#thank you so much irene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unstable-samurai · 22 days

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Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

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You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

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twice-inamillion · 15 days

Text

The Company

New Assistant

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, creampie, whinging, rough sex, ass spanking, little aftercare, slave contract)

Chapter 17

3975 Words

(It’s time for a new assistant with Irene getting busy with her new girl group. Luckily she has a junior assistant in training that is due for a promotion. As her new boss it is required for you to welcome her and break her in.)

The office has been busy since returning from San Francisco. Multiple meetings with project managers, clients, partner companies, and personal meetings. You previously met with JYP and suggested a survival show with the trainees from his company. He mentioned it would give it a twist when it comes to the creation of a girl group.

At first, you were hesitant, but after much discussion about what it would look like, you decided to get on board. You even considered adding Mina as a contestant since you were confident in her skills.

The only thing remaining would be to inform the trainees about their participation in a survival show, so you and JYP decided to hold a meeting with all the trainees.

The meeting went as you suspected; the trainees were nervous about their participation. The younger trainees saw this as a way to prove themselves and increase their chances of debut, while the older ones voiced their disapproval.

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and especially Jihyo were angry at JYP for even suggesting the idea after their failed attempts at debut.

Jihyo cries from disappointment, with the other two comforting her, knowing how much they have worked for these past few years.

The meeting ends, leaving a sour taste in your mouth, not knowing how to react. You should have gone with your gut, but it's too late to change your mind, and only for the best outcome.

When you get back to your office, you discuss things with Jieun (IU) and understand the situation. Being closer to them, she has learned a few things and has learned how disappointed 3Mix would be with their recent failed attempt. They assumed that switching companies would have an easier path to debut, especially Jihyo, who has been in training for the longest time among the trainees in the company.

“I can’t back out.”

”I understand, sir, but try to be a bit understanding.”

”I’ll try.

The room is silent; you can feel the tension in the air and ask, “What’s next on the agenda?”

”You have a meeting with Irene to discuss about Miyeon.”

“When is that?

”Later today, it's your last meeting.”

”Thank you.”

———

You hear a knock, “Sir, it’s Irene.”

”Come in.”

”Thank you.” She stands in front of you with folders in her hands, waiting for you to look up at her.

“Take a seat.”

”Yes.”

”Let’s get to the point. How is she doing?”

”At the beginning, she had a bit of an adjustment to her new schedule. She asked a lot of questions but began to pick things up at a reasonable pace. I also made sure she continued her education and decided to pursue higher education.”

”That’s great. Seems like these few months have been good for her.”

”Yes, I tried not to give her so much at the beginning and slowly increased her workload. Now that I’m in my group, she makes my duties easier.”

”Do you think she can take over your duties once you get busier?”

”With the basic stuff, yes. I haven’t even her any sensitive information yet.”

”Let me ask you one thing. Do you think she can be trusted?”

”She hasn’t let me down. So yes, I think she can, but I can't promise she won’t make a mistake.”

”Jieun suggested a contract like the two of you have as assurance.”

Irene looks perplexed about Jieun's suggestion, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

”No, that’s a great idea. I should have mentioned it sooner.”

In reality, Miyeon has grown on Irene throughout their time together. Hearing about binding her into a contract like the one she is in saddens her as she knows that Miyeon’s freedom will be stripped.

“Here are her files, sir.”

You read over her report, the things she’s helped Irene with, and her newly gained skills as an assistant. You opened her health file and noticed that her birthday was recent, “Oh, she just turned eighteen. How nice.”

Irene clenches her fist, seeing your grin. She understands what you’re thinking and is disgusted by it.

”Yes, I bought her a birthday and a small dinner together.”

”That’s sweet.”

”Thank you, sir.”

You close her file and say, “Thank you for the report. I’ll have IU put together her new contract and set up a health check for Miyeon as soon as possible.”

”Is that really necessary?”

”I would have thought you would be happy. She’ll take over some of your duties unless you want her to?”

”No, I’m grateful,” but she just felt sorry for Miyeon.

”Okay, you can go now.”

Irene exits your office, defeated, and heads to meet her members in the training room.

——-

It’s been a few days since your meeting with Irene, and now Jieun and Irene are meeting with Miyeon.

She’s nervous about the meeting, hoping it's about her effort as a junior assistant.

She is greeted by Jieun and escorted to the conference room you use for private meetings.

“Irene unnie, good morning.”

”Good morning, Miyeon.”

They sit and discuss Miyeon’s position as a junior assistant. It’s most of what you and Irene talked about a few days ago, but now it comes to the main part. Irene mentions that she believes Miyeon can take on a larger role within the company. This makes Miyeon smile and happy about her efforts being looked at after her mistake a few months ago.

“Irene and I would like to consider you for the position of one of the CEO’s personal assistants.”

Miyeon looks surprised and at Irene sitting across from her, “Does that mean that I’ll be working in the same position as you, unnie?”

Irene replies, “Actually, I’ll be taking a small role since I am trying to focus on my group, but you’ll be working closely with Jieun.”

Jieun interrupts and asks, “What do you think? Would you be interested in the position?”

Miyeon immediately replies, “Yes, I’d love that. I want to prove myself to everyone here after my incident a few months back, so I would love to do my share.”

”Great, that’s the sprint,” says Jieun. “We figured you would accept, so I brought up a contract for the meeting. You know, just to make this official.”

”Yes, of course.”

She goes over the contract and covers the position as the CEO’s assistant, as well as some benefits.

”I talked to CEO-nim, and he said that you’ll be getting a biweekly salary and spending money.”

Miyeon looks at the contract and is surprised by the amount, “Oh my god, isn’t that too much?”

”He wants to make sure you’re comfortable.”

”Thank you so much.”

”Of course. Also, this section talks about you moving in with the CEO and assisting in his daily needs, like taking notes, setting up meetings, getting his dry cleaning, making sure he has his meals and other miscellaneous things.”

”Oh, I’ll be living with him?”

She looks at Irene, worried, and Irene responds, “We’ve all done it at one point, mainly at the beginning. Once you get out of your probationary period, you will have the ability to move out to your own apartment like we did.”

“Oh, I get my own apartment?”

“Irene says, “Yes, like the one we live in. The CEO provides it for us.”

”Okay, I’m excited.”

”Down below are some of the perks that come with the job.”

Miyeon looks at the list and is surprised by the amount of perks, each better than the previous one.”

”Where do I sign?”

Irene interrupts, “Wait, we also want to let you know that this job comes with sensitive information, so confidentiality is required.”

”Yes, I understand.”

”Are you sure? Would you like us to give you some time as you read over the contract to make sure that everything is okay?”

Jieun gives Irene a side eye, signaling to not step out of bounds.

She turns the numerous pages and skims over the large letters that talk about job expectations, payment, sickness, insurance, dental, memberships, education opportunities, a termination clause, and other issues that are in fine print.

“Where do I sign?”

