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#proofreader needed
malulurivers · 10 months
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editing notice
so, with summer hanging around, I'm itching for things to do. since I really like editing and proofreading, I figured I would offer up my services to anyone who needs it!
I'll proofread anything at all, even for a fandom I'm not particularly involved in (though that would absolutely help, I'm willing to research stuff!). as for editing, I'll do it for a fandom I'm accustomed to (which is a lot, even if I don't post about them too much). I'm also happy to help proofread/edit anyone's original content, it doesn't have to be fandom stuff! I've got a lot more experience with that anyway which may come across in my own writing a bit idk.
I'd like to earn a little bit of cash eventually, with emphasis on the 'eventually', so that wouldn't be right off the bat (especially if it's a small thing!). I just genuinely really enjoy proofreading, I find it really satisfying, and I want to be a part of a writing community and help out where I can! as the proofreading-editing part is usually the not-so fun part ':D
anywho, if you're interested feel free to dm me!
~ malu
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rinokumura89 · 6 days
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Hello, I’m currently 17 and a novice editor. I would really appreciate if any fanfic author (or any author in general) who’s looking for a proofreader, copy editor, and/or editor would reach out.
I really enjoy reading and proofreading; since I’m just getting started I would be doing it for experience not money.
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rxdidz · 8 months
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hiii 🙈 can i req zoro getting into a fight over reader? either someone said something about her/flirted with he, doesn’t matter. thank uuu i love your work <3
˖ ݁ ˓ — he gets in a fight
ft. zoro roronoa
a/n : thank u ahhhh 😽😽 this was cute to write
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he groaned as you dabbed the alcohol-soaked cotton ball onto his forehead, “that hurt.”
“well you should’ve thought about that before getting into a fight, he was only saying that to get on your nerves.” you stated, reaching behind him to grab more supplies.
“what was i supposed to do y/n?” he sighed.
“don’t punch the dude! we were supposed to be—”
“he said things about you once you left.. it was a pussy thing to do.” he muttered, you let out a frustrated huff. “i know, thank you for defending me, but i don’t care about what other people say about me.”
he gritted his teeth at the sudden pain “plus, we were supposed to have fun tonight. there was no fighting! but you let that guy ruin it.” you stopped to look at his reaction for a moment.
“y/n.” he pauses. “i’d do anything for you. even if it means fighting some guy, i’ve fought worse than him” he laughs but your still serious.
“c’mon, im sorry.” he sounds desperate. your breath hitches, you don’t know what to say because you want to be mad at him but how could you be? he was so caring.
“thank you. all better.” you smile at him before sitting beside him and leaning your head on his shoulder.
a comfortable silence fills the room, he eventually leans his on yours and you can hear the rest of the crew on the top of the deck. your thoughts wander. “zoro?”
“yeah?” he meets your gaze. “what did he look like?” you question, a small grin spreading across your face. even if you were upset about it, you knew he won.
he chuckled at the look on your face, “worse than me, he definitely has something broken.” your jaw drops and you playfully slap him. “zoro roronoa! are you kidding?”
“hey, i did what i had to do.” he shrugs. “and you only got hit in the face?” you question.
“well..” he repositions himself so he’s facing you more, “the one on my lip really hurts.”
you smile, “really?”
“yes, i think a kiss will help it.” he glances at your lips before his hand cups your cheek, finally closing the distance between you two. your lips meet an you close your eyes, leaning into him. one of his hands slid down to your waist to hold you even closer to him, feeling the warmth of each other.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months
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this is loosely based off of @emmyrosee 's messing with sukuna post bc i just love the idea of messing with your whiny baby dramatic boyfriend and i immediately thought about katsuki ! if you want this taken down lmk !
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katsuki is hilarious to mess with.
you've only been staring at him for about 5 seconds when he turns to you.
"whaddya want ?" he asks with a raised brow. you're still all smiles, resting your head into your palm
"nothing." you hum, he grumbles a bit but doesn't pay it any mind. until you keep staring. he's trying to focus on his phone but you can tell he's about to snap when he starts squinting at the device.
"what ?" he grumbles, red eyes narrow at your smile widening.
"nothing !"
"yn. don't fuck with me."
"i'm not !" you giggle " i'm just looking at you, am i not allowed to ?"
you know exactly what to say to fluster him without fail every time, it's something you're most proud of when you see the tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink.
"..no."
you snort "no ?"
"shaddup." he says through gritted teeth "so what, you're just lookin' at me ?"
"yeah." you shrug "i like lookin' at my pretty boyfriend." you prop your head against the couch and sigh dreamingly to sell the lovesick act. katsuki inhales through his nose, chest puffing like he's upset and he tsks, ears and cheeks beet red.
"weirdo." he scoffs, then grabs the back of your head to pull you in and press his lips to yours roughly.
you're both breathing heavy when you pull away. he looks at you, mouth slightly agape as he heaves lightly, eyeing you from your eyes to your lips. and then he huffs through his nose like a bull and roughly pulls you into in chest, causing you to release an 'oomph !' at the force when he flops down onto the couch, pulling you with him.
"m'not pretty." he mocks your voice and you huff a laugh into his collarbone. you wiggle around and your boyfriend loosens his hold a bit so you can look up at him.
"you so are !" you argue, he won't look at you but narrows his eyes at the tv he'd turned to to distract himself from your gaze.
"nah, that's you, babe." he switches through the channels "thought you said i was handsome last week."
"you can be pretty and handsome at the same time, the proof is right in front of me." you flirt, he looks at your from the corner of his eye and his mouth curls up like he smelled something nasty when you wink at him.
"gross."
"you're blushing~" you sing, closing your eyes and laying your head onto his chest, you sigh happily when he starts rubbing up and down your back instinctively.
"go to sleep. m'tired of listening to you." he pushes your head down into his chest jokingly and you giggle. you can't see the smirk growing on his face from where your being shoved into.
you wrestle out of his hold to look at him to see he's already staring at you, half smirk on his face and he scoffs at your expression, you huff through your nose and your smile widens.
"you love me." you whisper knowingly, katsuki takes the hand off of your back to pinch at your side and he snorts when you squeal.
"unfortunately."
you yelp when he wets his lips and he captures yours in a sloppy wet kiss.
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dizscreams · 1 year
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can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where hobie swings to his friends apartment and knocks on her window and the reader has to patch him up and hobie is just kinda quiet because he hates people caring for him (he doesn’t want to be seen as a burden) but reader assures him its fine and maybe hobie confesses to her? <4
COUNT ON YOU
— Hobie Brown ★
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PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader
A/N: DISCLAIMER I’ve never read a single Spider-Man comic in my life, this is PURELY based off of what I saw in the movie. THIS IS VERY VERRRYYY OOC BUT enjoy! :)
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You were finishing up on homework, even though it was 2 in the morning. It wasn’t uncommon for you to stay up late to finish your assignments. It also wasn’t uncommon for your best friend Hobie to knock on your window injured.
You took off your headphones and looked to see where the knocking came from. You saw the familiar Spider-Man mask with spikes staring back at you through the glass. He was holding his side and his mask was a little beat up. You quickly got up and opened the window for him. “Hobie? Are you alright?”
He climbed inside your room and ripped off his mask, throwing it somewhere on the ground. “Yeah, just peachy,” he said, his voice was low and very clearly sarcastic. You frowned and gently grabbed his hand, “C’mon lets get you patched up.” He stepped back and took his hand away from your grasp shaking his head. “No, it’s alright.”
“Hobie, you’re bleeding. Lets go,” you told him firmly. Before he could respond you grabbed his hand and started walking to the bathroom. You flicked on the light and pointed to the toilet seat, “Sit.” He groaned but didn’t argue against it, he knew better than to argue with you this late. He could see the bags under your eyes as he observed you grabbing the first aid kit.
He sat down and you walked toward him, placing all your supplies on the bathroom counter before looking over at him. His face was cut and he had a wound on his side. You grabbed a rag, you ran water over it before kneeling in front of him. “You’re lucky it isn’t that bad, I’ve definitely had to help you with worse,” you chuckled looking up at him.
