I believe, I guess it doesn't matter," she whispered.

The memory came to your mind. Every detail about that moment when she almost made your jaw hit the floor.

"You're a sassy little slut, you know?" You raised an eyebrow, squeezing her thigh gently. "Pulling down your shorts? That's going a bit far."

You placed the hand you had on her thigh on her belly and slowly moved it up to rub the side of her torso. Sully stared at you, while she played with the hair on the back of your neck.

"But I'm wearing safety shorts underneath daddy… even like that?"

"Thousands of people saw you in just those safety shorts. I think that's quite a lot."

"It was only a couple of seconds!" she protested with a little smile. You smiled too, but you managed to hide it by bringing your face to her long neck to give her small kisses.

"Yeah but you already know how possessive I am of you…" you murmured against her skin, while rubbing her waist up and down.

You heard Sully give a small gasp, and she 'inadvertently' dropped her hand to rest on your cock. She didn't squeeze or grab anything, she just left it there. You put your hand on her thigh and rubbed it up and down, rubbing the back of your hand near her crotch.

"Daddy… but you know I made that just for you."

"And what did you want to cause?"

"Well…"

"Being fucked by me as soon as you got off that stage," you interrupted, placing deeper kisses on her neck, with small bites.

Sully moaned and finally squeezed your cock, in a gentle but also deep way. She then massaged it again and again until it started to get hard. You returned favors and stuck one hand directly inside her shorts and her safeties, until you reached her pussy and rubbed it with your fingers. Gently, up and down.

She turned her head, desperately searching for your lips, and you looked up to give them to her. You melted into a fiery, deep kiss. You stifled small moans inside each other's mouths, while you touched each other's intimacies. She melted just from your fingers, which had made her wet in less than a minute.

Your cock was already hard under your pants; Sully reached under them, to grab your shaft and surround it with her fine, soft fingers. She let out a louder moan and squeezed hard. She then separated from your lips, stood up, and with her eyes on you she took off her now surely famous lace shorts to leave them on the table. She was now only in her safeties when she sat on top of you again, this time straddling you.

With your girlfriend's thighs now on either side of your hips the groping intensified. First you wrapped your arms around her body, one behind her waist and the other across her back. You pressed her against you, feeling the warmth of her body against yours as you kissed.

Sully, with her hands on the sides of your neck, moved her hips back and forth, grinding against your hard bulge. You lowered your hands and placed them on her ass, squeezing each buttock firmly. The kiss then became a battle between your tongues, which swirled around each other.

After a few long seconds Sully separated from your lips and put her hands on your chest. Her breathing was heavy, and her cheeks were flushed, just like yours.

"Daddy… I'd love to suck your cock right now, but we don't have much time. I said I needed to go to the bathroom."

You let out a sigh, disappointed.

"It will have to wait, then."

"Do you want me to ride you as compensation?"

"I don’t even know why are you asking, baby," you nodded, and bit her bottom lip gently.

As soon as Sully got off you, you were already with your hands on the hem of your pants; you lowered them by raising your hips, including your boxers, to your ankles. Sully meanwhile did the same. She turned her back to you, and she pulled down her safeties and her panties to get both off her legs.

You and your girlfriend worked as a perfectly coordinated team: while you were spitting on your cock and making it very slippery, Sully had already taken a couple of steps back and had bent her knees to leave her ass floating above your cock, which you held straight so she only had to impale herself on it.

"Mmmm…" Sully moaned softly, as she slowly lowered her ass until it rested against your pelvis, your cock now hidden between her butt cheeks.

Your girlfriend's pussy felt as silky and tight as ever. You growled, hands gripping her waist. She rested her hands on your knees, and turned to look at you with an amazing movement of her hair, which left it all in front of her left shoulder. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, just as she started moving her ass up and down.

You squeezed Sully's waist between your fingers, teeth clenched and your toes curled inside your shoes. She bit her lip and left her mouth ajar, her moans soon twisting her face until a few seconds later she was unable to hold your gaze.

She bounced faster and harder, and the sound of her flesh slapping against yours reverberated through the large, once silent room. Added to that were Sully's moans, and also the two spanks you gave to her left buttock. Her shiny hair looked very tempting to pull, but you'd do it a different way.

You let Sully bounce as much as she wanted on your cock, but when you thought she had enough of it, you made her stop and stood up with her, taking her in front of the table and bending her over it. She looked at you over her shoulder, her hands resting on the cold surface and her stomach flat against it.

"Is daddy going to punish me for being too much of a slut?" she asked, not with her puppy dog eyes, but with those bold, sharp, piercing eyes.

Sully had become like that over time. Spicy. Naughty. It wasn't like you were complaining about it, quite the opposite: it was a plus that you didn't know you needed in her until it just started happening. You definitely had to thank Chaeyoung's influence, and maybe a little bit of Yeseo’s and Jiheon’s. That trio of demons had transformed Sully into a monster.

"And what if I only enhance how much of a slut you are thanks to that?" you asked back, one hand kneading and squeezing her buttocks as you rested balls deep inside her.

She giggled and thought about it for a moment, before looking into your eyes again.

"Then you can punish me again… and again, and again. Until I stop being a sassy slut."

You chuckled.

"I see no way that could happen, darling."

You gave her a single hard pump, which made her let out a moan.

"Great. That way I can be daddy's sex doll all the time… and without getting tired."

Oh, my God. She outdid herself this time. That deserved that you do it too, no less.

The first instinct you had, this time yes, was to grab a handful of her hair and pull it back to arch her back. Then you started fucking her, fast, hard and without any shame because of the noise you were making.

Sully also showed no shame for looking as horny as you were. She moaned, grunted, and muttered all kinds of curses to herself while you hammered her pussy from behind. At one point she slammed her open palm on the table, so hard it sounded like a small explosion.

"Punish me daddy! Hard! As hard as you want to!" she whimpered, and you complied with her request, giving each buttock a spicy spank with squeeze included.

Having made sure that your hands had been marked in red on her buttocks, you gave another tug on her hair so that she could lift her body. Then you quickly grabbed her neck and shoulder and pressed your chest and back together.

From there you were able to fill the side of Sully's face with kisses and bites. Your fingers clung tightly to her neck as you pumped as hard as you could, not afraid to split her in half. She turned her face and met your lips, instantly capturing them to muffle moans against them.

You used your other arm to wrap around her belly and feel that soft flesh for a moment. Then you lowered your hand and reached for her pussy, to rub her clit as best as you could between all the shakes. Sully stopped kissing you and left her mouth slightly open, brushing against yours. She was unable to make coherent sounds, paralyzed with pleasure.

You were staring into each other's eyes when she flinched and a sudden spasm signaled that she was cumming. Sully grabbed onto your right wrist with both hands and squeezed it, finally letting out a deep, savage growl that showed how delighted she was.

She tensed against your body and dug her nails into your wrist, moving somewhat messily against your cock. You only waited a few seconds, between slow pumps, to get out of her and grab her by the waist and turn her around.

As if she were able to read your mind, the first thing she did—without you telling her—was sit on the edge of the table and spread her legs wide for you. Her pretty pussy, soaked and perfectly shaved, at your mercy. The idea of falling to your knees and eating her out was very appealing. But it was going to be a big delay for her, so you defeated your intrusive thoughts that time.

"I feel like I haven't been punished enough daddy…" Sully said, a few strands of hair stuck to her face. "Is that all you fucking have for me?"

You let out an incredulous giggle and shook your head. She sounded exactly like Shuhua. Bad examples everywhere.

"Shut your mouth and don't poke me with the stick, Seol Yoonah," you raised a finger in warning, and then you settled between her legs to leave your cock resting on her lower abdomen.

There was a silence between the two of you. You just stared at each other.

"Or-what?" she finally said, defiantly.

You sighed.

Very well, you should give her what she wanted, then. You raised one hand and gave her such a slap that her face was turned to one side, and her hair covered that side. Sully let out a groan and smiled. Before she could say anything, you grabbed your cock and guided it back into her pussy.

Whatever she was going to say was replaced with a cute squeal. She looked into your eyes, still with that damn victorious smile on her face. It wasn't until you started pumping in and out, and you gave her another slap, that her smile turned into a sexy grimace of pleasure.

"Let it be clear that you asked for it."

You reached behind her back, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and pulled it back so that her neck was as exposed as possible for you to kiss while you fucked her.

"I'm not saying otherwise…" she moaned as you filled every corner of her neck with saliva. "I would do it again."

"What a fucking whore you've become, huh?" you growled, and bit her jaw.

"So what?" She put a hand on the back of your neck and tangled her fingers in strands of your hair. "Daddy loves it… and I love being daddy's little whore."

You growled and let go of her hair to stand up straight, grab her waist with an iron grip and hammer her pussy without any mercy. Sully was a good girl and kept her legs spread wide, even between moans and crashes.

You had your teeth clenched, crazy about the way you made her face twist. That girl was the living representation of duality in people: for most of the time she was an innocent little angel, worthy of being kept in a little glass box. But mother of god, now, when she was getting fucked, she was like the hottest porn actress.

"D-Daddy?"

"Yes darling?" you managed to say.

"Can I swallow your load? Mmmh!" she asked between whimpers. "I want to have it in my mouth… please!"

Of course that was like plugging a USB killer directly into your brain. You could no longer keep your mind distracted to last more, no matter how much that was your goal. Words like those, coming out of her mouth at a moment like that, were like a spell that was impossible to repel.

"Get off," you ordered.

You pulled out of her pussy and Sully jumped off the table. She instantly fell to her knees in front of your cock, the tip of which she put inside her mouth to jerk your shaft as fast as she could. This led to an orgasm that made you moan out loud.

You shot stream after stream of thick cum into your girlfriend’s mouth, who had dispensed with the use of her hand; now only moving her mouth across your cock in a slow and sensual blowjob that had the sole objective of draining your balls.

She watched you at all times, even when she gave you the most mind-blowing deepthroat, with no gag reflex or even a single god damn hint of it. This time you had to thank Yeseo. That little nympho whore.

When nothing else came out of your cock, Sully pulled you out of her mouth with a loud slurp. She then stuck out her tongue so you could see how she had swallowed it all, and it had been a considerable load.

"Fuck… and you don't even deserve it," you gasped, brushing Sully's hair out of her face.

"I'll have to share you later, daddy," she replied as she placed affectionate kisses down your shaft. "Not with one but two more people. It seems like a fair way to make it up to me."

You sighed, looked into nothingness and gave up looking for an answer.

"Yeah, you're right. But you don't deserve it."

"Oh come on daddy, relax a little," she jumped to her feet and showered your face with kisses. "I'm always a good girl… but well, today I wanted to tease you."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Slut. Sassy slut."

Sully smiled from ear to ear.

"Only yours. Are you going to complain?"

"Not in the least. Now come on, get dressed, we have to go."

Sully obeyed and hurried to get dressed just like you. She fixed herself as best she could, but there was still a small trace of red on her cheek where you had given her the first slap. She would find a convincing excuse, she always did. But Haewon would probably be the first to connect the dots; she was formidable at it.

"You go first, I'll go wait in the car," you said behind her, as you combed her hair the best you could.

"You're sure?" she asked, looking ahead. "Don't you want to say goodbye to the girls? Jiwoo will kill you for not doing so."

"I'll submit to her judgment later," you turned her around and gave her hair the finishing touches. "But even arriving minutes after you is very suspicious."

"Do you really think no one knows what we do?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No one knows we did it just now. You said you were going to the bathroom, and I just disappeared."

"But you left without saying anything before I got off the stage, right?"

Shit.

"Uh… yeah."

"Then it's the same thing. It's just as suspicious," she raised two knuckles and tapped you on the forehead.

"Um… whatever. I'm not going to put up with Lily's teasing today."

Sully shrugged and shook her head.

"As you wish, daddy," she snuggled into your chest and gave you a loving kiss. "I'll see you in an hour, maybe less."

"Count on it, my love," you nodded, and after placing a kiss on her forehead, Sully turned away and headed for the exit.

Waiting in your car was no bother to you; you were so proud of it and of yourself that you took advantage of any slightest excuse to use it.

That Purosangue was an exact copy of the one you had rented that time in Milan to hang out with Hanni: black chrome on the outside, only with cream-colored interior upholstery. Ordering it to be brought to Korea had been almost as expensive as the damn car; it was only possible thanks to a couple of good investments you had made last year. And yet, you were still recovering financially from that purchase.

But it was already yours, it was already there. And damn, you were happier than a kid in a toy store.

You knew that the supposed waiting hour that Sully had promised would be longer, so as soon as you sank into the car seat, you took out a jar of Pringles from a bag in the back seat and opened a live video on Instagram to chat with your followers. The number of spectators rose at an alarming rate; at that point, an hour and a few minutes later, you had about 9k.

"Bro where you at…" you read among the comments. It was a question you expected, since you had the lights inside off and the only thing visible about your face was thanks to the university light. "I'm in my car, uhm… waiting."

You put a chip in your mouth and continued reading.

"Waiting for what?" you read again. "Death. My Italian ass has always wanted to die inside a Ferrari."

Laughter after laughter in the comments. You did your best to stay serious and make it even funnier.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, I'm serious."

You looked to the left, towards the covered parking lot where the girls were supposed to appear at any moment. It was the most discreet option possible, since it was not a very busy area at that time and that specific building was the furthest from all the crowds.

"Dude, who is that girl in your backseat?" you read, and your eyes widened as you turned around and slammed the phone down, by pure reflex. There was no one. For a moment you thought that, for some reason, one of the girls had somehow sneaked into the car. But it was a joke. "Bro, oh my god I'm gonna ban you… oh no, right, this is Instagram."

The live was filled with comments from people curious about why you had covered the camera so quickly. You didn't read any out loud. One in particular said: 'This guy has a girlfriend who doesn't want to show on camera.' Close, pretty close.

"Do your gossiping asses want to know the truth? Aight, I have a famous girlfriend and if I show her I’m gonna be in serious trouble, what's the matter?"

You read for a few seconds, and the truth was that you were making an inhuman effort not to laugh.

"A From Software fan getting hoes? Good joke brother, try better," you read, and a smile escaped your lips. Thank god you had a chromosome graveyard as a chat. "But I’m handsome as fuck!" you protested. "Still From Software fan," you clicked your tongue. "Aight bro."

Another fifteen minutes passed where you were discussing random things with the chat. That day you weren't particularly willing to give a serious opinion about anything, so you were just contradicting everyone for fun.

"Bro, there's no way you're going to make me say non-ironically that Dark Souls 2 is a good game."

Something new in your peripheral vision made you look away from the screen to look to the left. Three people emerged from the parking lot, wrapped in heavy coats and caps that covered their eyes. It was them.

"Alright, bunch of virgins, I have to go, fuck y’all. Have a nice night," you showed the middle finger to the camera and ended the live.

You were in a pretty bad posture for your back, so as you straightened up in your seat you let out a moan worthy of an old man. One of the girls, probably Haewon because of her height—or the lack of it—, had seen you and burst out laughing as she walked around the car front.

The girl opened the passenger door, and when you saw her eyes you confirmed that it was Haewon.

"Were you doing yoga or what?" she asked, sitting in the passenger seat, while Bae and Sully took the back seats. She then took off her cap and leaned to kiss your cheek.

"I had to get comfortable while I waited for you, woman."

You pressed the touch button on the steering wheel and started the car.

"I couldn't even see you until you decided to sit up straight, oppa," Bae said from behind, followed by a chuckle from Sully. "Is your back okay?"

"Fuck, I'd love to say yes," you sighed, looking down the street, and turned right to circle the campus. "Did something happen? You took longer than I expected."

Haewon also took off her coat, underneath it she was wearing the same pants that she wore for the stage, but on top instead of the college sweater she was only wearing a white, tight-fitting crop top with thin straps. In the rearview mirror you noticed that Sully and Bae had done the same.

"Oh you know, trying to convince manager-nim," she said, as if it were a trivial thing. "It was a little tougher this time. We have more university festivals over the next few days."

"Another tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," the three of them said in unison, in an exhausted tone.

"What time should I take you tomorrow, then?" you asked, finally leaving the university campus behind.

"At two in the afternoon," Haewon replied as she looked at her phone.

"Aight, we have time to relax a little then."

"Well, I don't know about you," Bae said. "But as soon as I arrive I'll take a shower and go straight to bed."

"Why are you so boring!" Sully complained. "We were going to play Monopoly!"

"It'll only be a couple of hours! I'm exhausted."

"Well, you'll have to sleep with the AirPods on because…" Haewon began, but she left the sentence hanging in the air.

You smiled, already knowing what she meant. But you looked out the window as you stopped at a traffic light.

"Huh? What do you mean by that?" Bae asked.

"I think you better listen to her," Sully said with a chuckle.

"That's how loud you are playing Monopoly?"

You and Haewon looked at each other. She couldn't hold back her laughter and turned to look at Bae.

"We're not going to play Monopoly," she said.

"Wait, we won't?" Sully said.

"Oh my god…" you mumbled to yourself, in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah. But you know, we wanted to play something else."

“Ahhhh…” you saw Sully nod out of the corner of your eye as you looked out the window. "True, true."

There was silence between the four of you. Now only the low noise of the radio could be heard, which you were forced to turn up a little. The light turned green, so you started again. Haewon stared at her phone, and Sully had pulled out her iPad, where you heard she was playing Minecraft.

"Ohhh!" Bae said, breaking the silence, as if she had discovered a secret of the universe. "You're gonna have sex!"

Haewon locked her phone and closed her eyes with a deep breath. You remained expressionless, and swallowed, short of words to say. Sully on the other hand dropped the iPad on the mat under her feet.

"Am I invited?" she asked, and there was another silence.

Haewon opened her eyes and looked at you. You shrugged. You had never fucked with Bae, mostly because you had never fooled around like that unlike with Lily or Jiwoo. But that night could be a perfect chance.

"I’m cool with it," you said. "But those decisions go through Sullyoonie first."

Well, most of them. Some others went through Chaeyoung, others through Hanni, and others through Jiheon. Few things were your direct responsibility. Like when days ago, Lily gave you so many signs that she wanted to get fucked bu you that you gave in to her Australian charm, to which you were already weak.

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun," said Sully, whose view you knew was on the iPad screen and not on you.

"Yay!" Bae said.

“The only thing you need to know is that I…” Haewon started to say.

"But I still decline the offer. I want to sleep," Bae interrupted.

Haewon closed her eyes again and took another deep breath. You raised your eyebrows and brought a hand to your forehead. Bae knew how to get you off your nerves, but this time she had taken it as a challenge.

"You try to get in and I'll kick you out, Bae Jinsol," Sully warned seconds later, in a low but threatening voice.

"And I'm going to moan so loud that you'll have to go out on the balcony," Haewon said.

"No, because I'll have the AirPods on."

You couldn't help but giggle as you shook your head. Haewon glared at you, so you had to cover your mouth and hold back your smile.