Jieun points at the numerous blank spaces that require Miyeon’s signature. After signing about ten pages, she gets to the eleventh page and asks, “I have fully read and understood the content of this agreement. I sign this document entirely of my own accord without any enforcement and accept any consequences if the agreement is violated or broken.

Irene tries to get Miyeon’s attention, but Jieun stops her, allowing Miyeon to give her final signature and stamps her Dojang (family seal) as a signed agreement.

A tear falls from Irene, knowing that Miyeon has sealed her fate as your newest toy. “Unnie, are you crying?”

”Sorry, it's just that…”

”Irene is just happy for you, that's all.”

“Aww, thanks, unnie. I’ll make sure to make you proud.”

Irene feels like she’s about to cry and says, “Oh wow, look at the time. I have another commitment to get to. I’ll take my leave, but Jieun will continue with your onboarding.”

”Thanks again, unnie.”

Irene walks away and exits the room, leaving Jieun and Miyeon alone. Jieun asks Miyeon if she has any questions, and they continue to talk for a while. Most questions are about the role and about the chance to debut in the near future. Jieun replies that anything about her debut is up to the CEO, but she and Irene can answer questions about the job.

Jieun then takes out a folder with Miyeon’s name on the front, “I have your health file right here. It shows that all shots are up to date and have no signs of illness; they are practically healthy.”

”Yes, I take care of myself.”

”It shows.”

Miyeon giggles at the compliment when she hears Jieun ask, “Miyeon, are you still a virgin?”

”Ehh?”

Surprised by the question, she tries to calm herself before answering in a shaky voice, “Ye… yes, I am.”

”Just wondering. Since of your previous mistake.”

There’s a moment of silence, causing Miyeon to feel nervous, but Jieun changes the conversation, “I’ll submit the paperwork today, and your new badge should be ready for tomorrow. Also, begin packing, and I’ll send someone to pick up your items in the morning.

——

Miyeon has spent most of the night packing her belongings. She tried to talk to Irene but never got home. Waking up, she sees a message on her phone from Irene saying that she ended up crashing at her member’s dorm after practice and will see her later today.

Miyeon hears a ring and sees it’s the workers from the moving company. They help take her belongings to the CEO’s condo, where Jieun greets them. She escorts you to your room, which is much bigger than the one she was in previously.

After unpacking the necessities, Miyeon accompanies Jieun to her office, where she gets her new badge and a copy of her job requirements and daily and weekly assignments.

“It’s going to be most of the things you do now, but over time, you’ll be responsible for what’s on the bottom of the list.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Also, this is what a typical schedule for the CEO looks like. Meetings throughout the day, but his mornings and evenings are mostly free, and there are gaps throughout the day.”

Miyeon looks at the schedule and sees an asterisk for the morning and late evenings. “What are the asterisks for?”

“The CEO might need your help in the morning. For the evenings, it’s just helping him after a long day at work.”

“Oh, like a massage?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve done that before with my appa and eomma.”

“Nice. I’ll show you how it’s done since it’s your first time.”

“Thank you, Jieun unnie.”

“You can go home and unpack. Just meet me in my apartment around dinner. I want to go over some things with you.”

——

Miyeon meets Jieun at her apartment a few hours later. They both enjoy a simple dinner and talk about their personal life when she receives a notification that you arrived back at your condo.

“He’s back from his dinner. Let’s get ready and greet him.” She looks at Miyeon and says, “Come with me. I’ll give you some things to make sure you look presentable for today.”

They exit the elevator and head towards the large doors. Using their pin, they enter the room and hear the shower.

“Seems like he’s showering. Come with me.”

Miyeon follows Jieun to the service room and starts to get undressed. Surprised, Miyeon asks, “What are you doing, unnie?”

“Get undressed, rinse yourself, and put this on,” as Jieun hands her a two-piece bikini.

Jieun looks at Miyeon as she shows a lost expression, “Quickly before he gets out.”

“What are we doing?”

“Service.”

“Ehh?”

She helps Miyeon undress and pulls her to the shower. Miyeon tries to cover herself with her arm but is shocked by the cold water coming from the shower head. Miyeon’s mind goes wild, thinking of what type of service Jieun meant.

After rinsing, they quickly dry themselves and put on their bikini before coming out of the service room.

They see you swimming in your pool, going from one end to the other. Before reaching the sliding door, Jieun pulls Miyeon to the slide and whispers, “Make sure to do whatever he asks. He can be nice, but if you rub him the wrong way, he’ll make your life rough and even ruin your career.”

Miyeon nods nervously and follows Jieun, who slides the door open and walks towards the side of the pool. She waits until your head pops out of the water and waves at you.

“Good evening, sir. I see that you’re enjoying your swim.”

”After a busy day at work, I couldn’t help myself. It’s such a stress reliever.”

”That’s great to hear. I brought Miyeon with me today,” and waves at you to step forward.

”Good evening, sir,” and bows her head.

”I see that Jieun is teaching you properly.”

”Of course. May we join you?”

”Yes”, giving a satisfied smile.

Jieun walks towards the edge of the pool, grabs the rail, and walks into the pool.

You look at Miyeon, who is standing frozen, “Join us.” She nods and follows, walking slowly into the pool. She makes her way to where you two are and is surprised to see your hand on Jieun’s ass.

Jieun giggles and gets closer to you, letting you grip her cheeks, “Nice and firm like always.” Jieun blushes, “I try to work out since you like it so much.”

You look at Miyeon and extend your hand, “Come, don’t be afraid.” Miyeon hesitates but remembers what Jieun said earlier and extends her hand. “Wow, Miyeon, you look great in that bikini.”

”Thank you…” trying to hide her face by tilting down.

Suddenly she feels the touch of your hand on her ass and freezes. “Miyeon, you have such a soft butt.” There is no response, and Jieun speaks up, “I bet she’s happy about your compliment but is too shy to say anything. How about we spice things up a little?" and undoes her bra, letting it float to the top.

You let your hand off of Mieyon’s asscheek and grab Jieun’s waist, pulling her towards you. She wraps her legs around your waist, and you go in for a kiss on her neck. Jieun moans, feeling your lips kiss her neck to her collarbone.

Miyeon remains frozen, seeing you massage Jieun’s breast as you kiss her. She understands now what Jieun meant when she said “service” and realizes what her role as the CEO’s personal assistant meant.

Out of nowhere, Jieun says, “Did you know that Miyeon is a virgin?” Miyeon sees your attention and immediately goes towards her. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, her body was silky smooth as well.”

You put Jieun down, walk towards Mieyon, and say, “Come with me.”

”Where are we going?”

”To the bedroom, of course.”

She looks back at Jieun, who follows behind them. Miyeon asks in a trembling voice, “I don’t want my first time like this.”

Jieun replies, “Remember what I told you earlier. You belong to him now.”

You take Miyeon into the bedroom, drop your shorts, and toss them into the hamper. “Undress, I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”

Miyeon's body trembles at the idea that she’s going to lose her virginity in this manner. She assumed it would be with her boyfriend and a romantic setting, but instead, as your assistant.