He only nodded in reply which you thought was weird but didn’t question. You focused back on cleaning the wound, luckily it wasn’t deep, but you could feel his burning gaze on you. You knew he didn’t like getting cared for like this but he was your best friend, it was basically your job to help him. “You know I want to help you right?” You asked softly, breaking the silence.
You looked up at him seeing a look of confusion on his face. You explained further, “I mean you don’t have to feel bad about me helping you all the time. Your job is dangerous and I’ll always be here help you out.” You offered him a small smile and he snickered, “You’re corny.” You playfully hit his knee and the both of you fell into a comfortable silence with small smiles on both of your faces.
You took a dry towel and dabbed at his side. Once you cleaned it you put on a bandaid. You stood up and smiled proudly, “There!” He nodded and stood up, about to walk out until you stopped him. “Wait-” you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down on the toilet seat. “You still have a cut on your face.”
“Just a small one, it don’t matter.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’ll treat it anyway.”
He glared at you but nodded, deciding that you might as well since you already cleaned his other one. He hated getting help and he hated people telling him what to do but he couldn’t help but let you. He wasn’t proud of it, honestly he was slightly embarrassed. But as long as he never admitted it out loud, he would be okay.
Except for the fact that he wanted to tell you how he felt.
He wanted to tell you he’s attracted to you and that he’s thought of being more than friends with you but he didn’t know how you felt about him. And it wasn’t like him to talk about his feelings, even to you. You began running the wet rag across his cheekbone gently. You made sure to wipe the blood off and clean the cut.
You noticed Hobie gulp and you looked at him, now noticing your close proximity. You smiled softly to yourself and continued your work on the cut. You grabbed a bandaid and put it on his cheek. Hobie slightly shivered at the contact but got up as soon as you were done. “Alright, cya later.” He walked out of the bathroom and went into your bedroom quickly.
“Woah woah woah, wait a minute,” you called out for him. He stopped in front of the window and turned around to look at you. “You’re just gonna leave? Not even a thank you?” You asked. He pointed at you, “Thank you, now goodnight!” He turned around to the window again but you pulled his arm and pulled him back to face you. “What’s gotten into you? You’re acting weird.”
“Not that weird.”
“Pretty weird.”
He tossed his head back and huffed out a breath. You raised your eyebrows waiting for him to give you a clear answer. He slowly lifted his head back up to look at you. He stepped a fraction closer to you, now close enough to able to feel your body heat. He examined your features for a moment before shaking his head.
“Nothing. Night.” He swiftly grabbed his mask off the floor and opened the window. “Bye Hobie,” you said quietly. He looked back at you and then forward again. He put on his mask and in a flash he was gone. You flopped on your bed and covered your face with your hands.
You stayed like that for a moment thinking about the interaction you just had. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and pulled the covers over you, ready to sleep. What you weren’t aware of was Hobie peaking his head to look into your window. It was too late to tell you about his feelings now, so he’d tell you another time! Probably in a year or two.
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aq2003 · 8 months
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doctor who said hahah yeah we're gonna make the tenth doctor a guy that gets so deeply and utterly attached to the people around him and one by one he watches them leave and it drives him to a complete breakdown as he gets his heart broken over and over again and keeps causing harm to those around him and then finally he has a conversation where someone tells him that they want him to live actually, that he's a wonderful person and he needs to make the decision to save his own life along with the rest of humanity's. and then when the battle is over and for the first time in so long he laughs with real relief and joy that he's alive and that he's happy that he's alive, he has to sacrifice himself for the person that gave him that reason for living back. he dies alone and scared and desperate to cling onto the love that shaped his identity and the pain that resulted from it. And all i have to say on this is that i need to strangle rtd with my bare hands
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astraystayyh · 8 months
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hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat. very suggestive so mdni. inspired by the song strangers.
"you want me to tell you how this will go between us?" you whisper, as hyunjin's nose brushes against yours softly.
"please," he says just as quietly, his thumb grazing your bottom lip in an agonizingly slow manner.
"we get in your car..." you begin, fingers reaching up to trace the contour of his face. so pretty for you. "and you'll lean to kiss me..." you let out breathlessly, and a curious smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth.
"like this, you mean?" he says, before pressing your lips onto his softly. you sigh, as goosebumps rise upon your skin. he tastes so sweet, so addicting. you missed this little game you both had on.
"what next?" he questions, eyes still closed, chest heaving from the emotion coursing through him.
"we'll talk for hours..." you gently wipe the corners of his mouth, now tainted with your cherry lipstick. "and we'll lay on the backseat."
"oh, yeah?" he smiles, his dimple peeking on his right cheek. adorable, if not for the fact that he's lowering you on the said backseat now, before hovering over you. his arms are on either side of your body, caging you in, not that you'd ever dream of escaping.
"and then one random night, when everything changes, you won't reply..." you pout, as you entwine his golden necklace between your fingers, tugging him slowly towards you. "and we'll go back to strangers."
"is that what you think will happen, pretty? that I'd forget you?" he asks, his thumb brushing against your cheek tenderly. then your chin. then the curve of your neck, down to your collarbones. it's a featherlight touch, but the anticipation of what it might turn into is killing you.
"won't you? forget me, i mean?" you grin cheekily, as you interlock your hands behind his neck, bringing his face, much, much closer to yours.
"i won't," he says with a sincerity that catches you off guard. "not when you're you."
a newfound emotion tugs at your heartstrings. it's not lust, no, this is... warm and nice and you don't want to dive into it, into the consequences of what it might change between you both.
"well, i don't know. maybe i will be the one forgetting you," you smile teasingly, as his necklace dangles over your face.
"then i have to give you something to remember me by, don't i?"
"you do," you sigh dreamily, as his lips suddenly suck on the tender skin of your neck. your hands are tangled in his soft black hair, and you know you're lying. you couldn't ever forget him. not when he's hyunjin and you're in the backseat of his car. and his plump lips are on you alone.
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lookingformoondrop · 7 months
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Hiiii! Thanks for writing for tcoal! If you have time can I get a yandere Andrew x reader? Thanks :)
Sure thing~ Once again, it seems highly unlikely that Ashley would let this obsession slide, so for the sake of the story, she's been bliped. Happy (late) Halloween! <3
Yandere! Andrew GravesxReader
TW: Yandere themes, possession, obsession, murder, implied kidnapping, intimidation, stalking, Andrew has a foul mouth (Y/N too), not proofread
♡1,438 WORDS♡
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Andrew Graves has a mask.
It's a very well crafted mask that's used to blend in with his peers, his friends, his girlfriends, his parents, and even himself.
It covers the dark parts of Andrew that even himself is too terrified to look at.
For if you look into the abyss, it looks back at you.
But when he met you, swinging back and forth at the playground swing, he could've sworn he heard something crack.
You were beautiful.
As he watched you, with the breeze blowing at your cute overalls and baggy shirt, god, so pretty.
Your smile could open the gates of the heavens. Your laugh could make rainbows last, your tears would be prettier than diamonds, and you in his cage would bring him closer to your hell.
He couldn't help but imagine you as some sort of art. Something valuable that wasn't ever to be touched by another person. Only seen by him, just him.
His mask cracked the more he looked at you.
That day started a life-long obsession.
He would venture to that park a few more times after that, until eventually introducing himself to you. Naive you, who believed him to be a kind and stoic person.
You weren't wrong, but it was your fault for thinking that's all it was.
Even if Andrew never admitted it to himself, the thought of you being his and ONLY his made his heart flutter.
How when you breathed, when you walked, when you spoke, when you laughed, it would all belong to him.
Those thoughts kept him awake at night, even if a light blush would always dust his cheeks.
As time went on, he learned that his dakmfk thoughts that he pushed to the back of his mind would only resurface when a man talked to you. Even a father-figure was enough to put him in a foul mood.
Andrew didn't say anything, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his blood boil.
"Andy? Are you okay? You've been glaring at the ground even since we walked past Mr. Mancho."