"Alright, all three of you shut your mouths," you said, and looked in the rearview mirror. As you expected, Sully was staring at her iPad, while Bae, sitting in the middle, just looked at both sides of the street. "We have an hour left on the trip so, enjoy the music."

What better option than playing DAMN? That's what you did, after asking Haewon for help to take your phone and connect it to the car herself. Then you could focus on driving.

The rest of the trip was more than peaceful: you and Haewon vibed to every song on the album and sang some verses together. You just didn't sing during PRIDE; it reminded you of your night with Hanni in Milan, probably one of the most fulfilling moments of your life. The lyrics didn't go with her or with you, but it was common to associate songs with people for random reasons. That was Hanni's.

Who by the way, was now a cute femboy. My god. The things you were going to do.

Bae asked for the name of some songs. Sully, well. Sully kept playing Minecraft until you arrived in Seongsu-dong, where you had now lived since October of last year. The apartment wasn't yours yet; you paid it in installments thanks to a mortgage loan, which you estimated you could pay in full by the middle of next year if you managed to close a sponsorship deal that this company had offered you less than a week ago.

After considerable floors in the elevator and walking through a small corridor, you finally arrived at your place. The first thing you saw when you opened the door was a small hallway, with two doors on each side: one was a small closet that you used to dry clothes and the other was your laundry room.

Once you crossed the hallway you finally found the big elegant space, made up mostly of the living room, located to the left, and the dining table and the kitchen, right in front of you. The smell of sandalwood essence, emanated from your air freshener, immediately delighted your nostrils.

The room walls were white, while the corridor ones were made of dark oak wood. The countertops, and the kitchen in general, were made of a beautiful polished marble that blended perfectly with the gray floor. In the living room, the furniture was mostly gray and others were brown, color also present in some cushions and various decorations.

The place was everything you ever wanted in a house. It was cozy and elegant, with a color palette that had you in love and a considerable number of windows arranged along the entire wall. You had left the blinds open, so the first thing you did was go to close them.

"Ahhh!" Bae squealed, blurting out all of her stuff in front of the hallway, "Hi Rory!"

Rory was the gorgeous ragdoll cat that you had adopted thanks to Chaeyoung's idea a year ago. Bae had run to hug her and shower her with kisses. She was a quiet and lazy cat; she wasn't exactly affectionate, but she didn't avoid contact with humans either. She didn't care at all, basically.

But she wasn't the only furry being in your house at the time.

"Helios!" Sully greeted as she headed towards the other hallway, the one that led to the bedrooms.

Helios, on the other hand, was a toyger cat. You had also adopted him thanks to Chaeyoung, who didn't have to put much effort into convincing you since you were a cat lover before. He, unlike Rory, loved physical affection, a constant demander of attention and pampering. Although he was significantly dumber.

Sully bent down to pet him and disappeared into the hallway, probably to leave her things in your room.

"Bae Jinsol!" Haewon called, setting her things down on the dining room table. "Pick up your things!"

Bae suddenly turned and looked at her things scattered on the floor, then looked at you, who stood close to her as you closed the blinds of the window in the corner.

"Don't look at me," you shrugged. "She rules when she gets here."

"But it's your house!"

You backed away from the corner and walked to the kitchen, passing Haewon.

"Yeah, I know. But tell that to her."

Bae looked at Haewon, who stared at her without a hint of softness in her eyes. Bae didn't even question her, it was useless. She just stood up and went to pick up her things without saying a word.

“I thought so,” Haewon nodded, satisfied, and she stood next to you as you looked into the fridge for food. She put her hand on your waist and rested her cheek on your arm. "You come with me?"

"Where to?" You took out a plate with a slice of pizza that you had left over from lunch that day.

"To take a shower, of course," she replied, lowering her voice.

"Will you let me eat first?"

"Will you eat my ass later?"

You smiled and looked over your shoulder to make sure Bae was distracted, then you wrapped your arm around Haewon's waist and squeezed her ass.

"Bet."

Haewon bit her lip and turned to look back with an amused expression. You removed your hand from her ass.

"Hey, charred brains!" she called out to Bae, who turned around. She was now sitting next to Rory. "Weren't you going to take a shower?"

"Ah, yeah," Bae nodded, and she stood up to grab her bag. "Oppa, can I use the bathtub?" she asked you.

"Aha. Just make sure you empty it later, please."

"Understood!"

She gave Rory one last caress and disappeared down the same hallway Sully had walked down just minutes ago.

You were left alone with Haewon, who went to lean on the counter behind you, hands on the edge as she watched you. You closed the fridge, left the plate with the slice of pizza on the counter next to the sink and turned to her.

"Aren't you gonna go wait for me in the shower?" You stood in front of her. Your eyes remained fixed.

"Come here and kiss me first, I deserve it for having to deal with that girl every day."

You took another step forward and pressed yourself against her. Then cupped her face in your hands and smashed your lips together without hesitation.

Few pairs of lips were as pleasant to kiss as Haewon's. They were fluffy and thick, with a hazelnut aftertaste thanks to her lip balm, and boy did she know how to use them. You liked that she was always in control when you kissed, since she always knew when to make it slower and more passionate or more disastrous and fiery.

On that occasion, the situation warranted that you taste each other as quickly as possible, so your heads went from side to side in the middle of a wild kiss that was anything but discreet and silent.

You put an arm around her waist and with a little effort you lifted her onto the counter, then she clung to your neck with her arms and your torso with her strong thighs. You grabbed one of her breasts, and with a muffled moan against your lips she reached down to give your cock a squeeze.

"Oppa, where do you keep the…" Bae said, again from the hallway. She didn't finish the sentence as you abruptly separated from Haewon, whose pale cheeks were now red. "Incense… Not even five minutes oh my god!"

"Uh…" you looked at the ceiling, reorganizing your thoughts. "Inside the sink mirror," you finally answered, still staring up.

"Very well, thank you," she looked at Helios, who was lying on the side of a single couch in the living room. "Helios, come on! Don't watch those things."

You didn't expect Helios to truly obey her, but he did. He followed Bae down the hallway. Rory, on the other hand, had fallen asleep on the couch.

You and Haewon looked at each other.

"Go wait for me in the shower, please," you begged. "If we keep going I'll fuck you right here."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"I'm hungry, woman," you gestured towards the plate of pizza.

Haewon brought her hands to her jeans button and undid them, then leaned back on the counter and with a lift of her hips she took them off. She settled on the surface and spread her legs wide, exposing her slit, covered by white panties from which a tiny wet spot peeked out.

"Haewon…"

"And don't you fancy an entry?" She asked, grabbing her panties to pull them aside and show you her pretty pink pussy.

Your gaze stayed there where Haewon ran two fingers up and down between her folds. You also looked at her thighs and buttocks, both worthy of a volleyball player. All that was left was for her to take off her top and release those pair of perfect round tits that you swore to God didn't stop growing. Still, that was enough to make you give in. Damn woman.

"I'll accept the entrance," you sighed, and stepped forward to replace her hand with yours. "But you'll have to wait for the shower for the main attraction."

You knelt between Haewon's legs, her pussy now inches from your face. Foreplay wasn't necessary, and you didn't want to do it either. So without a second thought you clung to her thighs and buried your mouth in her folds.

“Mmm…” she moaned, stroking your hair as you ran your tongue up and down. "It's funny how easily you always fall for this trick."

"You better shut your mouth before I leave you like this," you said softly, tasting Haewon's pussy more hungrily each time.

She gave your hair a little tug and then continued caressing it, in a rather affectionate way.

"I doubt you want to do that…" she gasped between labored breaths.

"Do not challenge me."

You became more frantic with your licking and sucking, but that led to Haewon becoming louder, which you didn't know how much you cared since there was actually nothing to hide. Maybe it was a matter of protecting the only bit of decorum that you thought you had left, but the reality was that it had all disappeared the first moment you lost your fear of fucking in public places.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? If Sully came out to see what was happening, she would end up joining anyway. But it was kind of difficult for that to happen. She was probably in your bed, in the exact same clothes she was wearing when she arrived while she played on her iPad. Bae, on the other hand, would already be in the bathtub and you knew she didn't give a damn.

So well, you let Haewon moan as much and as loud as she wanted while you ate her out.

You loved eating her pussy as much as kissing her lips. That's how you let her know every time you did it, letting out soft moans of satisfaction at how delicious it was.

But damn, pizza with sausage, ham and peppers was also exquisite. And your stomach was growling.

"Alright sweetie, let's do this quickly," you said, licking your lips. Then you stood up.

Haewon looked at you with a furrowed brow and was about to protest, but you were quicker and kissed her immediately. She was also about to protest in the middle of the kiss, but then you took your middle and ring fingers inside her pussy.

She let out a whimper against your lips and clutched at your hoodie with one hand, then she crumpled it with a tug as your fingers made their way between her tight walls.

“That's cheating…” she gasped against your lips. "Damn cheater."

"I'm preparing you for when I'm going to fuck your brains out in the shower… how ungrateful."

Without giving her time to take a breath you pumped at a gradually faster and faster pace. Your fingers slid smoothly, soaked in Haewon's glistening fluids. Soon the sound of your palm constantly colliding with her crotch reverberated through the room, as did her loud moans.

Haewon let her head fall back, still clinging to your hoodie as if it were the only thing capable of keeping her in place. You put your free arm around her, and watched her grimace and squirm.

"Please take your cock out and put it inside me!" she asked with a whimper. "Don’t make me wait!"

"Fuck woman, can't you be a little patient?" you asked quietly, and raised an eyebrow. You pumped fast and hard, intensifying the wet sound of her pussy.

"I don't want to be patient, I want you to fill my pussy!" she said with a punch to your chest.

"Shhh… cum, love, come on."

No matter how rude Haewon pretended to be, it was adorable how that combination of words always worked. Like a magical spell of those that Sullyoon applied on you against your will. Haewon closed her thighs around your wrist, which felt like being caught in two hydraulic presses at maximum power. And with a squeal she let herself be carried away by her orgasm.

"Mmmhhh!! Son of a bitch!" she screamed, frustrated, in the midst of intense spasms that you were responsible for keeping at bay with your grip.

"Yeah yeah…" you nodded, making an effort to continue moving your wrist, since it was surrounded by two pieces of muscular flesh.

"I'm not letting you out of that damn shower until you've filled every damn hole in me," she growled, and you knew she meant business.

"Anything you want, cutie. But I want my pizza first."

Haewon closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Her orgasm passed after a few seconds, and only then she did release your wrist.

You didn't know how hard she was really squeezing until you felt how your blood rushed normally to your hand. What a menace of a woman.

"Come on, clean up."

You took your fingers out of her and brought them to her mouth. Haewon accepted them with obvious annoyance, but she didn't complain as she sucked them hard in a taste of her own fluids. When you took your fingers out, they were perfectly clean.

"What makes you think you can order me around?"

You stepped back and let her get off the counter. You turned your back on her and went to the other counter to grab the plate of pizza.

"Go wait for me in the shower, Oh Haewon," you purposely ordered without looking at her, and went to the microwave.

There was no response from her, instead, from the corner of your eye you saw how she reluctantly grabbed her jeans and walked straight towards the hallway. Thank God. Now it was just you with your slice of pizza, which you heated up and ate accompanied by a Pepsi.

You were patient, maybe too patient, with that little alone time you had once Haewon went to the shower. You sat on the large L-shaped sofa for about five minutes. Next to you, a dozing Rory purred when you placed a hand on her back to caress her.

Haewon would probably be mad at you by now for taking so long. But if you were about to be drained by what was probably one of the best asses in the industry and certainly the best pair of thighs, you had to mentally prepare yourself. Because damn, that woman could be pretty intense sometimes.

Besides, you wanted to see a tripleS stage. You were quite in that group for the last few days, and you had a pending video to watch. A couple of them caught your attention, and you had understood from things you had heard and read, that they would be at the Korea University festival tomorrow. The same where NMIXX and NewJeans would perform. Maybe…?

No, you already had enough with all the girls that were in your life, which were not few. The most sensible thing was to be grateful for all the incredible luck you had for a year now and not try to squeeze the handkerchief even more. You didn't want to become a womanizer.

Above all, it was incredibly self-centered and reprehensible thinking for you to believe that where you put your eye you could put the bullet.

The fact that it had worked so far was a matter of, once again, pure luck: you and the girls were mostly a fuck buddy relationship, like it could happen with Yeseo, Shuhua or Rei. They all knew their position and had no emotional bond with you beyond a simple friendship.

Then there were those you considered friends with benefits, a group that included Dani, or Jiheon, or Sumin, or Haewon herself. With them the relationship wasn’t that different since sex was something common, but you did have an emotional bond with them; they were real friends, and you loved them.

Still, very few of those relationships had been born as a whim of yours alone. The rest had been thanks to Sully, Chaeyoung—better known as Lee Isa— and Hanni. Your three babies. Your three loves. They were far from being just friends; there were very strong feelings involved.

You didn't have to push your luck any further. Just no. But those tripleS girls… good lord.

Okay, enough. You were going to let whatever had to happen happen. You weren't going to force anything or play with fire.

You had been deep in your thoughts, and checking the time on your phone you realized that it had been over 20 minutes since Haewon had gone to the shower.

Of course she didn't take long to call you. It wasn't necessary to answer, you just left the phone on the couch and ran to your room. You weren't surprised to find Sully face down on your bed, in her panties and sports bra. Now she was playing Genshin Impact. Next to her was Helios, licking his paw to run it over his head.

You looked to the left. The tall black glass wall that separated the bedroom from the bathroom was closed. Behind would be Bae, having probably the most peaceful moment of the day in the bathtub, music in her ears and incense burning.

You turned to Sully, who hadn't noticed your presence yet since the door was open.

You cleared your throat and leaned your shoulder against the door frame.

"Honey, are you coming?"

“Uh…” Sully took a few seconds to put the iPad down and look at you. "Where, daddy?"

"To the bathroom, with me and Haewon."

"Oh…" she looked thoughtful, then grimaced. "No, I'm exhausted and I don't feel like it anymore for today. I'm sorry daddy."

You smiled and nodded, understanding.

"Nothing to be sorry about, dear," you walked over to the bed, knelt on the edge of it, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, shoulder, and forehead. "But for the love of God, put on some clothes, or take a shower, I don't know."

"But Bae is using the bathroom!" she objected.

“Bae is using the bathtub,” you corrected. "Not the shower."

"That is the same!"

"Of course not. You can use the shower while she uses the bathtub."

"But-"

"She's seen you naked before, hasn't she?"

"Yes but…" she looked at her iPad and groaned. "Ugh, fine."

Sully reluctantly stood up and went to the glass wall. You stood up too, as Haewon was calling you again.

"Don't be a brat, you weren't going to sleep with me without taking a bath."

"You weren't going to sleep with me without taking a bath," she imitated you in a silly voice, then she stuck her tongue out at you and slid the glass just enough for her to get in without you looking inside.

What bad influences did. Sully was full of them.

You let out a long breath and, before Haewon went out to find you herself, you went to the guest bathroom.

It was considerably smaller than the main bathroom, with the sink just in front of the entrance, the toilet to the right, and the shower to the left. Inside it you found Haewon, already completely naked in the shower, with the phone in her hand. She had removed her extensions, and her short hair was held to the sides of her head by two clips.

And she wasn’t happy. Not at all.

"Haessal…"

'Haessal' was the pet name you had for Haewon. It was the closest thing to a Korean translation of 'Sunshine'. Besides, it was like a cute modification of her real name.

"Haessal my ass," she said as you closed the door behind you. "Come here."

You nodded and looked down. You undressed as quickly as you could, but Haewon's gaze burning into your skin made you nervous and you almost crashed into the wall on the right. You cleared your throat to hide your embarrassment, and once naked you went into the shower with her.

"There was no reason for you to spend twenty-five minutes out there," she said, and turned her back on you to slide the glass closest to the sink to leave her phone there. Then closed it again.

You took a step forward, which in that small space left you with your body pressed against hers. Your cock against her round ass. Haewon turned her head and glared at you, as the water from the shower fell between her body and yours.

"I was spending some time with my daughter, woman, can you blame me?"

You surrounded Haewon's body with your two arms, one of them just below her breasts, which you raised a little. The tight hug made the water fall on the back of your neck, but also that you could now feel almost every corner of her against you. Then, you started kissing her neck.

"Liar. I could hear Girls Never Die from here," she said, cold as ice despite your attempts to melt her.

"It was just the song, I was petting Rory."

"You're lying again. I could hear the stage fanchants."

You let out a sigh and gave up, your face buried in her neck.

"Very well, if you insist so much."

With one arm around her abdomen you exchanged positions: she was now on the side of the wall opposite the shower, which now fell on your back. As upset as she seemed, she didn't put up any resistance when you placed a hand on her neck and forced her to bend forward, her hands resting on the ceramic wall.

You got on your knees behind her, her round, firm, perfect ass inches from your face. Having that view was like seeing one of the seven wonders of the world, especially if you looked down a little further and found those beefy thighs ready to be made to tremble.

You didn't make her wait much longer. You grabbed her buttocks, one in each hand, and spread them apart to bury your face between them. You directly attacked her butthole with your tongue, which made Haewon tense up and let out a gasp that you knew was originally a moan, but in her desire to appear cold, she had hidden it.

Let it be a challenge, then. You loved challenges.

Not only did you lick and kiss Haewon's butthole, you also went down every few seconds to lick her pussy, between her folds, and inside her. You squeezed her buttocks, which transformed into two anti-stress masses with a smooth surface and spongy texture. You spanked one of them, and the drops of water on it splashed on you.

"You're cheating again…" she gasped, and you could hear a hint of a moan. "Don't you know any other method to calm me down?"

"I know several," you replied, now working with greater eagerness on her butthole. "But then we'd get cheesy, and right now I just want to fuck the anger out of you."

"Then fucking do it, coward," she snapped.

You spanked her again, harder, hoping she would shut her mouth once and for all. To your surprise she let out a whimper, muffled against her pursed lips. You continued the licks around, against and into her butthole for a few more seconds. But soon your cock felt painfully hard.

You stood up, spit on your hand and brought it to your cock to lubricate it. Then you held Haewon's waist with your left hand, while with the other you guided your tip to her pussy to sink into it with a single slow motion.

"Mmmgh yes!" she moaned loudly, and bit her lower lip hard. "Fucking finally."

If someone told you that even Haewon's pussy was muscular inside you would have believed it without many questions. You gasped, delighting in how extraordinarily good the softness and warmth of her walls felt wrapped around your cock, which was now completely inside her.

"This was what you wanted, wasn't it?" You growled, placing your free hand on her waist as well. "Now moan for me, you tough bitch."

Haewon's pussy was already well lubricated thanks to her own fluids, which meant that you could slide in and out of her without any resistance. That allowed you to hammer her hard and mercilessly right from the start.

She couldn't hold back any longer and finally grimaced, moaning with each frantic thrust that took your cock completely in and out of her. The sound of her firm flesh colliding against yours rang out over the falling water, and reverberated between the walls of the small bathroom.