You say sternly, “Strip, while I’m being nice.” Miyeon flinches and undoes her bra, dropping it on the floor before moving on to her bottom.

With her completely nude, you circle around and admire her body, small breasts, flat stomach, and pretty face. You get behind her, part her hair to the side, and kiss the side of her neck.

Miyeon closes her eyes, foreign to a male’s touch. She tells herself that she can do it; her dreams of becoming an idol are much bigger, and she is willing to sacrifice her body for a moment that will change her life.

You can see her shiver in fear, like a gazelle that’s about to be eaten by a lion. It turns you on, the feeling of having control of a female. You get closer to her, and she gets startled when you press your body against hers. She feels a thick, hot sensation touching her back and remains frozen.

You whisper in her ear, “I’m going to give you two choices; you can be in control of what happens to you, or I make the choices for you.”

She is at least thankful that she can decide on how she’ll lose her virginity. “I can do it myself.”

“Alright, tell me what you want me to do.”

Miyeon tries to come up with an idea quickly. She looks around and says, “Get on the bed and lay down.”

You agree, head to the large white bed, and lie in the middle of it. She walks and climbs on the bed, sitting next to you.

With no idea what to do, she climbs on your thighs and stares at your cock. It's the first time she's seen a cock, and she is lost on what to do. She turns around and looks at Jieun, who is standing in the corner. “Miyeon, grab it with your hand and stroke it like this. Here, you use this.” With the bottle of lube in her hand she opens it, pours some on your cock, coating it. She uses her right hand, stroking it awkwardly at first. As she continues, it starts to get bigger, which makes her use both hands.

“I don’t think it's going to fit inside of me.”

You respond, “You don’t know until you try,” giving her a smirk. She turns around once more and looks at Jieun, hoping for her to save her. Instead, Jieun replies, “Miyeon, you got this. Hwaiting!”

There’s no way around it; she has a future to think about, and giving her virginity is a small price to pay. That’s what she is trying to make herself believe. It’s the only way she’ll be able to accept what she is about to do.

Miyeon then grabs your cock and lifts herself off. She tries to align your cock to her entrance and is scared by how big it really is compared to her small entrance.

She lowers her body, pressing her lower lips against the mushroom tip of your cock, and stops. Miyeon looks at you with the look of someone who’s accepted her fate and control of her life to you and slowly drops her body.

You feel your tip spread her lower lips, pushing into her virgin hole. She groans, experiencing being stretched this much for the first time. She stops when she reaches her thin barrier and looks at you once more before giving her a hungry smile.

With her hands on your abs, she gives a hard drop; she gasps but immediately bites her lip. “Fuck, you’re so tight!”

There’s no response, only her body trembling as she’s trying to quickly adjust to the pressure. You place your hand on her arm, but she waves you off. She immediately apologizes, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that I’m trying to get adjusted to your size.”

“Don’t worry, it’s expected.” You touch her arm once more, this time allowing you to embrace her.

“Want me to take over?”

She nods, “Yes.”

You place your hands around her small waist and lift her, pulling her out from her cunt. “Bend over and get on all fours.”

She does as she’s told and places her body on top of the large pillow. She presses her face against it and closes her eyes and she feels you press your cock into her cunt.

“Hmph… hmm…”

She clenches the pillow, feeling your cock stretch her walls. She yelps when you hit the back of her womb, “Wait, wait, you’re breaking me!” You don’t respond and increase thrust inside her. She clenches her hands on the pillow as you use her body for relief. You want to make sure that her body gets used to your cock, especially her womb, since you’re its new owner.

“Does it feel better when I take over?”

There’s no response from Miyeon, so you raise your arm and give her a slight slap on her ass. She yelps and lifts her head, “Ow!”

You increase the pace of your thrust, your balls hitting her flesh, “Fuck, you’re going to be as great as my new toy.” Miyeon just continues to bite onto the pillow, listening to you talk about her position as your new toy.

Before long you’re about to cum and warn Mieyon on your orgasm nearing. “I’m going to cum.” Miyeon lifts her head, her mouth drooling, and pleads, “Please… outside… do it outside…” You scoff and say, “You’re in no position to throw out demands, I’ll cum wherever I want, and I always cum inside.”

Miyeon feels your cock throb and releases a large wave of cum, flooding her walls and womb. “No! So much inside!” Your cum floods her womb to the brim; she can feel her womb getting addicted to your cum and cock, knowing that there is no coming back after this.

Jieun leaves after the second round and is satisfied, knowing she did a good job for her master. You continue to fuck Miyeon, round after round, until she passes out, and even then fuck her until you get your fill.

Miyeon wakes late in the morning completely nude, and her lower body is completely sore. She tries to get up, but any pressure on her legs causes her to tremble and fall back onto the bed.

“Miyeon, it’s me, Irene.”

”Unnie, come in.”

Irene comes inside, sees the mess, and feels sorry for what Miyeon just went through. “How are you feeling?”

”Horrible, I lost my virginity, and my body is completely sore.”

”I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

”Jieun said it was necessary if I wanted the slightest chance to make it in the industry.”

There’s a silence, and Irene breaks the ice and says, “Here, take this.”

”What is it?

”A morning-after pill.”

658 notes · View notes

a-lexia11 · 29 days

Text

Loving in Barcelona (Meeting in Barcelona final part)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Words count: around 13k

Warning: angst,fluff,insecurities

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Note: Here it is, everyone—the final part of the series. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, thank you so much for all the positive comments; I truly appreciate it 🤍🫶

“I’m ready to start a relationship…with you,” she said, her voice steady but laced with deep emotion. Her eyes never wavered from mine as she continued, “I want us to be together, officially.”

As those words spilled from her lips, disbelief washed over me. I turned slowly towards her, locking eyes with her, trying to comprehend the reality of what she was saying. Could this really be happening?

She was smiling at me, that soft, tender smile that always made my heart skip a beat. Her eyes, full of warmth and adoration, seemed to sparkle as she looked at me.

In that moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning, and it was just the two of us, frozen in this perfect bubble of time.

“You…you want to be with me? Like, as your girlfriend?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loud might shatter the magic of the moment.

I was utterly dumbfounded. Her words seemed too good to be true, like something out of a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

She smiled even wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and then she leaned in, resting her forehead gently against mine.

Her hand, warm and soft, cupped my cheek, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles on my skin.

“Sí, eso es exactamente lo que quiero” (Yes, that’s exactly what I want) she whispered, her breath mingling with mine.

Then, she pulled back slightly, just enough to place a tender kiss on my cheek, the warmth of her lips lingering on my skin like a sweet promise.

I opened my mouth, ready to say something—anything—to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, but before I could form the words, someone called out Alexia’s name.

We both turned our heads towards the sound of the voice. There, just a few feet away, were Jenni Hermoso and Irene Paredes, grinning from ear to ear and waving Alexia over for a picture.