"Why do you even like him? He's so...weird," Mr. Mancho was an innocent looking math teacher, one that always smiled at the students. And yet, Andrew hated the fact he smiled at Y/N...he didn't like that very much.
"Weird? He's been pretty nice to me...," You scratched your chin in deep thought, "do you not like Mr. Mancho?"
Andrew looked up at your doe eyes and heard something crack again,
"...he keeps looking at my things."
Andrew justified his growing hatred.
Even as you shrugged away his weird moods whenever you talked to cousins, friends, and teachers, Andrew never lacked as your friend.
Through every obstacle, he'd be there to help you jump over them. Although he'd complain about jumping in the first place, he'd never leave you.
He'd care about your issues, he'd care for your wounds, and he'd listen to your problems.
Especially when you were bullied.
The keyword here is 'were'.
While in school, a boy had groped you. When confronting him about what happened, his friend group laughed at you, claiming that you were just making shit up for attention.
This had made you cry when you got home.
Something that Andrew instantly knew about...somehow.
"Jesus Y/N, what happened?"
"S- Some boy touched me, and- h-he then said I was just making it up for attention! My friends all believed him a-and I," you broke down in sobs as your day was retold to your best friend.
As you continued to share your day with Andrew, he remained completely silent.
Several times throughout the call, you'd check if he was even still on. Still, when you called out for him, he'd answer with praise for trying to stand up for yourself, no matter what they had said to you.
You didn't know it then, but Andrew was squeezing his pack of cigarettes so hard that by the time he had gotten off the phone with you, they were all broken.
The next week, when you came to school, authorities were there questioning all the students. When they came to you, it was explained that the boy who groped you was killed and stuffed into his parent's basement freezer. Along with his friends, who all mysterious died in the forest, with some sort of satanic pentagon painted beneath their bodies.
You told the police you knew nothing, and all your friends who had doubted you came to you in an instant with apologies.
When you had told Andrew everything that happened he had only said,
"How strange."
As the years went on and you grew older, your friendship with Andrew always stayed strong.
Andrew would never say it, but when he kissed your cheek or patted your head, he was screaming,'I love you.'
But his dark thoughts, the ones he kept far back in his mind, would only double.
"Andy! Guess what happened today?"
"Hah?" Andrew turned his head from his spot on the couch.
"This cute boy at my job said he would love to take me out to dinner sometime!" You smiled brightly at the sly possibility that your bad streak with love would finally be over.
Every guy that ever walked into your life promptly bolted for the door the moment you opened it.
Andrew always told you that those guys just didn't appreciate you enough and that someone who bolted just like that was a quitter. Ashley?
But even then, you never gave up. Despite the long list of guys who ghosted you randomly.
"Oh...you said no, right? "
"What?" You walked over to Andrew from the door of the apartment. "Why would I say no...?"
Andrew looked at you with a dark shadow over his face, "Y/N, there are millions of creeps and perverts that are going to ask you out. They're only leering at you for your body."
You frowned at this notion,
"When you go to your next shift, tell him you don't want to anymore." Andrew thought for a moment and then shook his head.
"What's wrong?"
Andrew looked at your confused eyes.
"Just realized I have to get up early tomorrow to take out the trash."
When you went back to work the next day, he had quit just as suddenly.
Sad and upset over the millionth guy that ghosted and dumped you, you'd sulk to Andrew. Who would always make you warm cup of tea.
"Dumbass, you just keep picking quitters. It's not because of you."
"But Andy, I haven't had a boyfriend in years! At this point I'll die alone, probably with you right there to bury me with my hundreds of cats."
Andrew laughed at that and reached his arm around your shoulder.
"Just wait a little longer Y/N, I'm sure there's some jackass out there waiting for you."
"Yeah, right." You smiled at Andrew, "You're the only jackass I know, though. "
You leaned your head on Andrew's shoulder and began to fall to sleep rather quickly.
"The only...jackass...in my life... Andy, I'm sleepy."
Andrew took a sip of his tea and placed the cup far away from your drink.
"Rest Y/N. When you wake up, you'll have me right there besides you."
"Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you, you're my best friend."
Andrew patted your hair as you drifted off to a drug-induced slumber.
"Yes, I'm your best friend," Andrew stared off to the distance as he thought about it.
"Soon, your only friend," He nodded at that statement, "Yes, the only friend you'll ever need."
His mask, although long forgotten, had finally cracked open.
You were his. Like a forbidden piece of art, it belonged to him. He was your painter, and as the painter, he declared you to be covered up. Only his retinas were allowed to peer at you.
It's your fault he went through all this effort to keep you safe. He's obligated as the painter to keep his art safe from dirty influences.
He's mildly disappointed in you whenever you speak to another man, but it's okay. It's his job after all to stalk the said man and hack his tongue off for even going to speak to you.
No matter how many guys he has to threaten, no matter how many people he's had to hack at, no matter how many people he's had to kidnap, it wasn't his fault.
It's yours.
All the blame is on his sweet, naive, poor, Y/N.
Still as innocent the day he found you at the playground.
"Still mine..." He mumbled as he stared at your sleeping face.
"Only mine."
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Thanks for the ask!<3
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 11 months
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Why would you—That's not—I just wanted to ask for help, why did you have to go and make it awkward???
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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diana-thyme · 1 year
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Magic For The Disabled
A few things that I do when I’m at my lowest. Made specifically for disabled people, but anyone can do these! See this post for low energy witchcraft ideas not directly related to disabilities.
Enchant your blanket for a good night’s rest
Enchant your coffee/juice/water/NyQuil/whatever you’re drinking to aid in recovery
Enchant food to aid in recovery
Place sigils around to aid in recovery, memory, etc.
Keep relaxing herbs/stones/etc. around
Cast a sleep aid spell (I have a bag with lavender and amethyst hanging on a bedpost)
Cast a recovery spell (I have another bag with a variety of protection and rest herbs and crystals)
Enchant fidgets or objects used to stim to calm you and to never break
Use energy magic instead of physical spells.
Use art/writing/etc. magic! Draw sigils, deities, write spells, recipes, shopping lists, etc.
Stir and infuse good energy/banishing into teas or coffees.
Keep some supplies nearby (i.e. tea lights, a lighter, grimoire, oils, etc.).
Use showers, washing of face/hands, etc. for cleansing.
Brush out the bad energy when brushing your hair.
Ward health aids or mobility aids against breaking and bless them to work quickly and well.
Use apps or websites for sigils, spells, etc. (VirtualCandleSpell for digital candle spells, Craiyon for sigils).
Keep room sprays near you and bless them to serve a certain purpose.
Make emoji/song spells! Use corresponding emojis and charge them with intent. Use corresponding songs, put them on a playlist, charge them, and listen to it whenever you want to cast it.
Use makeup/skincare as glamours.
Use sunscreen as protection!
Use wax warmers and melts instead of candles.
Use oils in diffusers instead of candles or incense.
Enchant anything you use daily.
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thesunisatangerine · 5 months
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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: none (im pretty sure)
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 5.8k
The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting. 
When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes. 
“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.
“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”
Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.
“And you’re beautiful.”
No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.
Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.
But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.
And what a sight the two of you must have been. 
In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so. 
Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead. 
“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection. 
With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation. 
“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’ 
When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you. 
“That was mortifying.”
Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”
“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”
Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other. 
“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.
“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.
“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”
“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”
She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.
Another pause. 
“I think I should go.” 
Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.
“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”
At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”
“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”  
“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”
The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.
“Call me later?”
You nodded.
Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door. 
The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement. 
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?” 
Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.
“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”
Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”
“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.” 
“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.” 
You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.
“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?” 
“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”
“About what, ladybug?”
“Going back to the Academy.”
At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”
Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”
You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected. 
“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”
Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”
“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours.  “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”
Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?” 
“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest. 
“Yes.” 
At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.” 
After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?” 
Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?” 
“Are you together?”
“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”
“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent. 
“Did I really?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”
“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”
“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”
“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”
Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”
Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back. 