"Do you think that damn wonderful ass is for decoration?" she asked, looking at it as you make it jiggle with each crash. "Spank it, squeeze it! Hmmgh!"

Complying with such a request was mandatory. But maybe you had gotten a little carried away, since once the first spank fell, you continued again and again. Haewon moaned at first, but with the last few those moans turned into screams of pleasure. You didn't stop until those beautiful buttocks were so red that they looked like they were about to bleed at any moment.

With the spanks covered, you dedicated yourself to squeeze and massage her buttocks, which had to intensify the itch generated by the burning on her skin. You didn't mind, and neither did she, since she was enjoying it even more than you.

You left one hand on her left buttock and brought the other to her hair. It was a shame it wasn't as long as before, but that didn't stop you from grabbing a good handful of it and pulling back.

"Oh my god keep going! You're gonna make me cum so hard!" Haewon screeched, as you pumped without a small hint of exhaustion.

Haewon pursed her lips and wrinkled her forehead, frozen in what were the seconds before her orgasm. She exploded with just a few more thrusts, and slammed the side of her fist into the wall with a grunt.

But you didn't slow down; you fucked her through her orgasm. You grabbed one of her thighs and made her lift her leg, which you held in the air below her knee. Haewon's body was now slightly sideways, allowing you to watch her pair of wet tits bounce again and again.

She was no longer moaning, now she was whimpering. When she opened her eyes to look at you you could see tears in them. Perfect. Did she not want to be railed? May she reap what she sowed in you.

"Are you gonna fill my pussy, you fucking liar?" she growled with a hand on your chest, looking at you with eyes overflowing with lust. "I think you should hurry up. I'm crazy about draining those balls with my mouth too."

You gritted your teeth and groaned in pleasure. You hugged Haewon's thigh with both arms, clinging to it like a koala to a branch. She stretched even further, putting her ankle over your shoulder to rest it there. Now, with that posture worthy of a ballerina, you had the perfect angle to make you enter the final stretch.

Haewon went back to whining. Between that dirty talk towards you she hadn’t realized that another orgasm was just around the corner, because while you destroyed her pussy with fast and strong thrusts, she came again.

She put a hand to her mouth and let out another grunt of pure pleasure, her eyes rolled back. The visual input of her twisted face, the way her thigh trembled under your arms, and the suffocating grip of her pussy were more than enough to make you explode inside her.

"Ughhh!" you growled, resting balls deep inside her as you painted the walls of her pussy in her white. "My god!"

“Oh fuck yes…” she sighed, caressing your chest with her fingers. "That's… put it all inside."

With slow and deliberate pumps you made sure to leave every drop of your load inside her. When you were done, your cock came out like a plug and let a whole ass waterfall of cum seep through her folds and fall to the shower floor. This quickly dissolved in water and disappeared into the drain.

"Let me fucking kiss you for the love of god," you said with a gasp.

"You know I never say no to that," Haewon replied, with a hint of a smile.

"Liar," you said, and took her leg off your shoulder.

Haewon giggled and let you approach her. You turned her around, wrapped your arms around her and lifted her into the air. She gripped her strong thighs around your body, and wrapped her arms around your neck. Then you stuck her back to the wall and kissed her.

It could have been 5 or 15 minutes, you couldn't really tell, because when you kissed Haewon, her addictive lips made you enter a deep trance. You could just go on and on, but a greater need called you.

"Mmmh…" Haewon moaned softly, as you pulled away from her lips and took one of her tits into your mouth. "I was starting to wonder when you were going to give them some love."

"Ever since I got in the shower you've treated me like a piece of trash," you said, perhaps with a little too much drama.

The fact that her tits seemed bigger every day was not an exaggeration at all, although perhaps it was just a product of your mind, which had a special fixation on them. But how could you not have it if those pair of mounds bordered on perfection?

"My god, you're such a crybaby," she teased with a giggle, her fingers affectionately stroking the hair at the nape of your neck. "Would you forgive me, sweetheart?"

You licked and sucked on her nipples, up and down in a slow, tortuous rhythm. Haewon let out another small moan.

"Hmm… it doesn't sound like you mean it," you murmured against the skin of one of her soft mounds, and began placing kisses around her nipples.

"Honey, I spoil you too much," she said, and cradled your face so you were looking into her eyes. "Would you forgive me, please?"

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked at you with a pair of adorable bright eyes. Now she was the one who was cheating; she used her natural charms to manipulate you.

You narrowed your eyes.

"Only if you fill me with kisses."

She raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to get cheesy?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?"

She rolled her eyes and dutifully placed kisses on every corner of your face, and you found yourself smiling like a fool. Maybe you were a little too spoiled by her.

"Forgiven," you said when she finished, with a little smile.

"Uh huh, now put me down," she patted you on the back twice. "You know I have work to do."

You took her off the wall and let her get off you. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she carefully lowered herself to her knees in front of your cock, still quite smeared on the tip by your own cum. Haewon then took it by the base and the first thing she did was take your tip into her mouth to clean it with gentle sucks.

"Mmm…" She pulled you out of her mouth and placed kisses around your tip. "I hope those balls can give me at least two more."

"Try your luck and see what you find, Haessal."

Haewon stuck her tongue out and planted it under your cock. With a slow head movement she licked upwards, and in the same motion she took half of your shaft into her mouth. You let out a gasp and crossed your hands behind your back. She gave a small moan, as she took you in and out of her mouth.

You took one hand from behind your back and brought it to her cheek to rub it with your thumb; then you placed it on her head, and stroked her hair as she took a couple more inches and sucked more and more hungrily.

She brought one hand to your thigh, and left the other around the base of your cock. Her head pumps became faster, and her suck sounds louder and sloppy. Haewon wasn't able to take you completely inside her mouth, but she sucked what she could so well that it wasn't even missed. She wasn't as prodigious as Rei or Yoon, but she was very good.

Every few seconds she would pull you out of her mouth for air and lick your cock, up the sides, around your tip and also down to your balls to kiss them while she masturbated you with her hand.

After a couple of minutes of messy blowjob, Haewon decided to finish you off quickly. Your cock was slippery, with a thick layer of saliva on top of it which she used to add her hand and move it in combination with her mouth. You gasped, already noticing the consequences on your body. Then she looked into your eyes, expectantly, and used a trick that always worked: she spread her knees and arched her back, so that you could see her magnificent ass raised. That was an instant nut for you.

“You motherfu…” you growled, and gritted your teeth the moment you started shooting a load into her warm mouth. Your hand on the back of her head.

Haewon removed her hand from your shaft and placed them both on the shower floor, now using only her mouth to drain your cock at a slow, sensual pace. You noticed how she swallowed every drop of it, while she let out soft moans of pleasure and slurped every inch of your shaft available to her.

She finally took you out of her mouth, and when you saw your cock, you noticed it was clean and shiny. Haewon caught her breath and filled it with kisses, then she looked at you.

"Delicious as always," she said, and you didn't need to see her tongue to know that your load was probably already all in her stomach. "But there is still a hole to fill…"

You, still shaken by your recent orgasm and with your cock sensitive, looked at her and offered her your hands. She took them, and stood up with your help.

“And I will,” you stated. "But can we do it outside? We haven't even had a real shower."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Come on, you go first."

She gave you a little push and you ended up under the shower. Luckily the water was warm, but that didn't stop you from almost accidentally swallowing some of it. You didn't say anything, you just lowered your head and let your hair get wet.

Haewon took the soap from behind you and rubbed it all over your body. She did an excellent job, but she refused to accept your help when she reached your most intimate parts, which made it somewhat intrusive. But at that point you didn't care about that. It's not like you haven't touched every part of each other's bodies before and like she doesn't have maternal instincts with you sometimes.

By being ready you returned the favor to her. A perfect excuse to feel her entire body slippery against your hands. Just like she was with you, you were just as intrusive. But of course she didn't care either, on the contrary the only thing you did was turn her even more, and she hurried you so that you could finally go outside.

Finally, when you were both showered, you turned off the faucet and you both went out to dry yourself with the same towel. Haewon finally took off the clips holding her short hair up and took your hand to lead you outside. Rory was still asleep on the couch, which of course made it impossible to use.

"Do you want to use the balcony?" Haewon asked, gesturing towards it.

"Huh? Are you sure?" You raised your eyebrows. "We still have the guest room."

"I don't feel like using a bed, to be honest. So yeah."

"Come on, then."

This time it was you who led the way, with Haewon holded to your hand. You walked to the left, towards the glass door that led to the balcony; it was covered by the blinds, so you first had to roll them up to slide the glass and get out.

The space was relatively small: a table and two black chairs located on the left side, a plant in the corner, and a small stool with an ashtray, a pack of blue Marlboros and a lighter on top, in the opposite corner.

However, the strong point of the balcony was not the space, it was how it was located: not a single building in front, several meters high, and with a beautiful view of the entire south of Seoul behind the Han River. The perfect place to sit and drink a beer, smoke a cigarette and relax after work.

Or in those cases, to fuck and give a show to the whole city. You had used it a few more times already, once with Chaeyoung and the rest with Jiheon, who always got very horny at the idea that someone could see her being fucked.

"Wah, I never get tired of this view," Haewon said, and she went to lean on the railing. The wind blew against her face, and it made her hair flutter.

"And I never get tired of this one," you responded from behind her, staring at her ass.

You pulled out one of the chairs and positioned it right in the middle of the balcony, facing forward. You sat on it.

Haewon looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your flaccid cock. She smiled and bent her upper body down, her hands resting on the railing. That left her ass inches from your face.

"How about we bring it back to life?" she asked with a mischievous tone of voice, then she lowered her ass and sat right on top of your cock.

She rested her hands on your knees and started moving her ass back and forth, your cock being kneaded between her butt cheeks. That didn't take long to make you hard, and Haewon let a satisfied moan escape from her as she felt you firm against her skin.

Even though she already had the job done she didn't stop; she continued with even more energetic, passionate movements. You placed your hands on her waist, feeling her athletic abdomen from the front with your fingertips.

"A little dry, don't you think?" you asked, biting your lip as you grabbed her butt cheek.

Haewon looked at you over her shoulder.

"I have the solution for that," she replied. "But I don't think the wind is going to help."

Haewon then spit on her hand and wrapped it around your cock to rub it just a few times, enough to cover it with a layer of saliva that served as lubricant for the assjob she began to give you.

You let out a gasp, watching as your cock was the filling of a firm meat sandwich. You ran your hands up Haewon's back, then over her shoulders and down her sturdy arms. Then you reached around her body, grabbed both of her tits and kneaded them while she moved her ass in wide, slow circles.

She moaned and removed her hands from your knees, so that the full weight of her ass was crushing your cock against your abdomen. Then she leaned her body back, and she put her hand on the back of your neck to kiss you, continuing to rub your shaft between her buttocks.

"You don't want my thighs?" she murmured between kisses. "I wouldn't want you to cum like this; it would be a waste."

"I thought you wanted it inside your ass," you replied, and reached down with one hand just to reach her pussy and subtly touch her clit.

"I do want it," she raised her ass and reached for your cock again, but this time she spread her thighs a little to put it between them. "But since we don't have lubricant available, we will have to use our natural resources."

Well, that night your balls would end up like a pair of dry chestnuts. You wish you had prepared better, but Haewon was as unpredictable as a dice roll.

Now, you couldn't complain in the slightest. Receiving a thighjob from her was like going up to heaven, being touched by an angel, and coming back down to earth on a cloud. She squeezed her thighs on either side of your cock, but she didn't consider it enough, so she crossed one leg over the other.

"And so you expect me to last until I fuck your ass?" you gasped, and pursed your lips at the stupidly overwhelming pleasure of having that pair of strong thighs crushing your cock.

Haewon placed a couple of kisses on your jaw and caressed the back of your neck.

"I don't expect you to last," she replied, purposely tensing her thighs to further suffocate your cock. "I intend to use your cum as lubricant for my ass."

Before you could protest she leaned forward again and grabbed onto your thighs to move up and down, so slowly that it felt like your cock was going in and out of a rolling mill. That's when you noticed how really athletic that girl was, since she only had one foot on the floor while she worked her triceps to go up and down.

"Oh my god yes," you gasped, clinging to her waist. "Use me as a gym."

Haewon giggled and nudged your thigh.

"Maybe another day I'll use you for my squats," she said, and she started moving faster.

You let out a louder moan, closed your eyes and let your head fall back. There was no possible way not to feel removed from the physical plane when Haewon gave you a thighjob as tight and stifling as that. At that moment you could say with complete certainty that you'd rather fuck her thighs than her pussy, but Haewon was such a complete package that an opinion like that changed from one day to the next.

She stopped just for a second and spit on your cock. Saliva fell on your tip, hot and thick, and spread over the rest of your shaft as Haewon's thighs went up and down.

You opened your eyes and straightened your head. Her sexy back was your focus for a few long seconds, but then you looked down at her ass. You couldn't just sit still while that woman melted you, so you sucked on your ring and middle fingers and brought them to her butthole.

Haewon was startled, but then moaned when she felt your fingers rub at first and then penetrate a few inches into her tight butthole. When half of your fingers were inside her you simply left your wrist still, so that she could fuck her own ass at the same time that she stroked your cock with her thighs.

Soon your moans were joined by Haewon’s, who in a moment turned to look at you and asked you with a nod to take the rest of the length of your fingers inside her. So you did, raising your wrist so that your fingers were buried knuckle-deep inside her butthole.

Now Haewon, with a new motivation to up the gear, sacrificed some pressure around your cock just to gain speed. You hardly noticed any difference, since you were so close that just that slight friction on both sides was enough to take you down the hill.

Your fingers went comfortably in and out of Haewon's butthole, who in search of more pleasure moved as fast as her own arms would allow her. Unfortunately for her, the work her thighs were doing quickly paid off, and with a loud growl you exploded between them.

She realized that you were in the throes of an orgasm, but she didn't seem to care; she continued to move painfully fast as your fingers continued to act as her personal dildo.

"H-hey… stop!" you growled, and gave her a careless spank while you were still shooting cum streams onto the air.

Haewon screeched and finally stopped. She turned to look at you with her brow furrowed. She then looked down, realizing that her thighs and your cock were covered in cum.

"Oops," she said with a giggle.

"Oops my ass. Come here."

You took your fingers out from inside her butthole and with the same hand you pushed her forward. Haewon fell to her knees on the wooden floor, and automatically bent her back to make a perfect arch and rest her hands on it.

With her ass raised and presented to you, you stood up, pushed the chair behind you with your foot, and knelt behind her. Your cock was still hard and soaked in your own fluids; you took it with one hand, and as painful as it seemed at first, you buried it inside Haewon's butthole.

She moaned, but you let out a pained groan.

"I hope you're on my damn side when we play Monopoly," you said thinly, as your cock easily slid into her.

Just like Haewon wanted it, your cum served as a makeshift lubricant. It felt strange, but it fulfilled its function perfectly. With rather a minuscule effort your cock was completely inside.

"It's a game of chance, darling, I don't think I can do much about it," she replied, her head falling between her shoulders.

You placed a hand on her ass and gave her butt cheek a gentle squeeze. Then you started pumping your hips slowly. Your cock was still sensitive, so you felt more pain than pleasure at first.

"Give me squares, skip turns, I don't know."

She leaned on her forearms to turn her head and look at you, her mouth slightly open and her brow furrowed.

"And you don't want me to rob the bank too?" she raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged, and stopped moving.

"I mean, if you can."

"No, I can't! The girls would be upset!"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

"How boring."

Neither of you two opened your mouths again to do anything other than moan, since you had returned to what was really important.

The pain soon disappeared, but you still gave her slow pumps just to test how well you could move in and out of her. Haewon was already more than well trained for that practice, and especially for you, so it didn't take long for her ass to adapt to you.

Seconds later you started pumping faster and faster. Inevitably your hands went to her ass, which jiggled with each collision of your pelvis. Haewon stared ahead, between loud moans that went away with the wind as soon as they came out.

Inevitably your hands went to her ass, where you gripped each of her butt cheeks with your fingers. You wanted to destroy her, fuck her as hard as you did in her shower. But the fatigue in your body, accumulated after that long day, prevented you from being as intense as always.

Still, neither of you needed excessive aggressiveness to feel good while you were fucking. Haewon, despite being somewhat explosive at times, never demanded to be fucked hard and dirty all the time; it was enough for her that you used your cock well, and that was that.

Luckily that last thing was something you knew how to do very well, even when your hips and balls demanded a more than well-deserved rest.

Trying not to leave all the work to your hips, you planted your feet on the floor and rose above Haewon's ass. This way you used only your legs while moving up and down as fast as you could, which wasn't too much, but it was enough for her to cum after a minute.

"I'm not done with you yet, Haessal," you gasped, and rested a hand on one of her shoulders as she squealed in pleasure. "Come on, give me another one."

With your free hand you reached under her body to find her pussy. When you reached between her legs your fingers went straight to her clitoris, rubbing it in circles while you fucked her through her orgasm. Haewon responded with a squirm that made her press her cheek against the floor.

Haewon's face was ruby ​​red, as it always was when she was subjected to high levels of pleasure. She was downright adorable, as her round face and cheeks made her look like a fresh tomato. But damn that arched back, that perfect ass up and being fucked, and those sensual moans were hot.

There came a point where your legs also began to weaken, and the sweat began to run down your temples. Sometimes you concentrated to not cum and last longer, but this time you concentrated to do exactly the opposite. Luckily it wasn't too difficult for you; it was enough for Haewon to cum once more for you to do it right after.

You both exploded between moans. You stopped rubbing her pussy and planted your knees on the floor again, as you shot a few spurts of cum into her tight ass. Haewon on the other hand grabbed her own head with both hands, pulling strands of her short hair as she let out whimpers.

You didn't cum as much as you did an hour ago, but enough so that at the moment you came out of her, a small waterfall of thick white liquid spilled out of her dilated butthole and fell to the dark wooden floor.

"Aight, enough for today," you said between labored breaths, and fell backwards on your ass.

"It's not like I'm in the mood for more, you fool," she replied softly, and straightened up to get on her knees. "You've squeezed me out for today."

You let out a laugh.

"I squeezed you out?" you asked in disbelief. "I feel like my dick is going to fall off."

"Oh come on, it was only four times," she supported herself with her hands and with an arduous effort managed to stand up.

“Five,” you corrected.

Haewon whipped around to look at you.

"So you did fuck Sullyoonie earlier, huh?"

You sighed and didn't say anything, you just shrugged since you didn't consider it respectful to admit those things openly.

She clapped her hands and pointed at you.

"I knew it!"

"Of course you knew," you nodded, also standing up as you looked at the mess you had left out there.

"Where it was?" she asked, and took a step forward. "A service room?"

"An empty conference room," you answered without looking at her, more worried about how you would clean everything than anything else. "Now shut up and stay still while I find something to clean up the mess."