Reluctantly, we pulled away from each other and stood up. She didn’t let go of my hand, though. Instead, she squeezed it gently and led me towards the stands, where her mom and sister were waiting, watching us with knowing smiles.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” she said softly, her voice full of promise as she turned to face me again. “Te encontraré después” (I’ll find you after.)

Then, with the gentlest touch, she kissed me on the forehead, the gesture filled with so much affection that it made my heart swell.

And just like that, she walked away, leaving me standing there, dazed and utterly stunned.

I watched her retreating figure, my mind racing with the realization that she wanted to be with me—officially, just us, as girlfriends. It felt surreal, almost too incredible to believe.

But as the initial shock began to fade, I found myself grappling with the weight of what this meant. Did I want a relationship with her? The answer was a resounding yes. Of course, I did.

I’d been in love with her for what felt like forever, and the idea of being with her, truly and completely, was everything I’d ever wanted.

But as much as I wanted this—wanted her—I knew there were things we needed to talk about. We had to figure out how this was going to work, how we’d navigate this new chapter together.

And then there was Marina… That was a conversation that couldn’t be avoided.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. There would be time to figure everything out.

For now, all I knew was that I was in love with her, and she wanted to be with me. And that, in itself, was enough to make my heart soar.

Returning to Alba and Eli, with Alba giving me a smirk and a playful eyebrow wiggle, we decided it was time to head back to our hotel.

——

“¿Quieres una bebida?” (Do you want a drink?”) Alba practically shouted into my ear, her voice barely cutting through the loud, celebratory noise of the bar.

We were all out celebrating Spain’s big win, and the energy in the place was electric.

“Solo agua, por favor.” (Just water, please!) I shouted back, making sure my voice was loud enough for her to hear me over the music and chatter. The last thing I needed tonight was alcohol.

Alba gave me a quick nod, her expression a mix of surprise and understanding, and then I watched as she made her way through the crowd towards the bar.

As I stood there, the reality of tomorrow’s journey began to sink in. I was leaving for New York in the morning, and the thought of waking up hungover was definitely not appealing.

I wanted to spend a few days with my parents before heading back to Barcelona. With summer vacation winding down and school starting soon, this was my last chance to enjoy some time with them before things got busy again.

Alba returned a few moments later, balancing our drinks in her hands with a playful grin. I thanked her and took a sip, the coolness of the drink offering a brief reprieve from the heat of the packed bar.

The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter, music, and the joy of celebration after Spain’s big win.

After a while, Alba was fully immersed in the night, dancing her heart out with Alexia’s friends on the dance floor.

Meanwhile, I found myself sitting alone, taking a break. I had joined them earlier, but after dancing for what felt like hours, my feet were aching, and fatigue was beginning to set in.

The bar was still buzzing with energy, but I was starting to feel the weight of the day catching up to me. I glanced at my watch and noticed how late it was getting.

Alexia’s mom and uncle had already left for the hotel about an hour ago, and with my early flight looming, I knew it was time for me to head back as well.

Reluctantly, I stood up, brushing off the invisible weight of exhaustion that clung to me. I made my way through the crowd, weaving between groups of people until I reached Alba and the group of friends she was with.

I informed them that I was heading back to the hotel and took a moment to say my goodbyes since I wouldn’t be seeing them in the morning.

Alba gave me a tight hug, her energy still as high as ever, and I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

But before I left, I wanted to find Alexia. I hadn’t seen much of her since we arrived, as she had been busy celebrating with her teammates, and the bar was packed with people.

Despite that, our eyes had met a few times across the room, and each time, we shared a soft, knowing smile that made my heart flutter.

There was a connection between us that no amount of distance could weaken.

Scanning the room one last time, I finally spotted her seated in a corner, deep in conversation with Irene and Jenni.

I took a deep breath and made my way over, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As I approached, Irene noticed me first.

She gave me a warm smile and nodded in my direction, subtly tapping Alexia on the shoulder to get her attention.

Alexia turned around, and the moment her eyes met mine, her face lit up with a wide, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat.

She stood up and immediately wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight, affectionate hug.

I hugged her back just as firmly, savoring the warmth and comfort of being close to her.

When we finally pulled away, we remained close, our fingers naturally intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as we stood there, connected by more than just our hands. I could see the emotion in her eyes, and I knew she could see it in mine too.

“I’m going to head out,” I leaned in and whispered into her ear, the loud music and chatter making it hard to hear. She immediately frowned, her expression a mix of disappointment and concern.

“¿Por qué? Apenas hemos pasado tiempo juntos esta noche” (Why? We’ve barely spent any time together tonight) she replied, her voice tinged with a bit of a pout as she looked at me with those eyes that always made it hard to leave.

“I know,” I said softly, “but I’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and honestly, I’m exhausted.” My words came out gently, hoping she would understand.

She sighed and nodded, though it was clear she wasn’t happy about it. The reluctance was written all over her face, but she knew I had to go. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel,” she offered, her tone more determined than before.

“No, no, really, it’s okay,” I assured her. “You should stay here and celebrate your victory with everyone. This is your night.”

But she shook her head firmly, her resolve unshakable. “No, no voy a dejarte ir solo” (No, I’m not letting you go by yourself) she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“Alexia,” I chuckled lightly, trying to ease her worries, “the hotel is literally five minutes away. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She looked at me with a mixture of stubbornness and care in her eyes. “A lot can happen in five minutes,” she insisted, and without waiting for further discussion, she turned to inform Jenni and Irene that she’d be walking me back.

Once she had made sure they knew, she returned to me and gently took my hand in hers. As our fingers intertwined, I felt the warmth and reassurance of her touch.

We made our way out of the bar together, leaving behind the noise and celebration, stepping into the cool night air.

Even though it was just a short walk, she gripped my hand tightly as we ambled through the dimly lit streets.

We began our journey to the hotel, our hands intertwined, chatting about the day’s highlights and her big win.

The air was crisp and cool, and the city lights cast a warm glow on our path. As we reminisced, our conversation was filled with laughter and playful teasing.

Each shared memory and joyful recollection made the walk feel special, transforming it into a cherished moment.

The simple pleasure of being together, wrapped in the warmth of our closeness, turned this brief journey into a sweet and unforgettable experience.

Finally, we arrived at the front of the hotel, the evening air cool against our skin.

“Thank you for walking me back,” I said, looking up at her with a playful pout. “But now you have to go back alone.”

She laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said with a teasing tone. “Solo voy a correr de regreso al bar” (I’ll just sprint back to the bar.) Her light-hearted joke made me smile, and we both shared a brief, carefree laugh.

As our laughter subsided, she drew me into a closer embrace, her arms wrapping warmly around my waist.

Her touch was comforting and intimate, making the moment feel even more special.

“No pienses que he olvidado lo que dije antes en el campo” (Don’t think I’ve forgotten what I said earlier on the field) she said, her smile tender and sincere as she looked into my eyes.

“I know you haven’t forgotten, and neither have I,” I replied softly, my voice full of affection.