“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”
At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed. 
True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway. 
“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.
“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”
Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased. 
“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish. 
“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?” 
Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.
“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement. 
Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.” 
She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over. 
“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”
“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”
Alexia shook her head.
You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.” 
At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.
Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”
Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”
After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever. 
At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives. 
About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.
“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.” 
In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.
“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?” 
You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”  
Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”
“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry. 
“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh. 
So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips. 
After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.
You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.
“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.
“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.
Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.
The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.
By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.
It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped. 
You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.
There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.
It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.
“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.
“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”
“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”
Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”
“I’m making us feel old.”
The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”
The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.
“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"
You nodded. She continued.
“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”
You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.
“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”
She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”
You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”
Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.
“Wait, are you being serious right now?”
You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”
Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”
“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.
“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”
Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.
“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.
“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”
With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.
The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.
“Time to go?”
“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”
You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.
“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.
Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”
On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.
After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.
With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”
“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”
Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.
At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy. 
You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’
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loguetowns · 1 year
Text
the one that (almost) got away
roronoa zoro x fem!reader
it takes him 12 hours to realize
3.6k words
a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops
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9:00 pm
“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”
you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.
“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”
zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”
“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”
crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.
“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”
zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.
“you’re such a pretender, eh?”
zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”
at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.
“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”
“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”
you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.
you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.
zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.
“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”
now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.
“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”
“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”
“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.
“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”
zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.
“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”
zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back. 
you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.
whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.
everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.
“of course i can.”
12:00 am
raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.
these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.
zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.
“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”
zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”
“seriously! you guys are insane!”
as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.
you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.
“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”
you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”
“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”
you look at zoro quizically.
he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”
it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.
“you’re disgusting!”
you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”
you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.
perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.
when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.
but zoro doesn’t care.
drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.
3:00 am
“and what’s that one?”
hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.
“what is this - a pop quiz?”
you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”
zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”
you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”
“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”
walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.
“alright, let’s see what we got here.”
zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”
his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh. 
“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around. 
your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.
now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.
“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”
pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.
“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”
“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).
“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”
zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.
almost.
“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”
zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”
“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”
“slander is what this is.”
“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”
“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”
“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”
embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”
“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”
“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”
it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.
moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.
at least, not yet.
so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,
“i guess not.”
6:00 am
if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.
the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.
he's never been more glad to still be in bed.
your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.
your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.
he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”
eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.
zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day. 
if only he could.
you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.
you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.
“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”
he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”
“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.
you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.
because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.
“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.
you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”
“who do you think you’ll miss the most?” 
you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.
you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath. 
“sanji.”
he blinks.
“wait, are you serious?”
you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?
 “silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”
“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”
zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.
"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”
“wouldn’t what?”
“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”
and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession. 
but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there. 
it’s a shame that he’s out of time.
you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,
“will you miss me?” 
more than anything.
9:00 am
surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?
zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.
and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart. 
should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?
zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.
“well?”
startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.
“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.
“told her what?”
“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.
he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying. 
he loves you.
and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.
he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-
fuck.
he loves you.
and he never told you.
epilogue — 9:30 am
sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.
you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.
“zoro! what-”
“can you help me first?” he splutters.
you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.
“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.
“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”
“y/n.”
“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”
“y/n.”
“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”
“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.
in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.
because you know that this will change everything.
“hades and persephone.”
“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”
“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”
you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.
quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”
“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”
your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.
the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.
the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,
i love you.
1K notes · View notes
katelynnwrites · 2 days
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so kiss me | laura freigang
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warnings: f for fluff
word count: 748
summary: laura asks if she can kiss you, provided that frankfurt finishes top three in the league
a/n: a little blurb in honour of laura freigang fc making it to the uwcl 😊
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it’s after frankfurt's loss to leverkusen in march, when everyone begins to doubt if they'll be able to make third place that laura makes a bet with you.
that if your club do qualify for the champions league, she can kiss you.
frankfurt makes it. despite all the odds, your club makes it.
you sorta think the forward’s forgotten because she goes through the entire post match celebrations without mentioning it.
you don't know if you're disappointed or relieved.
barely a half hour after you make it home, your phone chimes with a text from laura.
it reads, 'are you too tired?'
you hesitate wondering what she is up to before replying, 'no?'
her response comes quickly, 'great! open your door please?'
with wide eyes, you do as she asks and it reveals the smiling blonde outside your apartment.
'lau what are you doing here?'
the german woman in question winks, 'as you know i made a bet with you...'
you blush and she continues, 'and since we did qualify i was thinking about the kiss you owe me.'
'the kiss i owe you? i recall the conversation quite differently lau. more of a you asking me if you can kiss me if we finish third in the league.'
laura tsks, 'semantics.'
you roll your eyes with fond exasperation, 'still doesn't explain why you are here.’
the blonde grins, 'right so as i was saying before you so kindly interrupted me, i was thinking about our kiss.'
despite what she just mentioned, about you interrupting her, you do so again, 'our kiss? we haven't kissed yet.'
'exactly! we shouldn't just kiss without at least having one date. that's why i'm here...to ask if i can take you out on a first date.' laura finishes shyly and you stare at her in surprise.
'it's almost midnight schatz and you didn’t say anything after the game so i thought you forgot.’ you whisper.
'the late hour doesn’t mean my feelings for you lessen and there’s no way i forget anything about you. the two goals i scored tonight were just for you.’ she murmurs, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.
it's so cute that you can't resist leaning in to press an affectionate kiss onto said blush.
'okay. okay let's go.'
'really? cause i was prepared to do a whole lot more convincing.' laura rambles in disbelief.
'schatz if you don't shut up, i'm going to have to kiss you to make you stop.'
the blonde goes quiet but smiles brightly at you.
'our date first. then i'm going to kiss you.'
'more than once i hope. because you're not the only one with more than friendly feelings lau.' you murmur.
laura if possible, looks even happier.
'as many as you'd like.' she promises and eagerly takes your hand in hers.
and the striker doesn't disappoint.
she takes you to get ice cream at a twenty four hour dessert place and teasingly steals spoonfuls of your ice cream whenever you're distracted.
which is easy when you’re sitting opposite the laura freigang, the most beautiful person you have ever seen.
she’s got such mesmerising blue gray eyes and her blonde hair frames her face perfectly.
the german woman is in a simple sweatpants and hoodie but you think you might fall in love with her.
when she takes you back to your apartment, she draws you close to her by placing her hands on your waist.
‘close your eyes.’ she barely audibly murmurs.
you listen to her, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.
still, nothing can quite prepare you for the moment laura presses her lips against yours.
tentatively at first but far more confidently once you melt into her and bring your hands up to cup her face.
right there and then, you are certain that falling in love with your fellow eintracht frankfurt player is inevitable. she’s just that special.
the feeling seems to be mutual because the striker readily accepts your invitation to come into your apartment.
it’s in your bedroom that she fulfils her promise entirely, sharing kiss after kiss with you.
intimate ones, teasing ones, ones that have you gasping her name, she holds true to her words.
as many as you like is what she promised you. as many as you like is what laura gives you.
for tonight at first and then for the rest of your life as she goes from your crush, to your girlfriend and eventually to your wife.
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German Translation:
schatz - sweetheart
166 notes · View notes
hxltic · 1 month
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Heya!
First of all, I just wanna say that your stories/writing skills are AMAZING, I’m absolutely obsessed with your page tbh <3
I do wanna request another Megumi smut fic, if that’s okay. Maybe one where the (fem) reader is pretty anxious about getting intimate, but he gently talks her through it iykwim
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Thank you so much pretty, and it’s perfectly okay.
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You’d been thinking about it all day. So much so, that as your feet patter on the square tile of the kitchen in your shared apartment, you realize that instead of retrieving the parmesan out of the fridge, you’re pacing back and forth.
But then, every aspect of intimacy throttles into what you thought was a confirmed decision. It then splits it apart, leaving you conflicted when you thought you were done contemplating it.