You walked inside the house and ran past the front of the hallway to avoid Bae or Sully seeing you. You reached the kitchen and quickly grabbed the roll of towel, under the watchful eye of Rory, who was now sitting on a counter.

"I hope you haven't seen any of that abomination, darling."

After giving the kitten a kiss you returned to the balcony. Haewon looked towards the city, with her arms crossed and leaned on the railing. When she noticed your presence she turned around and leaned on her lower back.

"I see why Sully's cheeks were redder than normal," she said. "She's been kinky lately."

You remained silent and cut several pieces of towel to leave them on the cum stains in different parts of the balcony. Even the chair was stained in places. When they absorbed the liquid, you picked them all up one by one and rolled them into balls.

"You're not going to clean me up or what?"

"Nope, you'll do it yourself while I look for the spray mop."

You didn't let her protest, you simply stood up and left the roll of towel in her arms to go back inside the apartment.

When you went to pass in front of the hallway of the rooms your brain had gone on autopilot, so when the door to your room opened at the end of the corridor you didn't even have time to hide.

Bae, with a towel on her arm, in her panties and in a crop top shirt, immediately fixed her gaze on you. You stood paralyzed, also looking at her and her thin body full of hot curves. She scrutinized you, especially your lower part.

"Uh…" she looked at the floor, and then at the door to her left, which was the guest room.

The risk of her seeing you had completely slipped your mind. It was your house, and you were more than used to all the girls who went there seeing you naked. But Bae had never done it. It had to be, of course, in an uncomfortable situation.

"Nice body," you said, since it was the first thing that came to mind.

Bae looked at you again; she stayed quiet for a few seconds while she detailed you.

"You too."

You both nodded slowly, and then you looked towards the kitchen.

"Well… I'll get a mop," you pointed with your thumb.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded again, and opened the door to the guest room. "I… I'll go get dressed so we can play."

"Sure," you nodded again, and looked at the floor.

You both looked at each other for a few more seconds until each of you continued on your respective path. Then you found yourself with hot cheeks.

Bae was stupidly hot, with a body that looked like it was sculpted by hammer and chisel. But you were forced to get certain images of her out of your head so as not to get horny again.

Still embarrassed, you went to the laundry room and took out the spray mop to return to the balcony. Haewon had already cleaned herself, and she had gathered all the towel balls in a corner to throw them away later.

"I can't believe you let her see you," Haewon giggled as you moped the floor.

You shrugged as you mopped where the chair used to be. That particular floor was always a pain to clean, and this time was no exception.

"Bad timing I guess."

"Do you want me to go get the trash can?"

"No, we can throw the towel over the railing."

"I just don't want anyone to see me!"

You looked up at her and raised an eyebrow, as if wanting to say 'Really?'

"Ugh, right away."

Haewon left you alone for a moment, but returned seconds later with the trash can and an extra mop. Between the two of you, you continued cleaning the balcony and, after about 10 minutes, you left it sparkling as if nothing had happened.

By that point the night was already cold as hell, so you and Haewon went inside and closed the door to the balcony. You went to your room, where you found Sully sitting in the middle of the bed while she watched a video of her on her iPad. She had on her lavender pajama set, and was brushing her hair with Helios asleep next to her.

When she noticed that you came in naked, she looked up.

"Oh, are you done?" she asked, and looked back at her iPad.

"Thank god yes," you gave Haewon a look and turned around to enter through the door that was just at the entrance to the room, which led to the master wardrobe.

"Were you that hard on him?" you heard Sullyoon ask Haewon, while you looked for your clothes.

You pulled out your underwear, a black Celtics tracksuit and a white Puma sweater.

"I wouldn't say that," Haewon replied. "It's not like I forced him."

That wasn't entirely true. You frowned as you remembered how she had manipulated you with the charms you were always weak to. She had slowly dragged you into her web, and although you fell straight, it was all orchestrated by her and her desires.

When you got dressed, you went out and found Haewon already dressed too, in short pajama shorts and a simple t-shirt. She was sitting next to Sully as she caressed the back of the dozing Helios, who was between the two of them.

"Well? Shall we play or what?"

"Yeah!" the two said in unison.

That night's game was a real war.

Sully had been the least of your problems. If you and that girl acted as a team even without meaning to, when the situation called for it you were unstoppable. You bought properties from each other all the time and then exchanged them so you could build.

But Haewon had cared little about your request, and that whole game had been based on her and Bae trying to screw you over.

Bae didn't care about winning, she just wanted to be as annoying as possible to the three of you. On the other hand, Haewon was petty as well as visionary. She made you sweat towards the end of the game, but the winner ended up being Sullyoon, for the simple fact of having invested in all the orange properties at the beginning of the game.

After playing the Monopoly game, the four of you went to the balcony wrapped up warmly and spent the time just eating snacks and chatting. It was around two in the morning when you went back inside to sleep. Haewon and Sully slept with you, while Bae slept in the guest room.

You were usually never the first to wake up; someone was always ahead of you. But for some time now you had gotten into the habit of getting up no later than 9 in the morning. It had happened for several reasons: one of them was to feel like you were making better use of the day, another was to fix your sleeping schedule in general, but the most important thing was to be able to give food to the cats when it was time.

That day you had woken up at 8:30 in the morning. Sully was on your left, and on hers was Haewon, on the side of the bed closest to the window. Both still fast asleep.

Careful not to disturb Sully, you slid out of the blanket and stood up with the phone in your hand; you left it on the floating shelf in front of the bed, which spanned the entire wall to the corner. Then you went to the bathroom, washed your face and teeth, and after taking your phone back, you left the room.

As soon as you crossed the hallway, Helios got off the couch and greeted you with a meow as he approached. Rory came out from behind the kitchen island and jumped onto it to sit, staring at you in complete silence.

"Good morning, my loves," you greeted in a tiny voice, as Helios rubbed his head against your calf. You bent down to pet his back, and he meowed again. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming."

You quickly walked to open all the blinds, so that the apartment was filled with beautiful natural light. Then you went to the kitchen, Helios following close behind. Rory got off the island and stood next to you as you picked up each of their plates from the floor. You put them on a counter and went to the corner of the kitchen, where the huge bag of cat kibble was with a scoop inside. You served a considerable amount on each plate, and amidst desperate meows you put the plates in their places for them to eat.

Their water bowl was still half full, so you didn't consider it necessary to pour more. Instead, after grinding the beans, you set about making your everyday cup of espresso. While it was being done, you went straight to get a box of cereal and a carton of milk for breakfast.

By the time the espresso was ready you had already poured yourself the cereal, so you took the cup with the coffee, put two teaspoons of sugar in it and took it along with the bowl of cereal to the dining table.

Not even five minutes passed when you heard a door open, and then another, probably the bathroom in the hallway. It couldn't be Haewon or Sully; they always used the bedroom bathroom. That only left one option.

After a while you heard the door open again, and seconds later Bae came out of the hallway.

Thank goodness you had already finished a good part of the cereal, because it would have spilled out of your mouth when you saw Bae, again in panties and a crop top shirt. Just like she was in your awkward encounter last night.

"Good morning!" she said, as she raised her arms to stretch them, an action with which she revealed more inches of her perfect, slim torso. You could almost see what was under that shirt, but she lowered her arms immediately.

"Good… morning," you replied, and took a sip of your espresso while between small glances you admired her long legs and her small waist.

"Wah, I really slept deliciously."

She sat next to you, in the chair facing the end of the table, legs crossed in the most attractive way she could choose.

"Yeah, that room is pretty comfortable," you nodded, and took another spoonful of cereal, one of the last. "What are you doing awake this early?"

"Well…" she rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hand. "It just happened, why?"

"You never get up early."

"But this time it happened, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shrugged. "It's just weird. Are you up to something or what?"

Bae was silent for a few seconds while her gaze wandered around the table, in the end she pursed her lips and shrugged.

"In short, you're up to something," you confirmed, and grabbed the cup and the empty bowl to stand up. You went to the dishwasher. "Do you want me to make you something for breakfast? There's cereal, eggs, bread…"

There was no response from her while you were washing the dishes, but you did hear the chair move back. By the time you looked over your shoulder, Bae had already hugged you from behind and pressed herself against you.

You wrinkled your brow, and looked into her eyes with your hands still full of soap.

"May I know what you are doing?"

Bae squeezed you into her arms, and pressed one of her knees to your side. She rested her chin on your shoulder and leaned closer to your ear.

"Oppa…" she lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. "Do you think I have a nice body?"

That's where the shots were going, then. You should have guessed. But in the mornings you were not at your full brain capacity.

"What's that question about?" you looked away, as you now washed the bowl and spoon.

"You seemed delighted about it last night."

She planted a hand on your abdomen, caressing it gently up and down.

"I don't know what you're talking about, honestly."

You left the sponge in it’s place and removed the soap from the dishes with plenty of water.

"No? You were almost drooling…" she whispered. "You fucked me like four times with your eyes."

You couldn't help but let out a sly smile as you set the clean dishes aside. Then you left your hands rested on the edge of the dishwasher.

"I wasn't the only one, as I remember."

"Because you're hot, oppa," she replied with a giggle, and then lowered her hand to rest on your bulge. "And your cock looked… delicious."

Bae began to knead your cock gently, slow and deep movements. You held your breath for a moment, and resisted the urge to turn around and put your hands on her. You wanted to see how far she would go.

"If you wanted to taste it you just had to say so last night," you said, and looked down. Your cock was already getting hard thanks to her hand.

Bae laughed.

"And share you with those two?" Of course not," she said. "If I'm going to taste you for the first time, I have to do it alone."

Bae stopped moving her hand to put it between your sweatpants and boxers. She found yourself with your already hard cock, which she wrapped with her hand and then lowered it to your balls as well.

"Fuck, I don't think all that will fit inside me…" she murmured against your neck, where she placed soft, wet kisses. "My pussy is too tight."

"Oh my god…" you gasped, and let your head fall to the side to give Bae free rein on that side of your neck.

She didn't mince words and pulled down your bottoms to free your cock immediately. Then she stroked it slowly, while she used her other hand to rub your abdomen under your sweater.

Unable to resist anymore you slowly turned around and came face to face with her. You stared into each other's eyes, Bae still with her hand stroking your cock. Then you put your arm around her slender body, pressed her against you, and kissed her.

The way that girl kissed immediately reminded you of Sumin: just as insecure at first, but with a gradual increase in hunger as the seconds passed that led to her attacking your mouth with her tongue, which by the way you could notice that moved in a prodigious way.

The kiss lasted for a few long seconds in which she continued to move her hand up and down your cock, slowly until your precum began to leak between her fingers. You, for your part, had your hand clinging to the side of her torso, which you then moved to caress her back and lowered it again to grab her ass.

That made Bae let out a small moan against your lips and pull away from them. She then looked into your eyes once more, and with her gaze still on them, she fell to her knees with your cock right between her eyebrows.

"I've done this like only once in my life," she said, as she wrapped her fingers around your base. "So don't scold me."

"I'm not going to scold you, Jinsol," you replied. "You know how to use that tongue very well. Just use it and it will be fine."

Bae nodded slowly and stared at the piece of meat in front of her eyes. She looked at it for a few brief moments, as if wanting to decide where to start. She finally decided to comply with your statements, and she planted her tongue on the underside of your cock to lick it up. You gasped and rested your hands on the edge of the dishwasher behind you, while Bae swirled her tongue in slow circles around your tip.

“Fuck, like that…” you pursed your lips. "But- oh fuck…"

Before you could finish your sentence, Bae beat you to it, and fulfilled exactly the suggestion you were about to make: she took you inside her mouth. It was just the tip, but she sucked it gently while she gave it quick licks.

After a few seconds she worked up the courage to take a few more inches and begin pumping her head in calm iterations. She looked into your eyes frequently, making sure you were enjoying every little wiggle of her tongue. Which you certainly did, since such control was incredible.

Once Bae was sure she was doing a good job she relaxed and let herself go. Decision more than beneficial for you, since now she was taking her mouth further and further away, and to your genuine surprise, almost to her throat.

"What the fuck," you moaned, and your forehead wrinkled in pleasure. "How…?"

You didn't even bother trying to find an explanation. Some people were simply born with talent. Apparently Bae knew how to do that just because, and without any effort.

She gave you a few long, slow pumps and pulled you out of her mouth with a slurp at your tip.

"You like it like that?" she asked, moving her hand on your saliva-soaked cock. "I can go faster if you want."

“Oh god no,” you shook your head. "That's perfect," you nodded for her to continue.

Bae then took you into her mouth again and this time she prolonged her gentle, deep blowjob for an incredible two minutes in which you were constantly with your toes curled and your mouth gaping. You would have loved to cum inside her mouth, but you had other priorities right now.

"Alright, get up," you ordered between gasps.

She obeyed you immediately, and as soon as she stood in front of you, you wrapped your arms around her small waist and kissed her again. This time you took complete control, invading her mouth with your tongue while your hands roamed every corner of her tight body. You focused your attention on her lower back and her waist, places you constantly clung to because of how stupidly good they felt under your fingers.

Bae brought her hand back to your cock to try to rub it again, but you stopped her and grabbed both of her arms so she wrapped them around your neck. Then you had free rein to take your hand between her legs and rub her pussy over her bluish panties, which you noticed were wet already.

She moaned against your lips and gripped her fingers in your hair, as she rubbed her thigh against your balls. You then put your hand inside her panties to reach her pussy, which was extremely soft to the touch, and rubbed her clitoris in slow circles.

You separated from her lips and focused now on her long neck, whose pretty skin you filled with wet kisses. Bae let out an adorable, soft moan close to your ear, as you ran your fingers up and down between her folds, which were starting to get soaked.

“Oppa, fuck me already…” she moaned into your ear. "Please."

The only reason you decided not to continue teasing her was because you were almost as in need of it as she was. And how not to be, with that tight and soft body in your arms.

You took a few steps forward with her until you had her lean against the island counter, then you grabbed her waist with your hands and made her sit in the exact same place where last night you had eaten Haewon.

Not willing to waste time you brought your hands to the hem of Bae's panties and quickly slid them off her pretty pale legs. She then spread them wide open, revealing her pretty glistening pussy to you as she stared into your eyes.

You positioned yourself between her legs, and took your cock in your hand to rub the tip of it between her folds. You made a gesture to get inside, but she put a hand on your abdomen.

"Can I do it myself?" she asked, and she bit her lip pointing at your cock.

"Go on then," you nodded.

Bae leaned back, rested her left elbow on the marble surface and took your cock in her hand, rubbing it between her own folds and then bringing it to her entrance, where you gently pushed to insert your tip.

You both let out a small moan, as your cock slowly but surely made its way between her folds. And damn, she wasn't lying when she said she was too tight. For a moment you thought you were going to get stuck halfway, but with a little patience and saliva—literally—you were able to bury every inch of your cock inside that stifling space.

"It looks like every inch did fit inside you…" you smiled, and put your hands behind her knees as you gave her a moment to get used to your thickness.

"It seems so, yeah," she responded between agitated gasps. "But I feel like you're going to tear my cervix, oh my god."

You chuckled, and gripped your fingers on her thighs.

"You'll get used to it."

With that said you began to move back and forth, as slowly as you could at first while giving the tight walls of Bae's pussy time to stretch around your throbbing cock. It was a long and tortuous few seconds, but in the end the pumps became smooth and easy, enough for you to be able to move freely.

Bae couldn't afford to be loud, and she knew it. That's why her moans were so discreet. But her face, painted with a subtle blush, and her sensual expressions said it all. She laid her back flat on the counter, and covered her mouth so she could let out a few louder squeals she had pent up.

You released one of her thighs and left the palm of your hand on her lower abdomen, where you could feel the tip of your cock slightly bulge her skin with each pump, which became faster and stronger with each second.

From her lower abdomen you moved your hand up, to reach under her small cropped shirt and grab one of her tits; they were tiny, but you felt a pair of small, soft, adorable nipples that you pinched with your fingers.

Bae's thigh tensed and trembled under your left hand fingers. She now had both hands covering her face, her back arched and her toes curled so tightly they were red. And then, after a minute of her pussy being rapidly fucked, she exploded with a louder whimper that she was unable to stifle.

The feeling of having her pussy that tight around your cock reminded you of Haewon's thighjobs. It was suffocating, like it was going to squeeze your cock and crush it like a rubber toy. Even you let out a moan as you carefully fucked her.

Bae removed her hands from her face and brought them behind to grip the edge of the counter. Her face was even redder than before, her bottom lip bitten and her eyes squeezed shut. Her spasms made her back twist, and caused tremors in her thighs.

When her orgasm had passed you pulled out from inside her pussy and laid your cock flat against her abdomen. She leaned on her elbows and looked at you between labored breaths.

"Wanna ride me, cutie?" you asked, and caressed her toned abdomen up and down.

She quickly nodded.

"I'd love to, oppa."

"Then come here."

You took a step back and helped her off the counter. Afterwards, you took her hand and guided her to the other side of the room, towards the couch that, thank God, was completely free to use.

The couch had a square area on its left end that looked more like a small bed. You knelt on top of it and crawled until you turned around and placed your back between the cushions, with your legs extended forward. Bae also climbed onto the couch and straddled you, thighs pressed tightly on either side of your hips.

"Can I take that shirt off?" you asked. "It's been bothering me all damn morning."

Bae pressed her pussy against the back of your cock and very subtly ground her hips. She then nodded and lifted her arms, so that you could immediately remove her shirt and leave her completely naked on top of you.

"And me? Can I take that dumb sweater off or what?" she asked, and gave it a couple of tugs.

"It's one of my favorites, have some respect," you replied, and then raised your arms too.

She immediately took your sweater off and tossed it next to her shirt. Her hands planted themselves on your chest, which she slowly rubbed before diving back into your neck with kisses and bites.

Now that you two were completely naked, the rubbing between your bodies and the touching became a sensation as magnificent as fucking. You wrapped both arms around her slim waist and pressed her body against yours, your fingers gripping her flesh firmly. Meanwhile one of Bae's hands slid between your bodies until she reached your cock, which she stroked at the same time she rubbed it with her pussy.

She kept kissing your neck, and she soon focused on your collarbone. She then raised her hips, and straightened your cock to completely impale herself on it again. You let out a moan, but Bae just bit her lip, made you look at her and then kissed you before moving her hips up and down.

Your hands immediately went to her waist and a few seconds later they went down to her ass; Bae's went to your neck, before completely surrounding it with her arms and deepening the kiss. You were the only one moaning against the other's lips, which immediately made you realize that her goal was for you to enjoy it more than her.

She hugged your head and started moving her hips faster, with a skill and smoothness that left you surprised. That girl knew what she was doing, taking your cock all the way in and out of her, with movements that could have easily caused you to unintentionally pull out of her. But hell no, the control she had over her lower body was impressive.

You soon found yourself stunned. The girl you least expected turned out to be the one who rode cock the best of absolutely everyone. That, combined with her tight, toned, curvy body, her tight pussy, her cute round ass, and the sexy changes in her countenance made her a complete menace of a woman.