She leaned in, resting her forehead gently against mine. “Now isn’t the right time to talk about it,” she whispered. “Es tarde, y deberías descansar. Pero te prometo que, una vez que estemos de vuelta en Barcelona, lo primero que quiero hacer es invitarte a una cita oficial” (It’s late, and you should get some rest. But I promise you, once we’re both back in Barcelona, the first thing I want to do is take you on an official date)

Her words took my breath away. The idea of an official date with her felt both thrilling and surreal. It was happening, and she had clearly made up her mind.

“If you want to, of course,” she added with a hint of nervousness, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

I looked up at her, my heart swelling with happiness. “Of course, I’d love to go on a date with you,” I said gently, and then I pressed my forehead against hers, giving her a tender Eskimo kiss

We both giggled softly, our laughter melding seamlessly with the serene quiet of the night.

As our giggles faded, she pulled me closer, her arms enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and affection that made everything around us feel distant and irrelevant.

I noticed her gaze flickering to my lips several times, a silent, suggestive movement that made my heart race.

She leaned down slightly, her breath mingling with mine, and I responded by tilting my head upward, closing the remaining distance between us.

This was it—the long-awaited moment. The night was calm and still, with no interruptions or distractions, just the two of us sharing this intimate space.

Our lips were mere centimeters apart now, and she looked into my eyes with a question in her gaze, silently asking for permission to close the gap. I offered a soft, encouraging nod, my own heart pounding in anticipation.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to fully embrace the moment. Then, I felt her lips touch mine—soft and tentative at first. It was a sensation that felt both thrilling and surreal.

Her lips were incredibly gentle, as though she was savoring each moment of this first kiss, making sure it was as perfect as it could be.

Our lips began to move together slowly, in a tender, unhurried rhythm. Each kiss was deliberate, a delicate exploration that conveyed both passion and tenderness.

She kissed me as if I were the most precious thing in the world, her arms still wrapped around my waist, holding me close.

My hands naturally found their way to her cheeks, feeling the softness of her skin and deepening our connection.

In that precious moment, I was overwhelmed by a flurry of emotions—like butterflies fluttering in my stomach or fireworks bursting in the night sky.

The kiss was not just a physical sensation but an emotional symphony, marking the beginning of something beautiful and profound between us.

After a few moments, we slowly pulled away from each other. She pressed a few more gentle kisses on my lips before softly drawing back.

As we both opened our eyes, her face broke into a radiant smile, and she said, “Finalmente” (Finally) Her voice was filled with a mix of relief and joy.

I chuckled softly, feeling a rush of happiness, and buried my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent and feeling her warmth envelop me.

She placed her large, comforting hand on the back of my head, her touch grounding and reassuring. “Yes, finally,” I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur, sharing in the profound sense of completion we both felt.

“No quiero irme ahora” (I don’t want to leave now) she whispered softly, her voice tinged with longing as she pressed a tender kiss to my hair. “I want to stay with you.”

Reluctantly, I pulled away slightly, needing to bring some sense of practicality into the moment. “No, you have to go back to the party,” I said with a gentle firmness, my tone mixed with affection.

Her smile remained, though it carried a hint of disappointment.

“I’m going back,” she said with a playful glint in her eye, “pero solo para que lo sepas, estaré pensando en ti todo el tiempo” (but just so you know, I’ll be thinking about you the entire time) Her cheeky grin made my heart flutter.

“Just have fun, okay?” I said, my hand moving to caress her cheek. She leaned into my touch, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the moment. “Te lo mereces, y estoy muy orgullosa de ti” (You deserved it, and I’m so proud of you.)

I withdrew my hand reluctantly and said, “Now, go before you miss out on all the excitement.”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Can I have one more kiss for the road?” she asked playfully, her voice a soft whisper of desire. I nodded in agreement.

She moved closer, her fingers gently cupping my cheek, and planted a series of tender kisses on my lips.

Each kiss was a delicate touch, full of warmth and promise, and as she kissed me, I felt a deep connection that made the moment feel even more intimate.

As she pulled back slightly, she whispered against my lips, “No puedo creer que he logrado dos sueños maravillosos esta noche” (Can’t believe I’ve achieved two wonderful dreams tonight) her words carrying a blend of excitement and tenderness.

It was clear she was referring to both me and her World Cup victory.

I laughed softly, my heart swelling with affection, and drew back completely. “You haven’t completely won me over yet,” I teased. “We’ll see how the first date goes. If it turns out to be dreadful, I’m afraid I might have to cut off all contact,” I said with a playful tone.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “No te preocupes por eso. Prepárate para quedar completamente impresionada” (Don’t worry about that. Prepare yourself to be completely blown away) she said with a confident, teasing smile.

I grinned and said, “Go now, and text me when you’re back at the party.”

She took my hands in hers and kissed them gently, her touch sending a thrill through me. “Te veré en Barcelona, bebé ” (I’ll see you in Barcelona, baby) she promised, kissing my hands once more before letting them go.

As she waved goodbye and walked away, I turned to enter the hotel, my mind still buzzing with the electric sensation of our kiss. How was I ever going to get any sleep tonight? All I could think about was that magical, unforgettable kiss and the anticipation of what the future held.

As I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to fall asleep—or at least trying not to let my thoughts drift to Alexia—my phone buzzed beside me.

Curious, I picked it up, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw her name light up my screen.

**La Reina👸:** I’m back at the bar. Sleep well and sweet dreams, bebé. I hope you have a great flight tomorrow, and I can’t wait to see you again in Barcelona. Besos.

A warm smile spread across my face as I read her message. God, I really missed her goodnight text messages.

I typed out a quick response, telling her to enjoy the rest of her night, but not without reminding her to have fun. As I hit send, a contented sigh escaped my lips. I placed my phone on the bedside table, locked the screen, and snuggled into the blankets.

Closing my eyes, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The anticipation of seeing her again in Barcelona filled my mind, and for the first time that night, I felt truly relaxed.

With a soft smile still lingering on my face, I finally drifted off to sleep, my thoughts no longer a whirlwind but a gentle reminder of what awaited me.

——

Back in New York, I sat down with my parents and excitedly shared all the details of my recent adventure in New Zealand and Australia.

From the breathtaking landscapes to the electrifying atmosphere of the World Cup, they were captivated by my stories.

They were especially overjoyed to hear about Alexia’s incredible achievement of winning the World Cup.

As the conversation shifted, I updated them on my situation with Alba and Alexia.

They listened intently, and I could see the relief and happiness wash over them as I explained how everything had resolved smoothly.

Their smiles grew even wider when I mentioned how well things had turned out for all of us, and how Alba and I had managed to strengthen our friendship despite the challenges.

Then came the moment I had been eager to share—I told my mom about the kiss Alexia and I shared.

As I described the moment, her eyes lit up with excitement, and she let out a squeal of delight, like a teenager hearing about her best friend’s first crush. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and we both burst into laughter.

It was reassuring to know that Alexia had my mom's full approval, and it made me feel even more confident about what lay ahead.