You were ready. You were more than ready.
What if your ph wasn’t balanced? What if it’s not everything you dreamed of? It’s been a while since you’d actually shaved, would that turn him off? Should you wear something different? Can you even be seductive without being unable to take yourself seriously?
You shake your head at the reeling mess of hypotheticals, somewhat hoping the action would disperse them so that they dissipate into the air. Forcing one foot in front of the other with a sigh, you go to the opposite side of the kitchen, and take a seat on the stool at the bar top after plating your dinner.
And then you’re maybe two bites in before the front door’s lock rattles, clicks, and twists to invite nobody other than your beloved boyfriend in, returning from errands.
He effortlessly carries three bags of groceries in one hand, unintentionally showcasing the rings wrapped around his fingers. The other holds another two bags. He shuffles into the house, closes the door, and greets you, raising the food up high enough to rest it along the granite.
“Hey, what’s up? You made dinner early?” He stocks the milk into the refrigerator.
With a final chew, you place the fork down and rest your chin in your hands. “Yeah, I thought you told me to?”
He nods with a small curl of his lips, “I did. Told you to stop waiting up for me.”
You hum in response. It’s pretty quiet after that, just you two in each other’s presence as a couple, until he’s done with his task and gets a plate of his own. Of course, he comes to sit right beside you, but not before moving your hair out of the way and providing a gentle kiss to the forehead first. You smile, but not as bright as you usually do. He inspects your distant expression.
“Are you okay?”
Your eyes find his. You can tell he’s trying to think of anything that could possibly be wrong—something he forgot, or something he did. It’s almost instinct for your heavy emotion to lift temporarily when anyone asks this question, giving you the appearance of an excited puppy. “Yeah, yeah! I’m good. Just,” you shrug, “thinking.”
“Tell me what’s on your mind.”
You definitely have his full attention, but when he takes a bite of his dinner, he can’t help but comment on how good it is. Meanwhile, you’re slightly able to feel heat rising to your cheeks. “Uhm…I don’t know. I don’t really know how to explain it.”
By this point the smell of the food is rising into your nose from below, long forgotten as your fingers rub circles into your temple.
“Try. I’ll piece it together,” he reassures. You’ve been trying to work on your communication, as is he, but he’s usually succeeding far more at it than you are, you have to admit.
“Uhh, fuck. I’m…” It’s already difficult to convert thoughts into words, let alone thoughts like these. Oh yeah, Megumi, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for a while now. It’s even harder when you can feel him staring dead at you with those tender eyes, just waiting patiently for an answer. “Ready to take our relationship— further?”
Your shoulders haunch up protectively when you turn your attention to him, whose eyebrows are furrowed a bit, attempting to comprehend what you just said. It then looks like it hits him, but he inquires anyway, “Further, how?”
You pout, “Are you going to make me say it, Megumi?”
The man wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what you were asking for. But the culpability of being incorrect would make him feel like the worst person on the damned planet, and this would tell you that he was “hoping” you would say something about sex. He knows you. It implies that the topic was on his mind beforehand, ultimately enhancing the pressure since you then would know he was thinking about it.
But truth be told, he wasn’t. When you said you wanted to take it slow, he was completely okay with that. Of course—there’s no denying the amplification of his hormones when you’re fresh out of the shower, walking around braless in a large tee, shorts, and wet hair—but it was never enough to push you into something you weren’t ready for. It would never be. All he had to do was take a shower, whether extra long or cold.
“Are you sure? You do understand that, no matter what, you come before your body, right?”
“Of course. You’ve always made me feel safe, and I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t done the thinking. I’m just nervous, I guess? I want it to be good for you, but I haven’t really done this before.”
“I guarantee you, there literally isn’t anything you could do that would make it a bad experience for me.” His smile spreads a grin to your features, lifting your mood a little. “And you don’t have to be nervous— I’ll be there with you the whole time. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
“Finish your food. I know you’ve had a long day and you need energy for the scandalous acts you’ve committed to,” he adds. You giggle at the joke, suddenly feeling lightweight from the anchor that he’d single-handedly lifted off you.
Only to leave as quickly as it came because that meant you had to get ready for tonight.
——•——
After taking one more shower before he took his, you’re already in bed after dinner, curled up watching the light from the tv fill the room every time you change the channel. The smell of strawberries and coconut bounces off you, probably now into the fibers of the bed, and you’re as smooth as a baby. Everywhere.
The door to the bedroom suddenly opens, revealing Megumi with a towel draped low around his waist, hair fallen, dripping all over the carpet, and cut abdomen a distraction from whatever show you had playing.
The best part about having had that conversation is that you don’t have to conceal your feelings or the throb between your legs anymore. There’s no guilt from knowing the two of you will only get to kissing, desperately trying to find some friction.
Megumi leisurely walks over to the closet, entertained by your low eyes trained to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t even notice his amused gaze. “Can I help you with something?” He teases, eyebrows dipping into a smirk.
Your eyes finally shoot up, but you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed. “Maybe.”
He chuckles, opening a drawer to grab some sweats. “We just talked, like, an hour and a half ago, and you’re already about to pounce on me.”
“Oh please— tell me you don’t feel the same way.”
You carelessly throw the remote down. Megumi disappears, then reappears, pants on and ruffling the towel to dry his hair. When he finishes, he comes to his side of the bed, pinches your chin delicately, and tilts it up to him. His voice was lower, and velvety sweet. He knew he could ask you to do anything if he spoke like this.
“You know I do.”
The ravenette allows you to kiss him softly, but he keeps it short. It’s just enough for a huff to leave your mouth when he pulls away. “We don’t have to do this tonight. There’s no deadline for me to be inside of you,” he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.
You’d think he was talking about taxes with how casually he said it. Now that was what embarrassed you. “Right. Yeah.”
You force a smile to your face and turn away, going back to the tv, trying your best to ignore the growing heat in your stomach and the sudden disappointment of your work going to waste.
He observes that you don’t actually look satisfied, and was instead shuffling and moving awkwardly. To be fair, he knew what it looked like when you were horny.
“Unless, of course, it was what you really wanted.”
Then you look to him, and when he slowly pans back at you, knowing you took the bait, he immediately understands the severity of how you feel by the undercurrent of desperation in your eyes. You seemed to need him. His eyes slightly widen.
You didn’t just randomly want to have sex with him; it had been growing over time. Every kiss, lick, and touch began to lose its fervor when you’d already known the outcome— when it would stop. You’d just finally been able to vocalize it.
“Come here,” he opens his arms up to you. The bed bounces when you throw the covers off and crawl to him, resting atop his lap and clearing his view to the tv. He didn’t mind; he has a better one.
The friction you get from his legs, pathetically, has you shifting before getting fully situated. His hands come to rest in the dip of your hips to keep you still. But he knows.
“You understand that I love you...”
It was said declaratively, like he was sure, but just in case he was wrong, you could speak up. His eyes carried a kindness to them and his cushiony voice melted your brain. “I do.”
“And you understand what you truly want? You’re sure I’m who you want to be your first?”
You nod. “And hopefully my last.”
“Then I want you to know that anything after this,” he waves his hand in a circling motion, “You are in complete control of. Tell me to wait, I will. Tell me to stop, and I’m sure as hell pulling out, taking my hands off you, whatever, all in an instant. And don’t feel bad about anything you say to me. Ever.”
Soaking in the lecture, being unable to ignore as if they were terms and conditions, makes you fathom how serious this is. He’s speaking earnestly because you did before, hence when you begged to take it slow the day you started dating (he confirmed he didn’t mind, but you truthfully didn’t believe him as per past relationships). In this heart to heart, you looked into his dark blue eyes, wondering how you managed to find someone like him that would wait a million years for your trust.
“Okay. Likewise, I want you to teach me. That way in the future I can be better at what you like.”
A finger comes to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear as you mindlessly fiddle with your thumbs. “You are what I like, beautiful.”