You couldn't help but moan again and again against her lips, until she had no choice but to break away from the kiss, just to stare at you while you melted with pleasure.

"Do you like the way I ride you, oppa?" she asked, with a cute and innocent tone.

You squeezed both of her buttocks hard and couldn't help but give one of them a little spank out of pure instinct. Then you sank slightly into her couch so that your face was level with her small tits.

"I fucking love it, fuck," you moaned, and put your hands on her back so she could bring her tits closer to your mouth. You took a nipple inside and sucked and licked it.

"Oh yeah?" She let a small moan escape her as you ate her small but delicious tits. "How much?"

"No one has ever ridden me as good as you right now," you gasped, and closed your eyes before letting your head fall back, your mouth half open in an O and your brow furrowed.

“Then fill my tight pussy oppa…” she rubbed your hair, and as if it were possible, she moved her hips even faster and harder. "But hurry up… who knows when those two will wake up."

You didn't even need her to rush you. You were already dangerously close to cumming from the moment she started moving her hips. It took less than a minute for you to put your arms around her waist again in a hug, and then explode inside that dangerous prison called pussy that she had.

Rarely did someone make you moan as uncontrollably as Bae did in that moment. She even had to cover your mouth as she moved her hips slower and felt you shoot your entire immense thick load inside her.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "You came a lot, oppa. And it feels so warm and nice…"

She removed her hand from your mouth and kissed you again. Meanwhile, you again held on to her ass as she slowed down to a complete stop. You two were tasting each other's mouths for a few long seconds, until she raised her hips to take out your cock. The only thing you could feel was the abundant amount of cum falling into your abdomen.

"Do you want a clean?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck, do whatever you want," you sighed, eyes still closed.

Bae got off you and knelt next to you with her ass raised. She brought her face close to your abdomen and didn't hesitate for a second to lick the pool of white liquid from end to end. You opened your eyes and watched in silence as she collected every drop of it with her tongue and swallowed it.

"Since when…?" you wrinkled your forehead. "God, nevermind."

When she finished cleaning your abdomen she then took your cock and repeated the same process, until it was clean and shiny. She then sat back on her heels and looked at you with heavy breathing.

"Can you make me some fried eggs and sausages?" she asked, and tilted her head.

You couldn't help but burst out laughing. That girl was quite a specimen.

"Aha, but get dressed and go get the girls up. I have to get you back a little before 2 because I have to turn on stream early."

"And why don't you do it at night like always?"

"Because I'll meet you at Korea University. Come on, hurry up."

Bae nodded and stood up. You both dressed quickly, and you started making breakfast for all of them while Bae went to wake them up. You ended up taking them at 1 in the afternoon. By the time you got back home, you did your respective 4-5 hour stream and got ready to go to the campus where the girls would be performing that day—which was admittedly quite far from your house.

But you wanted to see your favorite femboy. And on top of that, you could see those tripleS girls up close. Three birds with one stone.

-----------------------------

As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[watchmegetobsessed]

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says. 

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ after the break up (prt 2)

˚ · . kenma kozume, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi & atsumu miya (prt 1.)

KENMA KOZUME — he feels really stupid. kenma does a lot after the breakup in order to distract himself. he buys more games, staying up until it's almost dawn. all of his attention goes into his video games and other devices that he completely stops taking care of himself subconsciously. it's only when he's lost almost 10 pounds is when he realizes how neglected he's become. it happened so fast it confuses him. why didn't you remind him to eat? or shower? oh.. right, it's because you broke up with him in the first place. still, he tries to forget. it's one night playing a game when he's dissociating randomly thinking about you does it all hit.

Super Mario Bro's plays in the background of his room. for once, his fingers are still but his eyes are locked on the pixilated screen in front of him. his eyes are red and dialted due to the bright screen contrasting to the dark dead of night. this game was very expensive, vintage and one of a kind—yet he's subconsciously stuck thinking about you.

did you know he thought about you so frequently? did you think the same of him? he drops the console, fishing his phone out from below him. his fingers tap on the keyboard, searching up your name into his contacts. he notices the last time you texted him was over a month ago. oh–, right. you broke up with him. right. kenma drops his phone back down, laying his face down into the same giant kirby plushie you bought him a long time ago.

a soft sniffle escapes through the thick material, mixing in with the almost taunting upbeat cartoon music.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — your breakup was done on good terms. he was moving to the U.S., you were staying in Japan. neither of you knew the relationship wouldn't withstand such a long distance relationship so the relationship came to an end. the two of you still call and text over random things, but it's not like how things were before. time passes, and the two of you have less and less contact. iwaizumi is doing his weekly stalking of your Instagram when he realizes you've posted a photo of yourself.. but you aren't alone.

iwaizumi sighs with content when he's finally allowed to sit down, his legs sore from harsh muscle training. as always, he checks his phone. once he's finished going through his messages, ignoring almost everyone except his mom, he comes across your contact. the last you spoke with him was almost a year ago. he frowns, he wishes the two of you kept in contact, but you both were just so busy.

curiously, he indulges in his guilty pleasure and opens up instagram. as if on autopilot, he searches for your online handle. you both follow each other, but of course, never speak. he mindlessly scrolls through your highlights and posts, ending up on your most recent one. it's you. his heart flutters at the sight of you once more. even through a screen, you're still as beautiful as always. you're glowing and radiant as always.

his childish smile soon disappears when he realizes someone has their arm wrapped around you. a guy. a guy who is looking at you with the same loving look iwaizumi would give you long, long, ago. iwaizumi uninstalls the app shortly afterwards.

TSUKISHIMA KEI — he avoids you. he pretends you don't exist altogether. his heart cringes whenever he hears you around, regretting immensely when the two of you arranged your classes together in the previous year. it's childish. no, he's childish. especially because the breakup was more of his fault. still, he hides the fact that his heart is broken. he treats you like everybody else with such hate and bitterness, and only realizes how stupid he's being when it's too late.

"hey kei." you say, walking along aside the tall blonde. "do you want to work on the project together? sensei said that–," "i don't want to work with you." he says coldly. tsukishima doesn't even look to acknowledge you, staring straight forward as he walks. "o-oh, well i just y'know—" you stutter embarrassingly, "i just thought that because—" tsukishima finally stops in his tracks, swiftly turning to you, looking at you through clouded lenses.

"why do you keep on pestering me." his tone leaves you shocked. you can't even think of words to say, only able to let out incoherent stutters and mumbles. "all you do is stutter, it's annoying." tsukishima says nonchalantly, still looking at you with distain.

that seems to shut you up for now. tsukishima is relived when you do, if you talked to him anymore he probably would've accidentally spilled how he missed you. his relief is short lived when he sees the tears roll down your face and out of embarrassment, you quickly walk away from him. he's left standing still, gazing down at the floor. heart heavy and regretting.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he thinks he's alright but he doesn't realize he's distraught. he continues on with his life like normal, seemingly at peace and happy with whatever he's doing. but, he does have to admit, he's been feeling a bit more.. confused? more like agitated. outside of his calm demeanor to untrained eyes, he seems perfectly normal. but, to those who are close with them, they can see what's actually going on in that seemingly perfect head of his.

hazel eyes watch closely as you walk past. ushijima awaits for you to come up to him like normal, talk to him and pester him with a million questions once more. he hated when you pestered him, he wished you were more quiet and reserved... or did he? he's not sure. because now you are walking away from him, not saying a single word. hell, you barely acknowledge his presence. how do you not? he's everything you said catches your eye, tall and muscular build, with a handsome perfect face.

"y/l/n." he rumbles out. the boom of his voice finally catches your attention, finally spinning around to acknowledge him. you seem defensive, like a cornered cat, a single eyebrow quirking up at his call. "..ushijima-san?" his heart, for some reason, sinks into his gut with the formality use of his name. what happened to toshi? for once, his words are stuck in his throat and he struggles to come up with something to say.

seeing that he's yet to say anything, you hurry out of his presence, trying to be released from the gaze of the man you are forbidden to love. meanwhile, ushijima is realizing for the first time, that maybe he lost someone who he isn't fine with leaving.

MIYA ATSUMU — he's like a pitiful dog. he plays off the break up like it's nothing, even to your face, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath and walked away. despite the two of you dating for a year, going through so many things together, hell, he even lost his virginity to you, but he still acts like it was nothing.. but everyone can tell it's not. much to his annoyance, even his twin brother tells him to take it easy following the break up. but he's fine. it was nothing. he definitely doesn't search for you in the crowd during his games, nor does he get the random pang of forgetfullness after school as if he should be waiting for you. he's fine.

a girl comes up to atsumu after his game, batting her long eyelashes and pouting her lips. "can i get your number?" she asks, making her voice as smooth as possible. atsumu blinks at her with a blank face before turning his back to her, ignoring her entirely. he ignores her whines and curses of embarrassment, his eyes scanning the emptying crowd.

"shes not here, 'tsumu." he hears a familiar voice say. atsumu snaps his head back to the direction of the voice, seeing osamu standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes low and unamused. atsumu scoffs at his brother, "yah i know." the two of them wait in silence, but for what? what is he waiting for? suddenly, his ears perk up at a familar body frame, eyes darting to the source only to be severally disappointed with the sight of a person who looks like you, but isn't you.

"let's go home, 'tsumu." osamu says, walking past the blonde haired man. atsumu waits a couple more seconds, taking another quick scan of the crowd before he's hestiantly following his brother, shoulders low and eyes to the ground.

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[smoothies-are-cool]

scott street

boyfriend! chris sturniolo x reader

summary: subscribers are convinced chris and his girlfriend broke up so they start making sad edits.

warnings: swearing, kissing, pet names (baby, ma, mama), mentions of y/n.

a/n: randomly got this idea, enjoy and please please read the author’s note at the end !! <3

november 1, 2020

halloween vlog with mom and y/n

“okay so, we have another special guest for todays video. chris’ girlfriend y/n!” nick exclaims as chris’ hand wraps around y/n from behind and rests on her stomach. y/n just smiles and waves at the camera.

february 12, 2021

guess the triplet by zoomed in pictures !!!

“chris wants to see if y/n can get some right so she’s gonna just go for fun.” matt explains as y/n moves to sit in front of the camera. chris stands behind her.

“alright.” nick says, turning his phone around to show a picture of someone’s hair. y/n squints her eyes to try and see the picture.

after a few seconds she giggles. “matt.”

“correct. next one.” nick smiles, swiping to the next picture.

the next picture showed an arm but in the corner of the picture you could see a little bit of a red t-shirt.

she immediately gasps. “chris! that’s chris.”

“how did you get that!” chris asks, his mouth open slightly.

“the red shirt. that was our first date and our first picture.” she tells him, looking up at him from her chair.

“well it’s safe to say y/n can tell us apart.” nick says, grabbing the camera.

june 25, 2021

baking pizza blindfolded with chris

“chris!” y/n giggles as chris starts playing with the flour on the counter.

“what baby?” he asks, laughing as well.

“stop playing with the flour.” she tells him as matt stands on the other side of chris.

march 4, 2024

sturniololvr

liked by 43,929

sturniololvr - i miss them.

12,741 comments

user - the last video she was in was the everyone relax video 😔

march 6, 2024

y/n ❤️:

*attachment one video*

this one has a little kick to it

chris baby 🫶:

y/n/n please stop sending me break up edits of us we’re literally still together.

y/n ❤️:

IM SORRY BABY BUT THEYRE LITERALLY EVERYWHERE

may 17, 2023

“chris can we talk?” y/n asks. chris’ mind immediately starts running millions of miles a minute. he thought she was breaking up with him.

“no!” he quickly exclaims. y/n gasps, realizing what was going through his mind.

“no baby i’m not breaking up with you.” she tells him.

“oh okay then yes we can talk.” he nods, walking closer to her, their chests almost touching.

“is it okay if i’m not really in the videos anymore? i really love being in them with you guys but the fans have gotten to be too much. i’ve tried to ignore them.” she tells him softly. chris’ face softens.

“of course, yeah. i’ll tell nick and matt in the morning.” chris nods softly.

“i’m sor-“ she begins to apologize.

“don’t even think about apologizing. i understand and i know that nick and matt will understand too. c’mere.” he says, pulling her into him.

march 13, 2024

chris makes matt and nick his favorite meal

“chris do you think i could be in today’s video? even for just like a second. i don’t like people thinking that we broke up.” y/n asks softly, just before the triplets were about to film a wednesday video.

“yeah mama, you’re always allowed in a video.” chris nods, a smile on his face.

“y/n come get your plate!” chris smiles at his girlfriend who was sitting in the living room. a happy smile spreads on her face as she walks into the view of the camera to grab the plate out of chris’ hand.

“thank you.” she smiles, quickly pecking his lips before walking back to the living room. she would usually eat at the table but the boys were currently using the table.

a smile stayed on y/n’s face as she scrolled through all the comments the newest video.

user - Y/N BABY

user - i can die happily knowing they’re still together

user - y’all are crazy

user - i missed her 😕😕

user - FAVVVVVV COUPLE THEYRE SO CUTE

a/n: hey guys !! sorry for being so inactive, this year has been so so crazy. for starters, i lost my great grandmother january first, and then i lost my great grandfather on february twenty third. a few months later, my older brother attempted and was put into a hospital, and now my grandfather has cancer that spread to his lungs and brain. on top of everything, i’ve been preparing for my aunt’s wedding (i’m a bridesmaid) and everything has been super stressful. i wanted to post something and let you guys know that i’ll be taking a break to take time for myself and to spend time with my family. i’ll still be lurking around on the app, commenting, reblogging, etc, i just won’t be posting any fics for a little while.

i hope you can all understand and i love you all <3 <3 <3

[felassan]

All companions are pansexual!!!

Game is rated M, will contain nudity. [source]

Full article:

"In a new interview with The Veilguard game director Corinne Busche, we've confirmed that yes, you will be able to romance any companion you want, regardless of your character's gender or race. It's a bit of a surprise for fans, considering that in previous Dragon Age games, the romanceable characters had different sexual orientations. Some were pansexual, sure, but others were heterosexual, others were only attracted to the same sex, and some could only be romanced if you were a certain race (Dragon Age: Inquisition's Solas, for example, could only be romanced by female elves). But Busche pushes back on the idea that The Veilguard's companions are "playersexual," a term used to describe games where NPCs are specifically only attracted to the player character. She says she's seen playersexual "done in a number of games," and "it can be really off-putting where these characters are adapting to who you, the player, are." Rather, Busche insists that they're all specifically pansexual, and that might come through in what you learn about their backstories. "Their past experiences or partners, they'll reference them and indeed who they'll become romantic with," Busche tells IGN. "For instance, we saw Harding. I might be playing a straight male character flirting with her, but I choose not to pursue a romance. She might get together with Taash. So my perception, my identity has no bearing on their identities and that comes through really strongly." When asked if that means it won't take long for romance to become an option in The Veilguard, Busche confirms that you'll be able to start flirting with everyone pretty early, as you recruit all seven companions throughout the first act. But, she clarifies, "it's not until the later parts of the game where you really commit to romance and it gets pretty spicy.""

---

"Speaking of spicy... Of course, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a BioWare game, and games from the studio — specifically those in the Mass Effect and Dragon Age series — are known to have some fairly explicit sex scenes. Busche confirms that The Veilguard will be no different, particularly towards the end of the game: "Of course, we are an M-rated game," she says. "We do have nudity." There's also some obvious parallels to be made between The Veilguard and last year's critical darling Baldur's Gate 3. The latter became known not only for its deep romances (like The Veilguard, Baldur's Gate 3 player characters can romance any companion regardless of gender or race), but also for its sex scenes, including one involving a Wild-Shaping Druid that went pretty viral. Busche isn't afraid to admit that she has played Baldur's Gate 3, and loved it, as she's an "an RPG fan through and through": "The more character-driven party-based RPGs with deep emotional connection, the better." "What I love about the two games is I think they live side by side in a really interesting way," she continues. "They're very different games, but those emotional connections and how the narratives hook you, I think there's space for both." Specifically in regards to the sex scenes and how The Veilguard will handle theirs differently, Busche says some of Baldur's Gate 3's scenes were "shocking and comical in some ways, and I would say I loved that." "Our companions, we want them to be relatable and fully realized. So they can get spicy, but in a way that I think people will actually relate to," she says. Basically: no bear sex. Busche goes on to say that how sexually explicit the scenes are, too, will vary between characters. "Some of them are more spicy than others," she reveals. "Just like real life, our companions have such diverse personalities. Some of them are more physical, more aggressive, and some of them are more... we have a gentleman necromancer, for instance, that is more intimate and sensual." Our interview with Busche comes as BioWare continues to roll out information about the highly anticipated Dragon Age sequel, with a cinematic trailer having dropped at the Xbox Showcase over the weekend. Dragon Age: The Veilguard will debut sometime this fall."

[source]

[sceletaflores]

Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up.

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, malpractice? unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

authors note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you. 

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone. 

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you. 

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you. 

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.” 

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller. 

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey. 

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands. 

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure,  "Just try to relax.” 

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter. 

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything. 

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings." 

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done. 

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up. 

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you. 

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back. 

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house. 

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things. 

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.” 

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience. 

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to. 

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing. 

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold. 

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment. The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want some random massage therapist.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk about that door right now and never step foot in their house again. 

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything. 

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now. 

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him. 

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over. 

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly. 

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue. 

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.” 

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest. 

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still  squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist. 

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from. 

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,”  he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

 "I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room. 

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying. 

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it. 

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you. 

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you. 

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself. 

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you.  Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets. 

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him. 

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter. 

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining. 

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” you whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips. 

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan. 

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you’ve had with her over the weeks. 

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

taglist!

@ebodebo @yuenity @artemis-b-writes

[abby-sturniolo44]

— - She’s the one - —

A/N: kinda short but cute, enjoy :)

Summary: Matt realizes y/n is the one at his mom’s 60th birthday.

⚠️Warnings: Suggestive at the end if you squint but mostly pure fluff <3

………………………………………………………………………………….

Today is Mary Lou’s birthday, you spend the whole day celebrating her with the entire family, of course you’ve met Matt’s parents before but this was the first time you hung out with EVERYONE including their grandma, uncles, aunts and cousins, and you took the time to talk and get to know every single one of them.

Matt’s mom loves you and you love her too, every time your boyfriend visits his hometown you tag along just so you could spend some time with her. This morning Matt woke up all alone, confused he walked downstairs just to find you helping his mom in the kitchen with all the preparations for her birthday , you spend all morning helping until the guests arrived, then Mary Lou introduced you to everyone, everybody was thrilled to finally meet the girl who Mary Lou can’t stop yapping about.

Right now you are talking to Matt’s grandma, she tells you stories about the boys that you haven’t heard before and you can’t help but laugh at every anecdote.