For the next three days in NYC, I made the most of my time with family and friends.

Every moment was precious, from catching up over coffee to long walks through the city. It felt like a warm embrace before I had to return to Barcelona.

——

Back in Barcelona, I hadn’t yet crossed paths with Alexia. She’s been swept up in the whirlwind of celebrations, interviews, and the countless obligations that come with being a World Cup champion.

Meanwhile, I’ve been equally caught up in preparing for the upcoming school year—endless meetings with Valeria, going over the new curriculum, and making sure everything’s in order.

It feels like our lives have been moving at a breakneck pace, leaving little room for anything else.

But despite our hectic schedules, we’ve managed to stay connected, as we always do.

Whether it’s through FaceTime calls or quick text messages, we’ve found ways to bridge the gap. Alexia has been sharing endless photos and videos from her celebrations, each one more heartwarming than the last. It’s been a small comfort to see her so happy, even if only through a screen.

Tonight, though, is different. Tonight, I’ll finally get to see her in person before she heads off again for Barcelona’s pre-season tour in Mexico.

The thought of it fills me with a mix of excitement and nerves.

We’ve planned our first official date, and I’ve been getting ready, trying not to overthink it.

Alexia hasn’t told me where we’re going, only that I should dress casually. That’s more than fine with me—she knows I’m not into anything too fancy, and casual feels more natural for us anyway. It’s a relief knowing she understands me so well.

As I finished getting dressed, smoothing out the last wrinkle in my outfit, I heard a knock at the door.

My heart jumped a little as I walked over to open it. When the door swung open, there she was—Alexia, standing in front of me with that familiar, dazzling smile. She looked effortlessly stunning in her simple blue wide-leg jeans and a white crop top.

In one hands, she held a bouquet of flowers and the others held the Nala’s leach.

For a moment, I just stood there, taking her in. The sight of her, right there in front of me after what felt like so long, made my heart swell.

It wasn’t just the flowers or her casual but perfect outfit—it was the way she looked at me, the warmth in her eyes that made everything else fade into the background.

“Hola, amor” she greeted me with a gentle smile that instantly made my heart flutter. I couldn’t help but smile back at her, the warmth of her presence washing over me. “You look beautiful, as always” she added softly, her voice full of sincerity.

As she stepped closer, she wrapped me in a warm, comforting hug, the kind that made me feel like everything was right in the world again.

"Ugh, I missed you," I admitted, my voice laced with frustration from all the time we’d spent apart. She laughed softly at my words, the sound like music to my ears.

We reluctantly pulled away from the embrace, but I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

Grinning mischievously, I cupped her face in my hands and began peppering her cheeks with kisses, one after the other, causing her to giggle in that adorable way that always melted my heart.

Just as I was about to steal another kiss, I heard a little bark from below. I glanced down and saw Nala looking up at me with those big, expectant eyes.

With a laugh, I bent down to pick her up. “Oh, Nala! I missed you so much!” I cooed, cuddling her close and pressing kisses into her soft fur. “Much more than I missed your mami” I teased, flashing Alexia a cheeky smile over Nala's head.

Alexia laughed at my playful remark and handed me the bouquet of flowers she had brought. “Para tì,” (for you) she said, her eyes twinkling with affection.

I carefully set Nala back down and took the flowers from Alexia’s hands, admiring their vibrant colors and sweet fragrance.

“Thank you, Alexia. With all the flowers you’ve given me, I could practically open a flower shop” I joked, eliciting another soft laugh from her.

After putting the flowers in water, I returned to her side, feeling content and at peace. "Vamos," she said, extending her hand toward me.

I took it without hesitation, and as she intertwined our fingers, a wave of warmth spread through me.

We slowly made our way towards her car, fingers intertwined as we walked side by side.

When we finally arrived, she took a moment to open the door for me. I leaned in and kissed her gently on the cheek, whispering a heartfelt “thank you” before sliding into the passenger seat.

After ensuring I was settled in, she turned her attention to Nala, carefully placing her in the backseat with a few affectionate pats.

Once Nala was comfortable, she climbed into the driver’s seat, buckled her seatbelt with a soft click, and started the engine. The hum of the car filled the air as we began our journey to wherever our date would take us.

As the city lights blurred by, I noticed her right hand resting casually on her lap. The desire to be close to her was too strong to resist, so I gently reached over and took her hand in mine, our fingers naturally intertwining.

The warmth of her touch spread through me, and when she glanced over at me, her lips curled into a tender smile.

Without a word, she lifted our joined hands and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of mine before letting them rest comfortably on my lap. I couldn’t resist tracing my fingers along her arm, savoring the connection between us.

After what felt like a dreamy ride, we finally arrived at our destination. As soon as I realized it was the beach, I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Oooh, I love a beach date!” I exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm, and she chuckled at my reaction, her laughter light and contagious.

We both got out of the car, the cool breeze immediately welcoming us. She moved to the backseat, carefully lifting Nala out before coming back to me.

Once again, she took my hand, our fingers fitting together as naturally as they always did.

The beach was calm and peaceful, with only a few scattered people in the distance. As we strolled towards the shore, she guided us to a more secluded area, where the sand was softer, and the waves seemed to dance just for us.

Spread out on the sand was a cozy blanket, along with a thoughtfully prepared picnic setup. There was a bottle of wine, a platter of assorted cheeses and ham, fresh fruits, and an array of other delicious snacks that made my heart swell with appreciation.

I turned to her, my eyes filled with gratitude. “Aww, Alexia, this is absolutely perfect. It’s so cute,” I said, my voice laced with genuine happiness. Her smile widened at my words, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Vamos,” she said softly, tugging my hand as she led me toward the blanket. Nala, full of energy, started running around, barking joyfully as she explored the surroundings.

Alexia and I sat close together, the warmth of her body comforting against the cool ocean breeze.

She reached for the wine, expertly opening the bottle with a satisfying pop, and poured me a glass.

I accepted it gratefully, our eyes meeting in a moment of shared contentment, and I couldn’t help but thank her once again for the beautiful evening she had planned.

The entire date was truly magical, exceeding all my expectations.

From the moment we arrived at the beach, Alexia and I found ourselves effortlessly immersed in conversation, diving deep into meaningful topics and then easily shifting to lighter, more playful discussions. It felt like we could talk about anything and everything without a single awkward pause.

Nala, her joyful presence adding to the atmosphere, often became the center of our attention as we tossed a ball for her and laughed at her excited antics.

At one point, as the sky began to shift into softer hues of pink and orange, I found myself sitting between Alexia’s legs on the blanket.

Her strong, warm chest pressed firmly against my back, and it felt like I was enveloped in a protective and comforting embrace.

Our hands naturally found each other and intertwined on my stomach, and Nala, always seeking closeness, nestled comfortably between my legs. The scene was picture-perfect, peaceful and intimate.

Alexia would occasionally lean down to plant tender kisses on my cheeks, her lips soft and affectionate.