And then you can’t resist feeling the sight in front of you, the same one the pads of your fingers have memorized from repetition, so with a featherlight touch, your hands separate and design delicate swirls into his v-line, trailing only up to about his belly button.
You love seeing his muscles contract when he twitches since everything he does seems to send a shiver down your spine.
Widening your fingers as they rise, they stretch the span of his chest. There’s a low hum when you make sure to lightly drag your nails across his skin, reminding you to shift your focus to his expression. He was already staring at you through his eyelashes.
Your lips find his in the slowest, most sultry manner you can control. Both hands card through his semi-damp locks, quickening his breath alone, while his take rest at the band of your sleep shorts. And just when you think he’s going to slip his fingers through the silk, he grabs you with a firm grip and rolls over so your back is to the sheets, leaving you still pawing at his nape.
The experience increases in heat as it does speed. You were smothered with his presence but you wouldn’t have it any other way. He connects your lips one last time before he parts to share his kisses on other spots of your body, including your jaw, collarbone, and once he gets the thin shirt you’re wearing off— your chest.
And he does just that, peeking up at you first for confirmation you two share the same idea. You answer by lifting and helping him tug it off.
You reach your hands up past your ribs to the swell of your breasts, massaging them, unable to look him in the eye.
“Look at me.”
Well fuck.
You do, and just then he’s placing his free hand over yours, ultimately pilfering its spot entirely, and taking his time to lick around the bud, swirling it into his mouth. It’s his first time hearing the whine that came out of you. He will hear it again.
He does the other the same, hardening the peaks only to leave them be with a conclusive squeeze. “Do you like that?”
You manage, “Yes.”
He kisses down your stomach, leaving a hum in response, and drags his fingers down even further to ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Lace?”
“Yeah, for you.” You shiver at his touch.
His thumb circles over your clit as his chin tips down to shift his eyes around the garment. “How long have you been planning this?”
“It started last week.” Your chest rises and falls when you giggle, it ultimately dissolving into a breathy moan once he applies a deeper pressure. “I took a trip to the mall.”
There’s no response. His hand draws up to the sides of your waist, pausing to give you more slow, endearing kisses along the band.
“I wore it so you could take it off, Megumi.”
“Great.”
And just like that, he’s sliding it off you, down your thighs and throwing them elsewhere behind him. “Can you open up for me?” He coos.
There’s a coil beginning in your tummy, and you aren’t exactly sure if it’s because you’re already throbbing or if the embarrassment is just now settling in. No matter what, you just want him to do something. You spread them.
He groans at the sight of you. Bare.
“Fuck, you’re something else.”
With some hint of friction to stabilize himself, he shifts his hips against the bed, then he dips his head into your center.
You’ve thought about what it would feel like when he “eats you out.” Would it feel slimy and trigger your sensory issues? Would you squirm in disgust or ecstasy? Would it feel like anything?
And now, you finally have an answer, because after the swipe of his tongue on your inner thigh, there’s a warmth you associate with the muscle of his tongue dragging between your lips. Involuntarily, you do begin to squirm.
He does it again, sealing his mouth over you. The unpredictability of where you will feel him next is thrilling despite being now sat up lazily on your elbows.
There’s no doubt it’s making you feel something and it’s starting to gather. So much in fact that the sight of his angled nose and eyebrows between your legs may be too much to handle. You don’t render it as pleasure quite yet though.
“That feels kinda weird,” you mumble honestly. The rumble of his chuckle surges through your stomach as he pulls his face away for only a moment.
“Here,” he utters, and you’re expecting him to do something to help when he shuffles, but suddenly, a single finger prods at your wetness until it’s sinking seamlessly. “This is something you’re familiar with, right?”
Immediately, a gasp forces itself out. You’d done it yourself before so he wasn’t wrong, but when it’s him toying with you and his long finger, it’s a little different. “Mhmm.”
Now he’s really pulling the noises from you. He curls the one finger experimentally; Left, your hip twists. Right, your breathing picks up. Straight up, and your back arches.
He doesn’t take his time sucking up your clit and anything you release for him, the lewd sounds his mouth creates enough to support that, but how can he help it when he thinks about how bad you wanted it? He’s gotta make it count.
On that note, his tongue drags up from your hole to the nub and his head shifts to the side for a better angle. At the same time that he repetitively curls his finger into the spot he observes you like best, he slurps your clit, only to release it wetter than it went in and do it again. There’s a messy sheen of saliva and your slick coating his chin and a dot on his nose.
His palm snakes around the thigh he isn’t practically laying on to your lower stomach and rests it there so you feel everything but tenfold. It wasn’t to keep you still; he likes the chase.
“That feels s-so good, Meg,” you praise, watching his thick eyelashes flutter open when you speak, but somehow still looking like he has no idea what you said. The tingle was getting stronger and stronger, now converting to a hot fire resonating just under his palm. He adds another finger. One of your hands that wrapped around your breast drives into his dark locks. “Oh God—”
When he groans at the feeling is when your body tenses and cinches up, holding onto him for dear life, chasing something not quite too far, but the contorted countenance your features hold instantly lets him know how you feel.
“Let it go, I got you.” He speeds up the finger gyrating through the cushiony walls.
“Megumi.”
“Come for me, baby.”
You relax just enough to feel the entire distant, solitude of your orgasm; but at the same time, it didn’t feel lonely at all. He was right there, quite literally fucking you through it, but it didn’t feel lewd or sexual at all. It was the first time you’d felt anything like it.
It was like you were somehow spiritually connected as well and emotionally and physically, and there wasn’t anything to separate you from him as every ounce of your being was woven together.
Fuck, you’re already this sentimental and he hadn’t even put it inside yet.
Returning back to the Earth was as hard as it sounds, but the fall is a lot easier when Megumi is there to mitigate it.
On the other side— when you release the iron grip of his finger, he can finally remove it. The only sound in the room is your own heavy breathing.
“Are you okay?” He wipes his chin carelessly.
“It kinda felt like... like I was dying. But good.”
“Perfect, that’s what it’s supposed to feel like. Do you want to keep going?”
“Yeah.”
He nods in approval. Anxiously, your feet rub against each other. His hands trickle around his waist as he slides off the bed, but he notices the staring just before he kicks his pants off.
Instead, he comes around to the side of the room, near the bedside table, only propping a knee up on the comforter to get closer so he can ease you into what he’s about to do next. “Give me your hand,” he suggests.
Without thinking you oblige, but your curious eyes blow wide when he begins to lead it onto his lower abdomen and deeper until both of you, in one movement, are smoothing over trimmed hair and down the length of skin. He was obviously erect beforehand, pressing through the fabric as if needing an escape, but feeling it is something else. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he cups your hand and drags a slow stroke all the way up to his tip and back. Similarly, he releases a shameless, airy moan of his own.
He does it again, and again, then feels that you’ve gathered enough confidence to do it yourself. Which you do—by the time he lets go, you’re already fully wrapped around him and feeling what you can’t see. You follow what he did.
His body slightly moves when he facetiously laughs, but it somehow removes the nerves and duplicates simultaneously.
“What?” You blink up at him.
“Nothing. You’re just so delicate with it.”
“Shut up. I’ll rip it off.”
“Please do,” he laughs once more, bringing an imminent smile to your face, and then he moves to push his pants down his hips. You can’t help but stare at his length in your hands.
He was right, you seemed to be barely gripping him, right before the tip. It was a smooth descent to the shaft, colored a muted shade of pink.
You pop back into reality. Squeezing, you earn a grunt. It was slightly harder to move now. There were only a few ways to lubricate his cock that you had on hand, and the best way that you had been curious to try is right next to it already.
You correct your positioning laying sideways on your elbow, the other hand curled around him, and he almost recoils when you stick your tongue out and look up for his reaction as you press your head forward. A deep sigh flows from his chest.
It wasn’t bad, and didn’t taste like anything, so you do it again, enclosing your lips softly over his tip. He wanted to let you explore so he stayed silent.
You had began to bob your head to cover some distance while trying not to choke yourself, and that’s when he gives the instruction, “Breathe through your nose. Don’t stop breathing.”