Matt’s been frustrated all day, of course he’s happy to be there and celebrate his mom but hates the fact that he hasn’t had one moment alone with you all day, he loves his family but they keep getting on his nerves, he just doesn’t wanna share you, he knows you are amazing and wants to keep you all for himself but every time he thinks it’s his turn with you someone else would need you for something.

The only thing he can do is stand in a corner admiring you from afar talking with his grandma, you’re smiling ear to ear, you seem truly invested in the conversation with the old lady and his heart swells. He is to busy staring at you that he doesn’t notice his dad standing beside him until he opened his mouth.

“She is the one, isn’t she?”

Matt looks over at his dad, then looks back at you and it hits him “yeah, she is”

“You know I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love Nick and Chris but somehow I do, I can’t really explain it though it’s different”

“It’s different but it’s just as powerful, and just wait until you have her children, you’ll heart will explode” Jimmy says amused as he hugs his son and they stay like that for a while.

…

The birthday was over and everyone was gone, the kitchen was a mess but you insisted Mary Lou that you got it and that she should go to bed and rest.

Nick and Chris are outside picking up the rest of the stuff and you are putting dishes in the dishwasher when you feel some familiar arms around your waist, it was Matt, he hugs you tightly from behind and places his head on the crook of your neck, you feel him breathe in how he leaves sweet kisses between the end of your ear and your jaw, you can’t help but to melt into him and relaxed.

“I missed you today, I love my family but they need to understand you’re mine and not theirs” he mumbles

You laugh “I missed you too but you’re family is great, I don’t mind spending time with them and your grandma is so endearing, I really enjoyed today,”

“Would you enjoy it even more if after we are finished with the cleaning I take you to my room and remind you why I’m way more endearing than my grandma?”

You blushed, turn around and give him a big kiss on the lips “we’ll see, now help me clean Bernie”

“She told you that?!” Matt said with an open mouth, shocked at the fact his grandma shared the nickname she gave him when he was a little boy.

“She also told me about the time you peed your pants at school and she had to pick you up”

“I hope you won’t turn out like my grandma when we’re old because I won’t let you talk to our grandson’s girlfriend EVER!!”

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter nineteen ⭐︎ For you, I would ruin myself, a million little times

Warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of loss, insecurities, allusions to depression, mentions of cheating (jancy), sad memories, fluff at the end (with Steve, yes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You take a painful road down memory lane and it makes you question everything.

Word count: 10.4k+

⭐︎ as always a special shoutout to @hellfire--cult thanks for plotting and writing with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

“Are you ready to tell me or not?” 

You look up from your plate, still chewing on the pasta that Eddie had cooked, you put down the fork and reach for your pepsi as you look at Max who stares at you with a tilted head, a knowing smile resting on her face. 

You shake your head and furrow your brows at the girl, glancing at Eddie who looks just as confused as you do. 

“Tell you what?” 

Max picks up her garlic bread and shrugs, “about you and Steve and how you’ve been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs,” she says nonchalantly before she takes a bite. 

You nearly choke on your drink, eyes growing wide, matching the ones of Eddie who seems to be just as surprised as you are, he even stopped eating. 

You blink, trying to process her words. 

“W-What?” Is all that you can say as you stare at the redhead, like a deer caught in headlights and with a pounding heart. 

“You know, at first I thought Lucas was crazy for teasing Steve about you and making all those comments about how perfect you two are for each other, especially because Steve always seemed just as annoyed with you as you with him but then he suddenly had different reactions whenever Lucas said something about you and I noticed how red his cheeks got every time he looked at you all lovey dovey,” she holds her finger up, eyes growing wide as she pointing at you to stay quiet, “and then… and then! You both started disappearing at the same time and started whispering to each other, sitting next to each other when it’s something you wouldn’t have done before, not to mention the secret hand holding,” Max laughs, shaking her head at you. 

Your eyes widen at her ‘lovey dovey’ comment, hope that has been rising in you more and more, burning warmly in your chest but Steve doesn’t look at you that way, does he? 

Eddie stares at her, feeling impressed by her observations. 

Just like him, you feel impressed too, shocked and a little nervous but not scared the way you would feel if it were anyone else but her. She can keep a secret and she is like a sister to you – and unfortunately, sisters always know everything and uncover secrets without a struggle.

“I don’t know how the others haven’t figured it out yet, you two are so obvious,” she snorts, picking up her fork again, she stabs her pasta onto it, “just as obvious as my mom and your uncle,” she says to Eddie who shrugs and nods in agreement, “I mean… does anyone actually believe that he’s fixing our fence? The fence is fine! … They go to Enzo’s like every Friday night, by the way.” 

Eddie chuckles and takes a bite of his food, “it’s only a matter of time until you and your mom move in with us.” 

You expect Max to roll her eyes at him but instead she smirks, “yeah, hope you’re ready to become my personal driver.” 

“Am I not your personal driver already?” Eddie snorts. “I mean, you even got two personal drivers, didn’t you both go shopping this morning?” He asks, pointing between you. 

“Yes we did, and we were very successful,” Max nods. 

You aren’t surprised about Susan and Wayne, they’re truly very obvious and now you can’t help but wonder if you and Steve are the same, with the exception that you two aren’t dating… sadly. 

Max looks away from Eddie, returning her gaze back to you, “so when were you gonna tell me that you and Steve are a couple?” 

Eddie coughs, glancing at you sideways as he grimaces when he sees your falling expression. 

“They’re not a couple,” Eddie says for you, noticing the way your eyes sadden and your lips curl downwards at his words. 

Max furrows her brows, tilting her head at you and giving Eddie a look of confusion. 

“What–”

“Yeah, Steve and I are not… dating.” 

The past few weeks have felt like it though, it felt like there was something more between you and him, and after finding out that you have been the only girl for him these past few months, it started feeling even more like it. 

Max stares at you now, eyebrows pulling up and eyes flashing with even more confusion, “but… huh?” 

“They’re just having… uh… fun, Red,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back in his seat, “you know… adult fun.” 

You roll your eyes at his choice of words, just the way she does before she gives him a deadpan look. 

“I’m not five, Eddie! I know what they’re doing but that makes no sense!”

“What doesn’t make sense?” You ask and reach for your drink again. 

She looks down bewildered, dropping her fork and waving with her hands as she points at you, “Billy had fun and you know how much fun he had!” 

You chuckle and nod.

“But he never held hands with those girls or looked at them like… like he was in love or something! He had fun and then he moved on to… the next… fun. It’s different with you and Steve though!” 

A sigh falls from your lips and your shoulders slump as you lean back. 

Yeah, of course it’s different with you and Steve, the difference between Billy’s fun and your fun is that he never loved any of the girls he had been with, you on the other hand, are sickly and madly in love with the guy you are having ‘fun’ with and you are pretty certain that Steve doesn’t feel the same, no matter what anyone says. 

Eddie glances at you, waiting for you to say something, to tell her the truth because he knows you will, you don’t seem to feel the need to hide from Max, knowing she won’t run off to her friends and tell them all about it and risking it reaching Steve, Max isn’t like that, especially not when it comes to you.

“It’s not, Max…” You sigh, looking down at your hands. 

She raises her eyebrows again, squinting her eyes at you. 

“So… you’re saying it’s actually just fun?” She asks like she almost wants to chuckle in amusement. 

You sigh again and raise your head again, rolling your eyes, “well… yeah… no, I– fuck… no, no it’s not just fun… not for me.” 

Eddie looks at you sadly, sighing too. 

“And Steve?” 

You shrug, despite the hope in you, you don’t know what he feels, if he even feels anything for you. 

“It’s just… fun… for him?” You mumble, flinching at your own words. 

“Uh… is it?” Max mumbles, not looking or sounding convinced.

“It’s what he said,” Eddie shrugs, rolling his eyes when he thinks back to the night he confronted you both, “and he seemed pretty set on it, he said it just that and nothing more when I found out about it.”

“Mhm.” You nod, hiding your face as you tilt your head down again, not wanting to show more feelings than necessary. “Can we talk about something else now, please?” 

Eddie nods, “sure–”

“No,” Max shakes her head, “I wanna talk about this!” 

“My relationship with Steve isn’t appropriate to discuss with a teenager–”

“Oh, so there is a relationship,” Max interrupts you, giving you a smug smirk. 

“No, there isn’t, you know what I mean!” 

She chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest, continuing to stare at you. 

“So… Do you love him then?”

Your eyeroll is enough of an answer to that question. 

“I knew it,” she murmurs under her breath, “and what about him, you think he doesn’t feel the same?” She asks, thinking that her own question sounds absurd, she saw the way Steve looked at you, multiple times already. 

“I know he doesn’t,” you shrug. 

“Why not?” 

“Because he hated me, Max–”

“Yeah, he obviously hated you so so much, that’s why you’re holding hands now and kissing every time you think no one’s watching! I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t hold hands and kiss my enemy… oh! Or look at them with lovesick smiles and everything!” 

You sigh again, tilting your head back as you look up at the ceiling. 

This isn’t good for you, it really isn’t, you don’t need to be fed with more delusions. 

“I think he feels the same, it’s pretty clear!”

“If it’s so clear then why isn’t it being talked about?” Eddie retorts, not feeling convinced of Max’s words, “why didn’t he say anything to change their relationship yet? I mean, he had no issue talking to his ex-girlfriend about his feelings for her when he knew she was with someone else! Oh and by the way, Nancy cheated on him and left him for someone else and he still confessed his feelings for her again… years later, he knew he would look like an absolute fool – which he did but that didn’t stop him! So what should stop him now, hm? He’s got nothing to lose with her!” Eddie points at you, “she never hurt him, she has no one else that he has to compete against, she fucking loves him! So him confessing his feelings for her wouldn’t ruin anything like it would have with Nancy or Jonathan if they reacted badly to his stupid confession!” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, ignoring the stinging in your heart. 

You knew all about his love confession to Nancy – their conversation in the RV was only the first step towards it. You remember the jealousy you felt when he told her about his dream, about the kids and the future he always wished for, you knew who he saw by his side when he talked about it all. To find out that he confessed his love to her in the Upside Down made you feel even worse,  especially when you were still recovering from all your injuries. Robin rambled away about it and told you every detail, you didn’t even ask for. 

Eddie’s words make your heart ache yet again, you know he is right, but they kill your hope a little and you are holding onto it so tightly. 

Max, on the other hand, refuses to agree with him, she squints her eyes at him, leaning closer to the table, “maybe he is scared, Eddie? Have you thought of that? I mean, the whole thing with Nancy was… a heat of the moment kind of thing, there was literally nothing between them but there is something between them!” She argues, pointing at you. 

“I have thought about it,” Eddie nods, “but if I feel like I might lose someone I love for not saying anything to them, I damn right would do something!” 

“I love him, Eddie,” you mumble, your cheeks heating up at your vulnerable confession in front of Max, “but I never plan on telling him how I feel, so…”

Max groans at your words and rolls her eyes, “two idiots, I swear to god, I bet Steve is feeling and saying the same shit to whoever else knows.” 

“Robin,” Eddie nods at her. 

Robin, yeah. 

Robin who is suddenly not as fond of you as she was before, rolling her eyes and scoffing at you every chance she gets, irritating you a little more every time you’re around her now. You considered her a close friend before she suddenly turned on you and started acting weirdly towards you. You don’t know what her deal is but you suspect that she minds your presence around her best friend, fearing that you might ‘steal’ him from her because he is spending less time with her and more with you – as though she wasn’t the first to ditch him to be with Vickie. 

“Great!” Max shrugs, “then why don’t you talk to her, try to get information out of her… since you two are accomplices?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head quickly, turning to Eddie in panic, “please don’t! Don’t talk to Robin, Eddie! She’s gonna tell Steve and if he doesn’t feel the same then…” 

Eddie shakes his head at you, not needing you to finish the sentence. He reaches his hand out to you and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he sighs, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. He knows how deep your feelings are for Steve, how much you love him and how long you have loved him for already and now that you somewhat have him, you try to do everything to keep him, even when you are breaking your own heart in the process. 

He isn’t fond of this affair because he has an idea of how it will end and he fears that day, knowing what it will do to you but he can’t do anything to change it, he can’t save you from heartbreak, knowing it will happen sooner or later. 

You slump back in your seat, feeling pathetic for feeling this way, for holding on so desperately when there is only a small chance that there might be something and even that chance isn’t enough for you to go and find out the truth, not even when hope lingers in you after all the sweet moments you had with him. 

Max looks at you in a way her brother once did, when he found out the truth and realized just how deep your feelings were, back then already. 

You remember how the look in his eyes went from shock to confusion to sadness and sympathy. 

And you remember how awkward and embarrassed you had felt that night. 

It was raining outside, the windows were fogged and the smell of sex lingered in the room, you never knew what people meant by it when they mentioned that smell until that night. Your forehead was coated with sweat, your cheeks were glowing and feeling hot, your skin smelled like him, like his cologne and his aftershave, and your body felt different, not in a bad way, just in a foreign one.

You held the sheets tightly against your chest and looked out the window, watching as the rain paddled down the glass, a smile tugged at your lips and your chest wasn’t filled with sadness for once. 

“Hey,” Billy said and pulled your attention back to him, “give me a smile.” 

You turned your head to look at him, a giggle fell from your lips when you noticed the polaroid camera in his hands, his eyes were squinted and a smirk lingered on his face. 

“Seriously?” 

He took a picture of you before you reached forward and swatted the camera out of your face. 

Billy leaned back from you and held the camera away so you couldn’t reach it, he laughed at the bashful expression on your face.

“Need a picture of your special first time,” he joked and laughed again when you rolled your eyes at him and blushed. 

He took the picture out and started shaking it for reveal. He leaned back against your pillows and reached for his beer, drinking it while staring at you. 

“Well, we are not doing that again,” he said and you knew that it would’ve offended many other girls, but not you, because you felt the same. 

“Yeah, it didn’t feel right, did it?” You scrunched your nose. 

“Not at all,” Billy laughed before his face grew serious as his eyes roamed your face, “do you feel alright?” He asked in concern because he noticed how distant you looked, like your mind was somewhere else or with someone else.

He straightened up and furrowed his brows at you, “who are you thinking about?” 

You felt caught and you felt ashamed. 

You never admitted your feelings for Steve to anyone, they didn’t even make sense so how could you even begin to describe them? 

You looked down and closed your eyes, you pulled your brows together as though in pain and it only made him more curious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?” Billy asked and dropped the polaroid camera and the picture on the mattress beside him. He placed the beer back on the nightstand and grabbed his pack of cigarettes instead, “is he ugly?” 

His question made you snort, you opened your eyes again and looked at his serious face. 

“No, he is not ugly, not in the slightest.” 

His lips curled downwards for a moment as he nodded, “do I know him?” He asked before he placed a cigarette between his lips. 

You only gave him a look and that was enough to confirm his question. 

He hummed and kept staring at you with a curious look on his face, he lit up his cigarette and threw the lighter on the nightstand, taking a long drag before he blew the smoke out. 

“I do, huh?” He chuckled and squinted his eyes at you, “are you gonna tell me or are you gonna let me guess?”

You smirked and shrugged at him, you held the blanket tighter against your chest and reached for the camera beside him, “guess, Billy,” you teased him as though your heart didn’t start pounding from all the nervousness inside of you. 

“Jesus,” he sighed in annoyance, “is he popular or a loser?” 

You shrugged and squinted your eye as you brought the camera up to your face and wasted no second to take a picture of him too, he didn’t seem to mind, not like you did. 

He started saying names, random names of guys you weren’t even sure went to Hawkins High. You kept shaking your head and saying no, you felt surprised that Steve’s name hadn't left his lips yet. 

“Huh, it’s not the drug dealer is it? What’s his name again?”

“Uh… You mean Eddie?” 

He nodded and pointed his finger at you, “yeah, him.”

You shook your head, “no, he’s cute but no, he’s not really my type,” you mumbled and sighed, “probably would’ve been better if it was someone like him, he’s nice, at least.” 

He hummed and stared at you, he fell quiet for a while and his face grew serious after a few minutes, then his eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. 

“Fuck… girl, please don’t tell me that it’s King Steve.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat and your face started burning beneath his gaze, you couldn’t stand to look into his eyes any longer so you broke eye contact and looked down at your hands in your covered lap. 

“Shit…” He sighed and slumped back, looking at you in disbelief, like you had fallen in love with his arch nemesis. 

“I know,” you mumbled in annoyance because you knew what he was about to say, “you don’t have to tell me how stupid I am, I already know that.” 

Billy stayed quiet for a moment and stared at the pained expression on your face. Yeah, he was about to say something stupid about Steve, about his stupid hair and your feelings for him but when he looked closer – and he knew you pretty well at that point, he could see just how much pain lingered behind your eyes, how glassy they got and how your bottom lip wobbled just the slightest bit. 

He was never the best with words and he certainly was never someone to give comfort, he didn’t even know how to, no one ever comforted him, only you did. 

He bit his tongue and swallowed the bitter words that were about to leave his lips. 

He opened his mouth but shut it again when he saw you wiping away a tear. 

Billy sighed and ran a hand through his mullet, he pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his eyes at the thought of the jock. 

“It’s pretty serious isn’t it?” 

You only nodded and said nothing. 

“So… you’re like in love with him or some shit?”

“I guess so,” you whispered even though you knew for certain. “Feels like it’s tearing my heart apart or something every time I see him, every time he says something dumb to me.” 

“How…?” He asked and sighed again, “shit, I knew you liked him, you wouldn’t have defended him every chance you got but I thought you were just being nice to that fucker… Jesus…”

You shook your head again and slowly looked up at your best friend, “I can’t give you an answer, Billy. I don’t know how it happened, it just… happened. That’s gonna sound so cheesy but… when I first saw him I just… I felt safe and comfortable… happy. He smiled at me when he passed me in the hallway and I just – I don’t know, I can’t explain this feeling and it doesn’t matter anyways, he turned out to be a dick who hates my guts so… I’ll get over these feelings someday.” 

Billy didn’t believe your words and you didn’t either. 

You have loved him at first sight and that never changed or lessened, your feelings kept getting worse and worse and it made no sense because he kept treating you badly. 

You were infatuated with him, bewitched. 

You expected Billy to judge you but he didn’t, you thought he would say bad things about Steve but he never did, at least not when it came to you and your feelings for him. 

If anything, Billy encouraged you to act on your feelings, to get closer to him, to make a move and try. 

And you did, but it only made everything worse. 

And now, you stare at his sister and watch as she tries to do the same.

It went sideways the first time and you fear that it won’t go any different this time – yes, things have changed, you and Steve are something now, something you would have never seen coming a year before, especially after what happened when you did try to make a move on him. You just can not find it in yourself to even try, to gather all your confidence and use the sliver of hope to confess to him in hopes that he could feel the same, that you could be something more than what you are now. 

You can feel that things have shifted into a different direction, the softness in his eyes, his gentle touches and acts of affection are proof of that and still, you fear rejection and losing this because this thing between you is just too fragile, too easy to break and ruin. 