Each time, I’d turn my head slightly, resting it against her shoulder, just so I could gaze up at her while we continued to chat. The way she looked at me made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but smile every time our eyes met.

As we talked, she gently pulled her hand away from mine and brought it to my cheek. Her large, warm hand cradled my face, her fingers moving with such tenderness that it made my breath catch.

She looked into my eyes, and in that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked softly, her voice filled with sincerity as her eyes searched mine.

I couldn’t resist teasing her just a little. “Hmm, I don’t know,” I said with a playful smirk, “I usually don’t kiss on the first date.”

But as I finished speaking, I leaned closer to her, puckering my lips in an exaggerated manner to show her I was just joking, giving her the signal that I was more than okay with it.

She laughed, a beautiful sound that made my heart skip a beat, and then she closed the small distance between us.

The moment our lips met, it was like everything fell perfectly into place.

The kiss was soft and gentle at first, our lips moving in perfect harmony. I could feel the warmth and sweetness of her touch, and it sent waves of electricity coursing through me.

I adjusted myself slightly, sitting up more so I could kiss her deeper, and she responded by pulling me closer, wrapping both of her strong arms around my waist, holding me as if she never wanted to let go.

Carefully, I turned around to face her completely, mindful of Nala who was still snuggled between my legs.

I ended up practically straddling Alexia, my hands resting on her shoulders as our kiss grew more intense.

Her tongue gently brushed against my lips, asking for permission, and I eagerly parted them, allowing her to explore further.

Our tongues met in a slow, sensual dance, caressing each other as we lost ourselves in the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, but also not nearly long enough, we finally pulled away, breathless and flushed.

I knew my face was probably as red as a tomato, but Alexia just smiled at me, her eyes filled with affection.

She then buried her face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling into me, and I responded by gently running my fingers through her hair, savoring the closeness.

Once we caught our breath and the moment settled, we decided to take a walk along the beach.

The sunset was a breathtaking mix of colors, painting the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple as the waves gently lapped at the shore.

We walked hand in hand, our fingers once again intertwined, and the whole scene felt like something out of a dream.

The romance of it all was undeniable, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that this was, without a doubt, the best first date I had ever experienced.

Every moment with Alexia felt special, and I couldn’t wait to see where things would go from here.

After that incredible date, she drove me back to my place, but before I could even get out of the car, she practically begged me to stay over at her apartment.

She knew she'd be leaving again for Mexico the day after tomorrow, and neither of us wanted the night to end. The thought of being apart so soon made it impossible for me to say no, so I immediately agreed.

We went up to my apartment so I could gather some essentials—just a small bag with clothes, a toothbrush, and a few other things I thought I might need.

She patiently waited in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smile, watching me as I hurried around.

Once I had everything, we headed back to her apartment. The moment we walked in, the atmosphere felt cozy and intimate, like our own little world where time didn’t matter. We decided to watch a movie, but it quickly became background noise.

Instead of focusing on the screen, we found ourselves wrapped up in each other—sharing inside jokes, laughing until our stomachs hurt, and stealing kisses every chance we got.

Every time I looked at her, I felt this overwhelming desire to be close to her, to feel her warmth.

I couldn’t get enough—I wanted to keep kissing her, to hold her tighter, to make the most of every moment we had together before she had to leave again.

Eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, but even as we grew tired, we didn’t want to let go of each other.

When we finally made our way to bed, we ended up in a tangle of limbs, with me practically draped over her. The weight of my body against hers was comforting, and as I rested my head on her chest, I could feel her heartbeat—a steady, reassuring rhythm that lulled me into relaxation.

Her hand slipped under my shirt, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along my back, moving up and down in soothing strokes that sent shivers through me.

Her touch was so tender, so familiar, that it made my heart ache with how much I loved her. Just as I was on the edge of sleep, I heard her soft voice whisper, “Buenas noches, mi amor.” (Good night my love)

Those words, filled with affection, were the last thing I remembered as I drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, feeling safe and cherished in her arms.

——

The next morning came all too soon, and I found myself once again wrapped in Alexia’s warm embrace as we prepared to say our goodbyes.

The weight of the moment hung between us, knowing she would be leaving for Mexico the next day. We wouldn’t have a chance to see each other for the rest of the day either, with both of us caught up in a whirlwind of last-minute tasks and responsibilities. It made these final moments all the more bittersweet.

Standing near the front door, our bodies pressed close together, I whispered against her lips, “I’ll miss you.”

My voice was soft, barely audible, as if speaking the words aloud would make them more real, more painful.

Her arms tightened around me, and she responded between kisses, “Me too.” Her words were simple but laced with the same longing I felt.

Every kiss felt like a promise, a reassurance that even though we’d be apart, our connection wouldn’t waver.

We lingered in that embrace, savoring every second, every touch, as if trying to make time slow down.

Our kisses grew deeper, more intense, as if we could somehow make up for the days we would be apart. But eventually, reality set in, and we had to pull away, reluctantly creating space between us.

I let out a small sigh, trying to muster the willpower to leave. “Okay, I need to go now, or I’ll never leave,” I said with a half-smile, bending down to pick up my bag.

The idea of walking out that door felt harder than it should have.

Alexia moved to open the door for me, but not without one last gesture. She leaned in and brushed her lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “Adios, bebé. I’ll see you in a week,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm, trying to make the separation feel bearable.

“Bye, Ale,” I replied, taking a few steps towards the door, but before I could make my exit, I felt her hand slip into mine, pulling me back slightly.

“Wait,” she said with that playful smile I adored so much. “Please, look both ways before crossing the road, okay?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, a mix of affection and exasperation bubbling up. With a teasing huff, I reached up to pinch her cheek lightly. “I will,” I promised, shaking my head at her protective nature.

As I finally walked away, I could feel her eyes on me, and I turned back for one last glance. There she was, standing in the doorway, watching me go with that familiar look of love and concern. It made me want to run back and stay just a little longer, but I knew we’d both have to be strong until we were together again.

——

Today marked the first day back at school, and I found myself surprisingly eager to return to work. There’s something invigorating about the start of a new school year—the buzz of excitement in the air, the fresh faces of the children, and the feeling of diving back into a routine that brings a sense of purpose.

I’ve missed the chatter, the laughter, and even the chaos that comes with being surrounded by kids. It felt good to be back in the classroom, and I couldn’t wait to reconnect with all the students and hear about their summer adventures.

But even with all that enthusiasm for work, there was something, or rather someone, who occupied my thoughts all day. Alexia. She had just returned from Mexico late last night, and after a whole week of not seeing her, I was practically counting down the minutes until we could finally be together tonight.

Sure, we stayed in touch while she was away—texting whenever we could and squeezing in late-night calls—but it wasn’t the same as being able to hold her, to see her smile in person.

The anticipation of being in her arms again was almost overwhelming.

Tonight, we’d be celebrating her victory with a small, intimate gathering organized by Alba and a few close friends. It was a chance for Alexia to unwind and celebrate her achievements surrounded by the people who mattered most—her friends, her family, and me.