It does make it just a little easier as you keep going, but not much, so you pop off and roll your hand around his slick cock now that it was wetter. You sit up completely, tracking the other hand to his balls, praying it’s a myth that boys don’t feel anything there. Hopefully, it will make up for your sensitive gag reflex. “Sorry,” you mutter.
He holds his hair up with his arm, the other hand brushing through yours. His eyes are barely open and accompanied by a darkness brewing inside his pupils. “What did I say?”
You search over your brain for the memory. “Not to feel bad.”
“Yes. And don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t even know how fucking close I am to exploding.”
With that, he removes himself from your hold and reaches down to swiftly grasp your ankles. Yelping, you come sliding down. His pelvis is connected to your ass.
His lips can never stray too far from yours. Just when you’re expecting the deep fervor from not having ever gotten this far, or maybe just having not kissed since you were perched atop his thighs, he resonates his love in the cloud-like puff of his lips. Just when you begin to moan softly while placing a hand on his cheek, he pulls a few inches away.
“You ready?” He rubs over your clit a few times with his thumb. “What do you want me to do? Condom? Birth control? Both?”
You fidget underneath him, shoulders raised high and cheeks reddening. “I’m on birth control. Can you wear one anyway though?”
Your little voice as if he would have any type of negative reaction hurts his heart. “Of course.”
Just as he turns around, you add, “there are some…uh… in my purse.”
“In your purse?” He quirks a brow, smiling.
“I told you I’d been planning this…”
Moments later he returns with the small packet in hand just to rip it and casually roll it onto himself. His eyes focus and his brows furrow.
“Hmm.”
“What?” You sit up. Finally, you spot the problem, most importantly, how the base of the plastic stops about four fifths of the way down his shaft.
“What size did you get?”
“I don’t know. I asked for whatever the average was.”
“Have you no faith in me?” He lightly presses you back down to your back. “Do I look average to you?”
No.
Not like you knew, but you could imagine.
“We’ll make it work. Hold on to me,” he assures. You do just that in an attempt to run away from the embarrassment and link your arms around his neck.
Before you know it he’s patting your dripping pussy, lining himself up, tipping his head up to nip at your neck, and prodding at your entrance.
“Oh shit,” he hears you under your breath. He didn’t mean to laugh, but it slipped.
“What? You scared?”
No reply.
“It’s okay, you’re in charge. Take a deep breath.”
When he feels you inhale under him is when he takes the chance and inches in, pulling a gasp from your lungs right into his ear. Both of you curse at the same time. “Megumi.”
“Breathe, baby.” He inches in farther, not quite bottomed out yet, but closer. Your back raises from the duvet. “You’re almost there.”
One more deep breath that you have to actually, manually breathe out, finally has him buried inside you to the hilt. “Good girl.”
You were delirious. You wouldn’t be able to believe what is actually happening if it weren’t for the uncomfortable throb below you. It didn’t burn; it was just a pinch from the stretch, which is the best case scenario from all the ways you imagined it would go. Wriggling around to try and speed things up, you were unknowingly killing the man above.
His breathing picks up because, fuck, you were so tight, and whoever said the condom takes away some of that is a fucking liar. Or maybe they weren’t, and if you ever allow him to, going bare might just be on his headstone. You were latched onto him with all your might both on the outside and the inside.
“Tell me—”
“—You can move.”
You accidentally cut him off, but before you can feel bad about it, he’s pulling out, slowly but surely, and turning up your eyebrows when he returns.
A few more of these, a few more “are you okays” from Megumi, a few more of your nods “yes”— and the pain dissipates. Your hums dissolve into low moans that wisp against his neck.
“Does it hurt?” He lifts his head and looks down at you cautiously, searching for pain.
“I’m okay Meg, you’ve asked a thousand times.”
“Do you want me to speed up?” His hands change from your hips to your thighs, then to your legs. His body language portrays that he is nervous. He’d been so focused on you that it slipped your mind how he felt. What better way to calm him down than to get him riled up?
“You’re saying you’ll fuck me now?”
It seemed to work perfectly. His eyes blew wide for a split second hearing your voice say something so demanding and vulgar, but he raised his chest high, took a mean grip around your hips, and pulled all the way out. When he presses in, his hips have a small curve to add some distance, and persists like this with increasing speed. The sound in the apartment grows.
There’s a constant movement from the bed going back and forth because of the rhythm he set. With each thrust your jaw drops further. There wasn’t unimaginable speed, but he was pounding against the fat of your ass each time. One of his hands finds your bouncing breast.
“When did you get so needy?” He asks. He wasn’t even grunting or anything, just very accurately moving his hips so his cock stretches the length of your walls.
“When—”
His fingers quickly squish your puffy cheeks together while he bends over close to your face. “Don’t answer that, smartass,” he pecks you on the lips.
The familiar warmth was building within you. Your arms reach up to connect around his back, locking him to your figure and keeping the angle of his thrusts low. You were already finding ways that you liked. Him not too far and his pelvis running against your clit as he grinds. Somehow, you manage to shake him off your face.
Not even to say anything, just to squeeze your eyes shut and release useless words and whines into the atmosphere with your red cheek to his shoulder. He did catch one word though, “closer”, and even though you cannot possibly be any closer than you are, he would try until you’re satisfied.
Testing your flexibility, he hikes both your knees up until they’re almost touching the comforter below and brings them together. This initially makes you feel farther apart with a barrier called your own legs, but then he leans forward on his toes so far that it pushes you deeper into the bed and his nose less than a breath away from yours. He curls his arms around your legs and lifts your head to dig his fingers through your hair before allowing you to rest your head again. How you’re balled up makes you feel so little.
No, to him, you feel more than little; the closeness of your thighs squeezing together removes a significant amount of space on its own. He gazes deep into your eyes when you whisper “There.”
He hadn’t moved yet, but he could conclude his tip brushed past it as he was trying to get situated. It doesn’t take long for him to find the patch again by the way your eyes flicker back and forth in front of his. The his hips lift, and he relies on gravity to slam him back down.
“Fuck!” You squeal, twisting your waist to no avail with his weight atop yours. He hits the spot dead on. “Hngh, m’ gonna come s-soon.”
He has an aggravating look on his face like none of this affects him but you know it does. The twitch of his cock says so. “Oh yeah? Can you feel it?”
“Yes! Yes—stop teasing.” The words come out slightly muffled by your scrunched up position. He continues pounding down, the squelch and slapping of skin loud in your ears. It felt like he was reaching your belly button. Every now and then a grunt would push past his mouth.
“But I’m not. Are you sure you haven’t already? You don’t hear that? Or is your pretty pussy just that wet for me?”
You could hear it along with the creak of the bed, but none of it matters when he comes forward, just a little more, to taste the swell of your lips, catching all of your moans in a sultry kiss. “Meggg,” you whimper, eyes hanging low and fresh painted toes dancing in the air though every thrust.
“Yes?”
He wasn’t supposed to actually reply, but he only did because he knows you’ll provide an answer if he wants you to. You croak, “Please don’t stop,” to both him and the universe.
“That’s not something you want, beautiful.”
And you take it just how it is— a warning, because now that he’s had a taste of you, he’ll go until sunrise. He glances down to where you connect to a somewhat cleaner situation that when he was buried between your legs the first time. It was wet, no doubt, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Push against me.”
What? Is what he takes the way your eyes peel open as.
“Try to push me out.”
When you finally understand his advice, a light groan turns into a full on cry of his name. He immediately regrets it because you tighten around him, removing the already little space necessary for him to move, almost making him spill on the spot while dragging your nails down the span of his back. He hadn’t known that was what would set you off. Oops.
“Damn,” his brows dip together and his head drops to yours. He decides to suck on the thin skin of your neck as you, like he asked, try to push him out, as well as the rest of the silky white he has clogged. Of course, he was pushing back with just enough strength. Your face was turning red with how hard and unexpected your orgasm hit.