It’s not long ago that Steve couldn’t even bare to look at you without rolling his eyes or scoffing some cold words at you and you try not to think of them, to leave things in the past, to not go over his hurtful words again and again but something inside of you seems to manifest all the saddening and painful words your poor heart was attacked with in the past and you can’t fight off those memories, you try to but you can’t and it saddens you even more because the past few weeks with Steve, have been nothing but heavenly to you. 

You woke up in his arms every morning, he held you through the night, woke you with kisses and cooked you breakfast, he held your hand and treated you as if you were his, like you were his girlfriend and he your boyfriend – you got a taste of something you always craved and longed for and that should bring you peace, it really should but he is showing you, giving you something that you know he will take away again when the time comes. 

When you step into your house after dropping Max off at El’s, you make your way up to your bedroom and open your closet, looking for something comfortable to change into, when the navy blue color flashes in your peripheral vision. You grab a pair of your sleeping shorts and a random shirt of Steve’s, trying to ignore the dress that practically stares at you, forcing you to recall one of your worst memories. 

You clutch your clean clothes to your chest and take a look at the pretty sundress you bought at the GAP store when Starcourt mall was still intact. You reach out to touch it, pinching the thin material between your thumb and your pointer finger, a sad smile tugs at your lip when you think back to the day you bought it – just to look pretty for him. 

Your best friend kept encouraging you, filling you with hope that you could have a chance with Steve, that he wouldn’t say no to you if you tried to make a move, if you tried to ask him out, if you went after your feelings. Week after week had passed and Billy forced confidence onto you and pushed you towards a guy he didn’t even like. 

You kept denying his words, you knew you had no chance with him, not even after you graduated from high school, not even after Steve had changed and his mean words became less harsh. 

And yet, a part of you listened to Billy, that naive and hopeful part of you that really wanted her crush to like her back and give her the chance she always wanted. 

You bought a pretty dress, you got your hair done and did your makeup, lighter and girlier than usual, you put on your favorite perfume and jewelry and you decided to give it a try – you shouldn’t have, you should’ve listened to your brain and not your heart. 

The mall was bustling with people, kids were running around the water fountain, a group of young girls rushed past you, giggling in excitement as they carried their many shopping bags, you were standing in front of Scoops Ahoy, with your cheeks burning and your heart racing. 

In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing, you came up with no plan before you came here, you just woke up that morning and decided that Billy was right, that you could take a chance and go after what you wanted – you had nothing to lose, except for your dignity. Besides, you were no longer in school, if things went wrong, you could easily avoid him.

You had taken a look inside, only a few teenagers sat by the window, it wasn’t crowded, not in the slightest. You saw him, he was standing behind the counter with his back turned to you as he was talking to his co-worker who spoke to him through the small window between them. 

Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to the side, a smile lingered on his face as he nodded along to the music that played on the radio. 

You could have still turned back, you could have still left without being seen, without having made a fool of yourself. But you didn’t, you didn’t turn around, you didn’t change your mind, you walked into your own demise. 

You took a deep breath and walked up to the counter, you twisted the ring on your finger and focused on him. He looked so good, even in his silly uniform, he looked so pretty. His sailor hat was laying on the counter and he was twisting the ice cream scooper in his hand, he only turned around when his co-worker, Robin, nudged her chin at you before she turned her back to him and disappeared further into the room. 

You blinked and breathed heavily as you realized that you didn’t even know what to say, you didn’t prepare for this, you were never good with words or conversing with boys, you didn’t know how to flirt – well, you did, Billy taught you, but you had never used your newly learned skill before. 

And when Steve turned around to face, it was too late to think of what to say, anyways. 

“Ahoy–” his cheerful words cut short and the smile on his face fell when he saw you, “oh, it’s you.” 

That should have been enough to change your mind, to make you turn back and run the other way. 

“Hi Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he slid his scooper back into place, he put his hands on the counter and sighed. 

“Blondie,” he nodded. 

You were too nervous to see the way he looked at you, the way his eyes roamed your face and your styled hair, your glowing skin and your pretty dress, the way his cheeks changed color as he kept staring at you. 

“What can I get for you?” He asked and cleared his throat as he gestured to the many ice cream flavors. 

You shifted and tilted your head to the side, your hair fell from your shoulder and down your back. He looked again, at your exposed skin, at the dainty chain around your neck. 

“I uh… I’m… I don’t know yet,” you stuttered and felt yourself growing more nervous than before. 

Steve sighed and looked away from you, “of course,” he murmured under his breath. 

Your cheeks burned hotly, your eyes felt heavy and you looked down as you already felt the regret rushing through your body. You wanted to say something, anything, but all your words were caught in your throat, everything you would’ve said if he liked you a little more were stuck and frozen. 

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, you looked at his face and wondered why you even let Billy encourage you and talk you into doing this. The few ‘nice’ interactions you had with Steve meant nothing. The smile he wore on his lips before could never be directed at you, the soft look in his hazel eyes disappeared the moment he saw you, the tone in his voice changed in an instant. 

“How are you…?” You asked, cringing at yourself, at the question, at the shakiness in your voice. 

He looked back at you and raised his eyebrows, an unamused chuckle fell from his lips. 

“What do you want?” He asked and shrugged at you, “we’re out of high school, we don’t have to see each other anymore and I know you’re not here for ice cream, you usually don’t have an issue making a decision, so why are you here, Blondie?”

You could not help but draw back as a cold shudder ran down your spine, you blinked and looked down. 

You missed the look of guilt that flashed in his eyes when he watched you step back and you closed your eyes for a moment, your brows scrunched together as though in pain. 

He was always this way, you knew what you were stepping into, you knew how he would react and you couldn’t blame him, you weren’t exactly nice to him in school and snapped back at him every time he threw a rude comment at you. 

You swallowed and took a deep breath, you looked back up at him, at the hazel eyes you always loved so much. 

Steve huffed and he took a deep breath, he stared at you intensely and you didn’t know what it meant, a part of you thought that it was his hatred, the other was foolishly hopeful. 

“Yeah… I know but I just… I thought that maybe we could,” you paused as your heart felt as though it was about to tear from your chest any moment. He looked at you so intensely, he made you feel so small beneath his gaze. 

“We could what?” He asked a little too harshly and made you cower back. 

“This was a bad idea,” you whispered to yourself and took another step back, “I’m sorry I just…”

“What’s up with you?” Steve mumbled and furrowed his brows at you, confused at the side of you he never met before. “Did you miss being annoying so much that you had to come bother me at work, Blondie?” 

You heard the teasing in his voice, you saw the sliver of amusement in his eyes but you really only focused on the way your heart clenched in pain and how regret took on full control. 

You rolled your eyes, not at him but at yourself, at your foolishness.

Of course he doesn’t want to see you, why would he? 

He never liked you and he certainly wouldn’t start now, he would probably laugh into your face if you asked for what you came for – a date. 

Your cheeks were nearly hurting from all the blushing, your heart was skipping and pounding, your hands felt clammy. You never felt the need to cry in front of him, you never felt vulnerable around him because your walls were always high up and guarded by a second layer, now you came without protection and decided to let yourself be vulnerable for once, only to feel like breaking down from the embarrassment that was gnawing at you. 

“Cat got your tongue? That’s new…” He chuckled and stared you down still, eyebrows still furrowed and lips pursed. His hardened expression fell a little and something else took over, something you couldn’t read. “Did someone stand you up?” 

Steve wasn’t used to your silence so you weren’t surprised about the confusion on his face. You looked at him again and caught him eyeing you up and down, his eyes lingered on your dress for longer than necessary. 

His question went unanswered and he grew frustrated with you. 

“Can’t blame them if they did,” he mumbled, throwing daggers at your heart. 

That stung. 

Normally his words would’ve angered you and you would’ve shot back straight away, despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t have kept quiet or struggled to say something back but not today, today you let him hurt you – deep down you knew this would happen, this was always how you interacted, he said something mean and then you would too. His words were nothing new and yet they cut deep. 

You swallowed hard and dug your nails into your palms, your breathing quickened and you knew you had to get out of here but something kept you standing, you felt as though you were frozen. 

Steve coughed awkwardly and looked away for a moment, he grabbed his scooper again, “so… wanna eat your feelings or what?” He asked and pointed at the many flavors, eyes back on you. 

“No–”

“Hi, Steve!”

You nearly flinched at the high pitched voice and had to hold back the eyeroll when you saw the girl next to you, who didn’t bother to hide the dirty looks she gave you before she returned her attention back to him, flashing him a sickly sweet smile that made his eyes light up.

The girl used to be on the cheer team, very popular and gossipy, unkind and one of the most unpleasant people you have met – and she usually spends her Saturday nights in Billy’s sheets.

Steve’s eyes were no longer on you, instead they were stuck on the pretty girl beside you, he eyed her up and down, not with distaste or annoyance but with interest and a smirk on his lips. 

“Hey, how are you?” He asked and leaned against the counter, a flirty look crossed his face, “you look amazing, Olivia.” 

She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger, she licked her lips as she eyed him like she was hungry. 

“So do you.”

Steve smirked at her and chuckled softly. 

At that point, you didn’t know what you felt because your sadness ran so deep, you didn’t have it in yourself to feel jealous anymore. 

You just felt like a fool. 

And you felt angry, at yourself and at him for being so horrible to you. Olivia’s giggles did nothing to make you feel less horrible, like nails on chalkboard her voice was irritating you in the worst way possible, so before leaving, you turned towards her and when she met your gaze with a fake smile, you matched the look on her face. 

“Wouldn’t waste your time here, Olivia,” you said her name, mockingly and looked her up and down, not feeling jealous over the ugly sandals or the green skirt she was wearing. “He only flirts to pass time. Besides, isn’t that your boyfriend waiting for you?” You asked and tilted your head at the guy in front of the store, he was already glaring at Steve. 

Olivia clenched her jaw and glared at you, huffing in annoyance which gave you a little satisfaction. 

“Better not leave him waiting or someone might tell him what or who you do every Saturday night.” 

Her pale face grew even… paler and you couldn’t even bite back the smirk, despite the blow that was just delivered to your heart. 

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked between you, he saw the way you blinked, fastly, he saw how glassy your eyes were despite the look on your face. 

You turned back to him and looked at him with a straight face, “you usually don’t mind sharing your girls though, do you? So… go nuts,” you shrugged before you turned around and walked away from him, not planning to look back. 

You should have, you should have looked back because then you would’ve seen the guilt in his eyes, the regret that crossed his features, the tension that slipped off his shoulders and the disinterest that took over for the girl in front of him. The sadness that flashed in his eyes for missing an opportunity, for letting you go like this. 

But you didn’t, you kept going and you rushed back out into the bustling mall, you blinked away the tears and made your way back home. You tore the dress off your skin the moment you stepped into your room. 

And you never wore it again. 

You roll your eyes at yourself for feeling pain for the girl you were a year before, for still hurting because of the things he said to you, for the way he looked at you, for the way he flirted with a different girl in front of you. 

The past doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter, especially not now, not anymore – not after what you have gone through together, not after he changed, not after he started treating you differently, not after all the nights and mornings you have spent with each other, not after all the gentle touches, not after the way he kissed you and held you close that one night, not after he called you late at night just to hear your voice. 

He is different now, you are different now, you aren’t the teenagers you were a year back. 

The past shouldn’t hurt. 

You slam the closet door shut and walk out of your room and into the bathroom, you start the shower, letting the water warm up while you take off your clothes. You feel frustration bubbling inside of you, the conversation with Max and her encouraging words triggered all the memories that you refused to think about in these past few months. 

The day at Scoops Ahoy made you sad and angry, it made you want to never see him again, you avoided the mall after that day and you didn’t see much of him after. You hated yourself for hoping, for going after your feelings, for believing that you could have a chance after Billy’s encouragement – Billy who pushed you away only a week later, with harsh words and a mean look on his face, he pushed you away when you needed him the most and you felt alone again, so alone. At that time, you didn’t understand why he did it, why he didn’t want you in his life anymore, you didn’t know that he was just trying to protect you from the upside down, from himself. 

And then he died and you lost yourself completely. 

You drowned your sorrows in alcohol and kissed the lips of strangers, you let them touch you in hopes that you would feel something, you woke up in their beds and hated yourself after because no matter how good they were to you, how nice the conversations went, how much they made you laugh, how nice they made you feel, they couldn’t make you forget about the friend you lost, they couldn’t make you forget about him, they couldn’t give you what you wanted, what you needed, what you longed for. 

You searched for glimpses of Steve in every man you kissed and you hated yourself for it because you wondered why you even felt that way for someone who couldn’t even stand you, who hated you with all his being. 

What made you fall in love with him? 

What tied you to him the way it did? 

Because he never gave you a reason to fall in love with him back then, he treated you unkindly from the moment you met and yet you couldn’t help your feelings, you couldn’t help but adore him, you couldn’t help but admire him. 

You even felt your own heart break when you found out about what Nancy did to him, how she broke his heart so carelessly, how she cheated on him with her friend. 

And you felt it break even more when he still wanted her, even after everything she did to him, he loved hard, just like you did, like you do. No matter what she did to him, he still loved her. 

And now, you can’t help but ask yourself the question that you have always avoided. 

Does he still have feelings for her? 

You wonder if he still wants her, if he still wishes for a future with her, if she is still the one he craves by his side. 

He doesn’t look at her the way he used to, not anymore, he doesn’t seem sad around her the way he did after she rejected him and yet, you still wonder, if you are just someone he passes time with while he hopes that she might change her mind in the future. If you are the person he finds comfort in because he can feel that you love him the way she never did.  

Are you the replacement? The filler? 

You feel yourself crashing, the water feels hot on your skin but you feel the shudder running down your spine, the goosebumps that rise on your skin make you shiver, your throat tightens and your eyes blur with tears as your heart clenches in your chest. 

You wipe your tears in anger even though your whole face is wet from the water pouring down on you, you turn off the water and open the curtain in anger, you reach for your towel and wrap it around your body. 

You wipe the fog off the mirror and look at your reflection, at the marks on your neck, at the tears running down your cheeks. 

Are you stupid for crying when you knew exactly what you were signing up for? 

You always knew what this was to him and you were satisfied with it because you just wanted him, no matter how, you wanted him and you got him. 

But you can’t stop your heart from aching because somehow, you fell even harder for him and you can’t stop from hurting when you think about what you are to him and what you might never be. 

Just sex. 

A friend… nothing more than a friend, that’s what he said, you are just a friend. 

The confidence that only started growing inside of you not too long ago begins to crumble and you don’t know how to stop it from falling apart. 

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and the thoughts that drive you mad. You take a look around, at the things he left in your bathroom, his toothbrush next to yours, his body wash and shampoo in your shower, his Farrah Fawcett hairspray that no one can know about. 

Would all this be here if you didn’t mean something to him? 

Would he have made space in one of his drawers just for your stuff if this meant nothing? 

Would he have let you in if he still wanted someone else? 

Does he even still want someone else? 

You huff in annoyance for letting yourself fall into this spiral of overthinking. You feel as though all these questions come to haunt you for pushing them away all these weeks and now you feel a headache coming and you grow irritated with yourself and with your insecurities. 

You shut them down as best as you can and busy yourself with other things, you moisturize your skin and blow dry your hair. You put on your fresh clothes and comb through your hair before you leave the bathroom, it’s much darker in the hallway than expected, the grayish clouds hide the sun and the sound of thunder rumbles in the far distance, drops of rain already paint your windows. 

Goosebumps rise on your skin and an unsettling feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach. You feel the cold wind on your exposed skin from the open window in your bedroom, you make your way inside, pushing the blowing curtains away as you reach forward to shut the window. 

Lightning surges through the sky, deep purple colors flash in the darkening clouds far away. You would’ve felt your heart dropping by now if you didn’t notice the burgundy car parked in your driveway, the door opens and he steps out, a second later, a brown paper bag in his hand and something tucked beneath his arm, he shuts the door and locks it, wasting no time to find shelter under the roof on your porch as it starts raining harder. 

Instead of dropping, your heart skips a beat, forgetting all about the pain it just felt from the saddening thoughts in your mind. 

Through all your overthinking and pondering, you forgot that he was coming over. 

You shut the window and rush downstairs, opening the door as he rings the doorbell for a second time. A frown lingers on his face but it disappears when his eyes lock with yours as soon as you open the door and a smile tugs at his lips instead. 

“Hey Blondie,” he breathes and rushes inside when you step aside to let him in, “looks like the end of the world out there.” 

“Hi…” 

You close the door and lock it before you turn around to face him. 

Steve kicks off his shoes and throws the movie tapes that were tucked beneath his arm on the counter where you keep your keys and sunglasses, he puts his keys into the little bowl and then he steps towards you and reaches for your hand, he pulls you towards him and takes you by surprise when he leans down and smacks his lips against yours, kissing you shortly. Greeting you with a kiss, something he had never done before. 

Your eyes widen a little and your throat tightens for a different reason now, you stare at him, unable to hide the surprised look on your face. 

And Steve, he furrows his brows and his smile falls a little, not because of your widened eyes but because of the glassiness in them, he frowns as worry swirls in his chest. 

“Hey,” he murmurs and lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek, “is everything okay?” 

You blink. 

Your heart jumps at his action, at the question, at the concern in his soft brown eyes. You breathe in deeply, you open and close your mouth a few times, unable to find the right words. 

You didn’t cry all that much, it’s not so visible on your face, is it? 

“Did something happen?” He asks, a little softer this time. 

You shake your head, “n-no, I’m fine, just tired, I’m probably coming down with something…” You lie. 

“In the summer?” 

You force a smile and look down, shrugging, “guess I’m not that strong…” 

“Well, then let me take care of you,” he whispers and caresses your cheek. 

You wonder if he knows what he does to you with such words and actions, you sometimes wish he knew that your heart leaps every time he does such things, maybe then he would take pity on you and not fill you with so much hope, even in your worst moments. 

You nod at him and let him take your hand back in his, he gives you a sweet smile that nearly makes you crumble. 

“So how was your day?” Steve asks as he tugs you along with him and leads you into your kitchen.

You swallow the lump in your throat and shrug, “good, I went shopping with Max and then we ate lunch with Eddie.” 

Steve smiles at that, he places the brown paper bag on the kitchen table and turns to face you. 

The soft look in his eyes and the smile on his lips makes you feel guilty for the thoughts that rushed through your mind just moments before. This side of him is the only one you have known in the past few weeks, the gentle and sweet side you never thought you’d ever get to see. 

“I got us dinner, burgers and fries but I got the fancy ones from Enzo’s,” he chuckles and lets go of your hand, stepping away from you and towards the sink. “Did you find anything?” He asks as he runs the water and uses the hand soap you always leave in your kitchen to wash his hands. 

You furrow your brows at his question, feeling a little lost and confused. 

“Hm?” 

“When you went shopping.” 

“Oh.” You nod your head, you went back to the jewelry store to look for new rings and the necklace you fell in love with but it was already gone, it would’ve looked pretty with the dress you picked out for Joyce’s and Hopper’s wedding. “Yeah, I finally got a dress for the wedding… oh and shoes… and makeup.” 

Steve smiles fondly when he turns back to you, “what color is your dress?” 

“Uh, it’s black,” you say and walk over to the fridge to grab a drink for you both, “sounds boring, right? But it’s really pretty and I got some pink heels to go with it.”

“It doesn’t sound boring,” he shakes his head at you and carries two plates to the kitchen table, “besides, you look gorgeous in anything.”

You freeze. 

Your eyes grow wide and your cheeks start burning. 

Gorgeous? 

He surely never called you that before, especially not after greeting you with a kiss on your lips. 

“T-Thanks, Steve.”

He hums in response and you look back at him to see him placing the food on the plates, putting more fries on yours than on his. His brows are pulled together in concentration, his lips pressed together, his hair looks a little messed up from the wind but he looks so cute like this. 

And you can’t help but think of how intimate this all is, him kissing you after walking in, him asking you about your day and the color of your dress, him plating your dinner.  

You can’t help but hate yourself for all the overthinking and reminiscing of the things that happened in the past. 

You close the fridge with a sigh and make your way back to the table, placing the coke in front of his plate. 

“Thanks, Honey.”

You give him a smile and sit down across from him, looking down at the delicious food in front of you, “I’m horrible, you always cook for us or order something and I never do anything.” 

Steve shakes his head, glaring at you, “you’re not horrible and that’s not true, you cooked breakfast and dinner before.” 

You pop open your soda can, “yeah, I made french toast and sandwiches.” 

“Yeah and it was amazing, now shut up and eat your dinner, kid,” he says playfully, his eyes glinting with amusement when you laugh. 

You push your hair out of your face and pick up the burger, unaware of the fond smile that tugs at his lips as he watches you take a bite. His eyes roam your face, your eyes are a little red and he can’t help but think that you lied to him about feeling sick, you look fine, you just look a little… sad and it makes him feel upset because he knows that you won’t talk about it, especially not with him but he wants to be there for you, he wants to give you a shoulder to cry on, to lean on, he wants to give you comfort. 

He looks down at the shirt on your body and when he recognizes it, his eyes lighten up and warmth blooms in his chest, it’s his shirt. 

He bites back the smile as he looks down and starts eating too, welcoming the comfortable silence between you as the rain paddles down the windows, the thunder still crashing somewhere, far away. 

You flinch every time a loud crash booms through the sky, it’s nothing new to him, he noticed it the very first time it happened. Every time the sky turns a little darker and the wind picks up, you fidget and get anxious. He wonders if it’s a fear you have taken with you from the upside down or if it is something that accompanied you before, he never dared to ask before. 

Every time he showed up during a storm, your eyes were filled with fear and your hands were shaking. You would relax and calm down a few minutes after his arrival, his presence seems comforting to you and it’s why he rushes to get to you every time he sees the dark clouds and hears the thunder. 

“Hey Blondie?” 

You look up at him through your lashes and raise your eyebrows, “yes?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

You put down your burger and reach for your drink, nodding at him. 

“Have you always been afraid of storms?” 

You seem to be taken aback as you stare at him and blink, not moving or saying anything just yet and he fears that he crossed a line. 

“I just, I noticed that you flinch at every crash.”

You always tried to hide your reactions, not wanting to seem scared or weak, and usually no one ever noticed things about you that you didn’t want them to see but Steve seems to see right through you. 

His hazel eyes aren’t filled with judgment or amusement, just with curiosity and… a hint of concern? 

You take a sip of your drink and sit back, relaxing your shoulders as you look into his eyes. 

“Yeah, I just, I guess it got stuck with me from when I was a kid,” you chuckle and roll your eyes, “I know, embarrassing right?” 

He shakes his head and frowns, “no, not at all.” 

“Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad when I was a kid, it got worse when I was a teen. My parents would go on these business trips sometimes and trusted my sister to look after me but she used those opportunities to go hang out with friends or go to parties or whatever else she was doing,” you explain, not looking away from him, “and I hated being alone, it probably didn’t help that I watched horror movies every time I was alone.” 

Steve chuckles at that, though he can’t help but feel sad for you. 

His parents left too, hell, they still do. To know that you were in a similar situation as him when you were younger fills him with regret, knowing that he could have been there for you and you for him, if he just wasn’t such a dick to you. 

“I just always got so anxious whenever I heard the howling wind and the loud thunder, it felt like the fear paralyzed me in a way… I don’t know, does that even make sense?” 

Steve nods, “yeah, yeah it makes sense.” 

But now he wonders how the hell you jumped into the water to save him, after everything that you had been told about the upside down, about the storms, about the monsters, you still jumped into the water when he was pulled under. You knew what was waiting for you on the other side and you still did it. 

“B-But how… I… the upside down was filled with storms?”

You would’ve jumped into a hurricane if it meant saving his life. 

“I wasn’t going to prioritize my fears over your life, Steve.”

Steve feels a little stunned, he knows how paralyzing fears can get, how they can hold you back from everything, but you, you didn’t care about your fears, about yourself, knowing that it could’ve ended badly for you down there, you cared more for him than you did for yourself, even when he was nothing but an asshole to you who treated you like shit. 

If he knew you, the real you, he wouldn’t have been so harsh to you, he wouldn’t have been so… cold. He would have never said a single bad word to you but he thought you were cruel and he thought you hated him so he gave you a side of him that didn’t even exist, it was an act, nothing more, nothing less and he regrets it more than anything. 

He regrets every word he said to you before this. And he feels as though he doesn’t deserve this, you, not even in this way, not after everything he said to you and about you. 

He wants nothing more than to take it all back, to make it up to you. 

And as you sit there in front of him, with red rimmed eyes that prove that you have cried before he came here, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over again.

But instead of doing that and risking making you uncomfortable, he slides his plate closer to you and changes seats so he is right next to you, he ignores the confused look you give him and the question you were gonna ask before he grabs your face and kisses you, making you gasp in surprise. 

You melt into the kiss quickly, despite the confusion that lingers in you. You place your palm on the side of his neck and kiss him back softly. 

And just like that, your worries and your anxious thoughts fade away into nothing, his touch, his kisses, he makes you forget about all the sadness that gnawed at you before, for a moment, they don’t matter and they won’t be back till later. 

For a moment, you’re allowed to feel hopeful and confident again. 

When his hand finds your waist and his lips move slowly and softly with yours, when he hums into the kiss and pulls you closer, when he makes you feel special. 

Steve’s eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and opens his eyes again, smiling softly as he pecks your lips once more before he moves back, like he didn’t just steal your breath and made your heart pound wildly. 

“What was that for?” You breathe. 

“To calm you down from the storm,” he shrugs, chuckling at his own words. 

“Why do you think a kiss would calm me down?” 

“I don’t know, I read it in a magazine,” he lies and looks down at his food with rosy cheeks and a sheepish smile. 

A giggle falls from your lips.

“Right,” he nods and points a finger at you, still smiling, “it’s scientifically proven that kisses help with the distraction.” 

“Mhmm,” you hum and nod, “right, totally yeah.” 

Instead of tears, you’re biting back a smile now, falling right back into the state you are always in when you’re around him – into bliss. 

You continue eating and you ask him about his day, you push your plate towards him, sharing your fries with him once he practically inhales the ones on his plate. He keeps on talking, the whole time you sit at the kitchen table you ate your meals alone at, he tells you all the gossip he’s heard from Robin, keeping you entertained and making you giggle, making you forget about the raging storm behind you or the pain you felt before, he makes you forget about everything. 

And you thought this would be like any other night you spent with him.

But it wasn’t.

Steve didn’t sleep with you that night, and you didn’t initiate it either. The storm was at full blast over your house, and Steve made sure to have the TV at full volume when watching the movies he stole. He mentioned Keith was busy trying to talk to a female customer and he didn’t even look at Steve when he shoved them down his shirt.

You laughed with him, giggled, and – are you the replacement? Are you really? Or are you actually in his heart?

The past tells you that you are the filler for the holes in his heart, but the present– the present tells you otherwise. It tells you that there might be a chance. His smile tells you that he likes spending time with you. The frown over his eyes when something happens to you tells you he is worried for you. The way he is possessive over you tells you that he considers you his. 

Is it foolish to believe in the present? Is it foolish to simply forget about the past? Is it foolish you cannot and won’t let go of him? Is it foolish to simply love him, with no reason at all? 

And you just know… that Billy never once said it was. 

Billy who wouldn’t want you to give up. Billy who wouldn’t want you to go back into the past. Billy who would want you to keep living in the present. Billy who would still encourage you if he were here. Billy who helped you pick that dress at the GAP to shoot your shot that day at Scoops.

Billy never gave up on your love for Steve. 

You shouldn’t either.

And you won’t.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

[kettlefire]

Not Always a Villain (DP x DC Prompt)

Alfred Pennyworth is a man who always stands on business. Despite what the world might think, Alfred is truly the scariest man within the Wayne family.

He is a man of morals, that is correct. There are some lines Alfred refuses to cross. Harming kids is one of them. However, some morals become flexible when it comes to his family.

Alfred isn't Batman. Or any of the other vigilantes under Batman's wing. Alfred is simply a butler, and that's all that matters. He loves his family, deeply and truly. If there is a day when no love is shared, that is the day he is dead.

Despite all that, Alfred is detatched from the vigilante work. His job is to be there for the Wayne family. To offer them help in any way he can. And Alfred always delivers.

Even if it goes unnoticed, just how large of a role he plays.

Alfred is content with his role, with his life. He is more than happy keeping his darker traits hidden and tucked away. Unneeded in a family like the Waynes.

That was until a new villain appeared in the scene. A young man who seemed to strick fear in the hearts of everyone who encountered him. With snow white hair and blood red eyes.

Alfred barely spared a thought to it. Barely paid attention to the chatter about this villain. It wasn't his job to. Alfred was simply a butler, and that was all.

That was until the day it happened. Damian Wayne was sent to the hospital. Bloodied and broken. A truly brutal attack.

When Alfred looked down at the young master. Bruised in a hospital bed with a tube helping him to breathe. Bandages hiding most of the damage, but the whole family knew. This was an extremely close call.

In that moment, Alfred Pennyworth snapped.

He pulled some strings and checked in a few long, overdue favors. Before long, Alfred was on his own mission. He didn't breathe a word of it to Bruce or the others.

Alfred knew they would try to stop him. Or worses, they'll try to join in. This was something Alfred needed to do. Despite being an overall kind-hearted man, Alfred still had the heart of a stone cold killer.

He failed when it had been Jason. Alfred wasn't going to fail Damian. Not another Wayne kid will be failed. Not anymore.

Alfred had been so set on doing it. In taking out this villain before things escalated further. This young man was clearly cold-hearted, willing to hurt anyone and anything.

That's what Alfred thought.

What he believed until the moment he was face to face with the young man. It had been so certain. The man was unbelievably cold. Laughing in the face of Alfred's words, only stroking the old man's anger.

That was until Alfred had landed a hit, and everything shifted.

Blood red eyes suddenly shifted to bright lazarus pit green. The cruel look in those eyes suddenly changed to a horrified guilty expression. The man had stopped the fight in an instant.

Pulling away from Alfred. Terror and guilt clear as day as the villain seemed to retreat. In that moment, it all seemed to click in Alfred's mind.

This wasn't a villain. He wasn't a monster only determined to hurt anyone in his path. He wasn't the Joker.

Even when green eyes turned red once again. Even when the young man struggled and fought against him.

Alfred didn't yield.

He slapped special cuffs on the man, removing the powers he had. Dragged the villain all the way back to the cave.

Even when the anger and recognition flooded everyones' expressions. Alfred didn't stand down. He held strong, refusing to let anyone get their hands on the young man.

The young man that seemed too much like a young boy.

Alfred pushed the crusade to help. Laid his case out. Pulled the trust card. The supposed villain wasn't the person Alfred had beef with.

Not after hour long interrogations. Getting as much information as they could. It was a struggle, but it found an end. Alfred had no qualms with this young man.

No, he quickly learned who was to blame. Who was the person who deserved Alfred's anger. Deserved to pay for what was done. Alfred had a name, and soon... Very soon, that person will be in an obituary. A name was all Alfred needed.

Alfred was going to take down this Freakshow. Even if it was the last thing he could do.

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[me-loving-woso]

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world. 

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy. 

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

—

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week. 

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.” 

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing. 

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you. 

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-" 

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

—

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work. 

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours. 

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly. 

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment. 

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly. 

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously. 

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.” 

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her. 

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination. 

[moviecritc]

Hiiii!! I saw that your requests are open so I wanted to ask if you could please write smau with Charles Leclerc dating a singer and him getting hate from HER fans and her having to speak up because it's getting out of control

please please please ⋆ charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (fc: sabrina carpenter)

warnings: hate comments

a/n: i got lazy towards the end, but i've to say that i loveee this idea

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by charlesleclerc, chappelroan and 451,231 others

yourusername The face of a grammy winner 🎺🎺🎺

I wanna thanks to all the people that were part of this little project that ended up getting out of hand, my friends and family, and my beautiful boyfriend who was the inspiration for all of the cutest songs in this album 💖

view all comments

user1 everything was going perfect until leclerc was mentioned 🙄

user2 fr i can't stand him

charlesleclerc My 🌎 I'm so proud of you mon coeur liked by creator

user3 just shut up already user4 look at him trying to deny that he only uses her for her fame in the industry

user5 i still can't believe y/n hasn't realized yet how awful her boyfriend is

chappellroan YESS, so happy for you y/n!! liked by creator

user6 omg they NEED to colaborate now

user7 i'm happy that she went alone to the event and not with that fame fucker boyfriend of her

user8 REAL

user9 i love how everyone is agreeing in hating on charles, pls don't stop

user10 she just won a fucking grammy and all you're doing is hating her bf. i can't with this people

charlesleclerc just posted!

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 23,510 others

charlesleclerc I have no words to express how proud and happy I am that you won your first grammy (of many, obviously). I love you so much, and I hope to keep being your muse for many years 💛💛💛

view all comments

user1 he's so desperate

user2 he rlly thought he ate this

user3 SHE DOESN'T DESERVE YOU

user4 nah bc y/n didn't even commented 💀

user5 you guys are so cute

user6 he's just with her bc of her fame

user7 imagine hating on a possible world champion bc his gf is more famous than him

yourusername just posted!

liked by charlesleclerc, dualipa and 823,059 others

yourusername imagine hating on us and this is what we're doing

'please please please' is out now!!! with the mv starring the one and only @charlesleclerc 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

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[allthegothihopgirls]

alfred, who writes in a journal every day unbeknownst to the bats.

alfred, who's journals aren't marked by a period of time, or his own age, instead by the names of those he looks after. when dick is first adopted, and he knows this change is permanent, he puchases a new journal, despite his existing one being only 2/3 full. this one has a simple 'richard' written with a gold accent on the cover, a change from the last 8, titled 'bruce'.

alfred, who somehow makes journaling more of a logbook, albeit still personal. he's writing about himself, sure. memories of old friends, his travels, stories he's heard, things he has experienced.

but he mainly writes of them, the things they do, how they act. their character quirks that they haven't even picked up on yet themselves. the things he wishes he could tell them as a parent, instead of butler. the things they should know about those who've come before them. the regrets he has, and changes he's making. how they've molded him into a new person.

alfred, who will take all this information to the grave. until then, they stay packed in their respective boxes, some dustier than others, in the back of his wardrobe in the manor.

the contents of those journals aren't specific to each kid. everyone's within those pages. in tim's there's a lot about jason, and damian's has a lot about bruce. nothing's overly invasive in them, and the furthest it strays from the truth is when sometimes alfred admits to believing a different set of events to whatever he's been told, and even then he's probably right.

jason, who receives his journals prematurely. there's only 2, there should have been more. it's painfully obvious the cutoff, how it wasn't supposed to end there, but still it did. he receives them post-resurrection, convinced he doesn't belong in the world. his memories of robin growing fogged and becoming twisted.

he reads them and he cries, maybe it's because he forgot how much good there was in those times, or maybe it's because that's the determining moment in his new life where he decides that he really deserves and wants to live, because his existence runs deeper than being the robin who died.

frankly it's quite jarring for jason, to read about himself from another's perspective. as much as i love the idea of him and alfred getting along the best out of all the kids, he definitely distances himself for a while to process everything. he slowly creeps back though.

no one else gets to read their share until alfred's gone, and when they do it goes unspoken, no one pries to know anything outside of their dedicated journals.

jason, after hesitance and much internal conflict, drops off his own on dick's nightstand one night. receiving them back, two weeks later, is a silent affair face-to-face.

tim, similarly, on no one's accord but his own, gives jason his, to keep. he says something about how he doesn't think they were ever about him, and they seemed much more like a sequel. he also apologises, and mentions how he almost felt like he was intruding on something. but he understands now, he doesn't clarify about what.

[pinkyqil]

Low

Alexia putellas x r

Summary : alexia being all mysterious and all and we have r who's straight up eating it all,I suck at summaries but enjoy !

Author's note : olga definitely doesn't exist in this dimension hope y'all enjoy this fic and I hope you have a great day 🫶🏾💗

© PINKYQIL

You and your friends decide to go out and celebrate barcelona wining the champions leaguefinal. Even though your football knowledge was down the drain you would never decline a good time.

especially with how she's been yapping about how it the first time they won all quadruple and you guys needed to celebrate it as if you we're both on the pitch playing with team when they won it all.

But nevertheless you would stil be going out either way.

What you didn't expect was to meet half the team at the exact same club your friend was all excited and loud which got the attention of many but you held her back reminding her that they we're celebrating not a fan sign event.

The whole time at the club you felt someone eyes on you not in a creepy way.

but in a different type of way that you couldn't explain but you ignored it nothing wanting to spoil your enjoyment. a few moments later everyone in the club got louder and hype as carol g was playing meaning you we're yelling every single lyrics from the top of your lungs.

and before you knew it you found yourself on someone's shoulder everything was happening unexpectedly.

but you weren't complaining you recognized a few other player's on there friends shoulder and getting passed around in the club.

Until later on when you got passed to someone else shoulder which felt frim. You could definitely tell that they must workout everyday from the way they had you on there shoulders.

But you soon felt bored and got down unknowingly you heard a female voice speaking to you what you didn't expect was to be facing one of barca captain's especially alexia who caught you by surprise.

You spent the whole night by her side taking shots after shots both your body's moving to the rhythm of the song.

she made you feel some type of way and you loved and craved for it but once it all came apart you knew that you couldn't have her even though any one present could tell you both desires each other.

It all came too an end but alexia had pulled you over by your waist before whispering something and handing you a pices of paper as the trace of her touch slowly went low.

"my place next week". she whispered before pulling away and leaving you in shambles.