Now, a few more thrusts (that are more deep grinds) to ride out your high is enough to tip him over the edge. He grabs the base of his cock as he pulls out quickly, making sure to hold on to the plastic. Despite how tired you are, you still feel empty.
The second he’s out, he rips the condom off, soothing the skin of your leg with one hand and the other wrapped around his length and quickly twisting the tip. Huh, you were being delicate, you realize.
Watching through deep, weighty breaths as he works himself, it takes everything in you to sit up on your own and wait patiently. It tells him all he needs to know by your posture.
He finally groans loudly, nothing to your volume though, cursing over and over when your hand comes up to knead his balls as the white comes out in spurts all over your chest. It was mostly your breasts, but some tainted your collarbone and chin too.
He finally comes back to Earth sometime later and wipes away the spot on your chin with his thumb before it drips.
“Fuck, sorry,” he breathes.
Before he can get too far, you wrap your lips around the pad of his thumb, sucking it and more off. You get all the way to his bottom knuckle, smiling as you watch his eyes zone in on the action. You remove yourself with a pop.
In case you didn’t know—yeah, he was hard again.
©️hxltic
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theghostinyourwalls · 3 months
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Cake
William Afton x Wife!Reader
Tags: Smut, unprotected sex, food play if you squint, fluff, slight dubcon, daddy kink, pet names, praise kink, fingering, kissing, romance
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY GUYS!! This is my first official fanfic on tumblr hope you guys enjoy it <3
It was Valentine’s Day and the house was filled with the sweet scent of freshly baked goods. The clock on the wall showed that William would be home soon. You spent the majority of the day baking cookies, tarts, and cake to surprise him. Just as you finished assorting the sweets into a beautiful display, the door was swung open and promptly slammed closed. The sudden loud noise made you jump.
“William?” You called out for your husband, but there was no answer. A small shiver of fear ran down your spine. He usually responded to you when he’d get home. “William?” You called out again, this time turning around to search for him. A small yelp leaves your lips as you come face to face with the man. “Jesus Christ! You scared me!” You clutched your chest as your heartbeat returned to normal.
He still hadn’t said anything. His face was almost completely emotionless. His eyes were dark, his shoulders ridged. He looked stressed, tired, hungry even.
“Honey, is everything okay?” You asked, concern etched onto your face.
Instead of answering, he slowly approached you. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed the top of your head before pulling your face up to his. His lips lightly brushed over your own before you finally leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was gentle and soft. His hands began to travel lower as he slid them over your ass and lightly squeezed. It made you gasp against his mouth, which he took to his advantage as he slipped his tongue inside, tasting you. The sweet innocent kiss quickly turned into shameless desire as he pulled your body even closer. His hard length pressed against your stomach as he continued to kiss you.
You pulled away from him, breaking the kiss. He looked at you, his eyes were heavy with lust. “I need you,” he panted. He spun you around so that he was behind you, trapping you against the counter. His hands found their way underneath your skirt. His fingers traced the waistband of your panties before dipping them inside.
“Wait! Not yet!” You squeaked out as he made contact with your center. He groaned into your neck as he felt how wet you already were for him. “William!” You tried to sound stern, but ultimately failed. He ignored your pleas as he gathered your slick onto his fingers. He teasingly rubbed circles over your clit and watched as you tried to resist him. You couldn’t help but gasp as he pushed his finger into your pussy.
“Shh, it’s okay baby. Just let me have this,” he whispered into the crook of your neck, his finger sliding in and out of you. He added a second one, his ring finger. The cool sensation of his wedding ring against your wet heat made you shudder. He began to thrust them into you at a steady pace with his palm pressed against your clit. The warmth in your abdomen began to intensify as he brushed his fingertips against that spot deep inside you. He quickened the pace of his fingers along with the pressure against your clit, making you whine and buck your hips against his hand. The pressure in your abdomen came to a peak surprisingly fast. Your body shuddered, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. His fingers continued to move inside you as you rode out your high. “That’s it. You're such a good girl for me,” his speech was slightly slurred as he ran his lips along my neck, leaving behind a path of kisses and hickeys.
There was a brief moment of silence as he retracted his hand from you. The only sounds that could be heard were your soft pants as you caught your breath and William beginning to undo his trousers. You realized what was going to happen and you tried to deter him. “Wait, William we were supposed to- '' You choked on your words as his cock pressed against your ass cheek.
“Bunny, you know I can’t stop now. I need to feel you around me,” He almost sounded apologetic as he rutted against you in desperation. Before you could protest any further he pulled your panties to the side and aligned himself at your entrance. “Besides, I know you love it when Daddy stretches you open with his cock.” With that he slowly pushes into you. He only made it halfway in when you clenched down on his cock, your walls quivering around his shaft. “It’s okay baby, you can handle it,” he whispered, his voice was low and soothing. You tried to relax your overstimulated muscles and allow him to push deeper into you. With one more thrust of his hips he bottomed out. He was so deep that you could feel him pressed against your cervix. Small muffled groans and gasps escaped William’s mouth as he felt you completely surround him.
Slowly, he withdrew from you only to thrust back into your tightness. His pace was slow at first as he took his time fucking you. Your back arched against him as he continued to hit that sweet spot over and over again. It wasn’t enough to make you cum though, you both knew it. He held your jaw in his hand, pulling you to look back up at him. “You want me to fuck you like the good little girl you are?” You nodded eagerly at his proposition. “Then show me how much you want it.” You leaned further over the counter and pulled your skirt up to give him a proper view of what exactly he was doing to you.
“Please, can't you see how wet I am for you. I need you to fuck me harder, Daddy please. I can’t take it anymore, I need to cum on your cock.” With a satisfied hum of approval he began to fuck into you faster. His hips slapped against your ass as he harshly thrusted into your tight cunt. His hand snaked around to your front, finding your clit. He teased the sensitive nub, tracing light circles around it. Your body writhed at the feather light touch as you tried to push back against his hand, craving more friction. He gave into your desire for more and placed his fingers on either side of your clit, roughly rubbing them against you. He pushed your upper body down towards the counter, where the cake you baked earlier sat. You tried to push yourself back up, but he easily overpowered you. The buttercream frosting smeared onto your cheek. You normally would’ve been angry at him for ruining your creation, but at that point you couldn’t care less. Your pussy throbbed from his brutal pace and you could feel the tight knot in your abdomen begin to release. You knew he was close too by the way his cock twitched inside you. His cock brushed against your sweet spot one final time before you came. Your pussy tightened around his cock, rhythmically pulsing as white hot pleasure consumed your senses. Your body seized up as you felt the peak of your orgasm. A soft cry of pleasure escaped your mouth as you came on your husband’s cock. He groaned as your walls contracted around him, pulling him in deeper.
“That’s my good girl,” William grunted out in between thrusts. His pants became more and more labored as he sought his own release. You couldn’t help but smile when William, who usually tried to keep his noises contained, let out hiccuped whimpers as he came inside of you. His hot cum filled you to the brim. He stayed inside you for a while just catching his breath and enjoying the warmth of you before pulling you to stand up straight. You leaned back against him for support as he pulled out of you, leaving a small trail of cum that trickled down your thigh. He quickly pushed your panties back into place to try and keep as much of his cum inside you as possible. He tucked himself back into his trousers and spun you around to face him. He looked at the frosting smeared over your face before looking over your shoulder at the mess he made of your cake.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. It was supposed to be a surprise.” You chuckled as you looked at his expression. His face was filled with love and admiration for you.
“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry I ruined the surprise. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He leaned down and kissed you tenderly. He held your face in his hands after breaking away from the kiss. He turned your face slightly and licked some of the frosting off of your cheek. You giggled at the gesture and tried to push him back. “Mm, tastes amazing sweetheart. I think I have an idea.”
“Hm?”
“How about I leave, come back in and you can surprise me just like you wanted to. How’s that sound?”
You laughed at his silly plan, but agreed to it anyway. “Alright, then this never happened okay.”
“It’ll be our little secret.”
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fleetways · 1 year
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Chapter 14: Preparations
get snowed on idiot
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