And while I was excited to be part of that, there was a tiny knot of uncertainty in my stomach. I mean, I’ll be there as... her girlfriend? Wait, can I even call myself that? I wasn’t entirely sure.

Even though Alexia and I had been acting like a couple—holding hands, stealing kisses, sharing moments that felt undeniably romantic—we hadn’t had that official conversation.

Nothing had been defined, and I found myself wondering where exactly we stood and I wasn’t sure if it was too soon to bring it up. After all, our first date was only a week ago, and she’d been away for most of that time.

So, for now, I decided to let things be. I wanted to give Alexia some space and time to figure out how she felt. There was no need to rush into any deep conversations about labels and commitments just yet.

Tonight wasn’t about that—it was about celebrating her success and being there for her in this moment. I’d focus on enjoying the evening, being present, and sharing in her happiness. The rest, well, it could wait until the time felt right.

“Nos veremos esta noche, ¿verdad? ¿Necesitas que pase a recogerte? Ya estoy recogiendo an Alexia y Marina, así que puedo pasar a buscarte también” (I’ll see you tonight, right? Do you need me to come pick you up? I’m already picking up Alexia and Marina, so I can swing by and get you too) Alba asked as we stood in the parking lot after work, her tone light and cheerful as usual.

The mention of Marina’s name made my stomach churn. Marina? That girl is coming too? I immediately felt my enthusiasm drain away. Just hearing her name makes me want to scream… or maybe throw up.

“Espera, ¿Marina viene también?” (Wait, Marina’s coming?) I asked, trying to mask the disbelief in my voice but failing miserably. I had completely forgotten that I’m the only one in our circle who can’t stand her.

Everyone else seems to think she’s great, but they don’t know the real Marina like I do.

“Sí, ella viene” (Yeah, she is) Alba replied, smiling softly, clearly picking up on my discomfort. She always tries to be considerate, but in this case, it just made things worse.

I bit my lip, weighing my options. Maybe I could fake being sick or come up with a convincing excuse. Anything to avoid spending the evening with Marina.

“Hmm… en realidad, no estoy tan seguro de ir… No me he estado sintiendo muy bien” (Um… actually, I’m not so sure about going… I haven’t been feeling great) I said hesitantly, hoping to sound convincing enough that Alba wouldn’t press the issue.

The truth was, the thought of being in the same room as Marina made my skin crawl. She always brought up too many bad memories, things I’d rather forget. I couldn’t bear the idea of seeing her face or hearing her voice again.

And if I’m being honest, it hurt knowing that Alba, Alexia, and even our mutual friends actually liked her. Maybe they didn’t see the side of her that I did. To them, she was always so sweet and charming, but with me, it was a different story.

“¿Qué? No, no, no” (What? No, no, no) Alba protested, clearly unconvinced. “¿Qué quieres decir con que no te sientes bien? Estuviste bien todo el día” (What do you mean you’re not feeling well? You looked fine all day.) She reached out and touched my forehead, checking for a fever like she was my mom.

I swatted her hand away, a bit annoyed, just as a look of realization crossed her face.

“No vas a venir por Marina, ¿verdad?” (You’re not coming because of Marina, aren’t you?) she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief as the pieces fell into place.

I sighed heavily, finally giving in. “Sí, Alba. No quiero ir por Marina” (Yes, Alba. I don’t want to go because of Marina) I admitted, fiddling with my car keys, the cool metal a distraction from the conversation I didn’t want to have.

Alba’s expression softened, but she wasn’t giving up. “Y/N, no puedes dejar que ella arruine nuestra noche. Solo ignórala. Nos divertiremos, te lo prometo” (Y/N, you can’t let her ruin our night. Just ignore her. We’ll have fun, I promise) she urged, her voice gentle but persistent.

“No, Alba. No puedo simplemente ignorarla. No entiendes lo difícil que es para mí” (No, Alba. I can’t just ignore her. You don’t understand how hard it is for me) I said firmly, meeting her gaze. “Es fácil para ti decir eso porque no sientes lo mismo que yo. No puedo fingir estar feliz sentado en la misma habitación que la ex de Alexia, especialmente alguien que claramente no me agrada” (It’s easy for you to say that because you don’t feel the way I do. I can’t pretend to be happy sitting in the same room as Alexia’s ex. Especially someone who clearly doesn’t like me.)

Alba looked down at the pavement for a moment, guilt flickering across her face before she met my eyes again. “Está bien, lo entiendo. No tienes que venir si realmente no quieres” (Okay, I get it. You don’t have to come if you really don’t want to) she said, biting her lip, clearly torn. “Pero es que… siento que Alexia se decepcionará si no estás allí.”(But I just… I feel like Alexia will be disappointed if you’re not there)

Hearing that made my heart sink a little. I knew Alba wasn’t trying to guilt-trip me, but it still stung. I wanted to be there for Alexia, but not if it meant putting myself through the torture of dealing with Marina.

Still, I could see the conflict in Alba’s eyes, and I hated that this situation was causing tension between us.

“Por favor, Y/N, no te estoy pidiendo que lo hagas por Marina. Lo estoy pidiendo por Alexia. Tú y yo sabemos cuánto le gustaría que estuvieras allí. Es su fiesta, y se sentiría muy decepcionada si no vinieras. Por favor…” (Please, Y/N, I’m not asking you to do this for Marina. I’m asking for Alexia. You and I both know how much she’d want you there. It’s her party, and she would be so disappointed if you didn’t come. Please…) she said, practically pleading.

She’s right. I should set aside my feelings about Marina and think about Alexia. It’s her special day, and it’s important to celebrate it with her, even if I’m not thrilled about Marina’s presence.

I let out a long sigh, feeling defeated. “Está bien, está bien. Solo ven a recogerme” (Alright, fine. Just come pick me up.)

“Yes!” she shouted, her face lighting up with joy. She bounced up and down with excitement. “¡Vamos a pasar un tiempo increíble! Te prometo que lo disfrutarás” (We’re going to have an amazing time! I promise you’ll enjoy it) she added, pulling me into a warm hug.

“Yes, so much fun…” I muttered under my breath, trying to muster a smile despite my reluctance.

——

I heard a honk outside and, glancing through the window, saw Alba’s car waiting at the curb.

Hurriedly, I finished tying my shoes, grabbed my bag, and dashed out of my apartment. As I approached the car, I noticed Alba and Marina sitting in the front seats, chatting away.

But it was Alexia, standing near the front of the car, who really caught my attention. The moment our eyes met, a wide smile spread across my face, and I could see her mirror my expression with the same enthusiasm.

Without thinking, I practically ran towards her. As I got closer, she opened her arms, and I threw myself into them, feeling the warmth and familiarity of her embrace.

She hugged me tightly, lifting me off the ground effortlessly, making me feel lighter both physically and emotionally.

When we finally pulled back from the hug, Alexia looked into my eyes for a brief moment, then leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and familiar, and I found myself melting into it.

After a few lingering seconds, we pulled away, our smiles returning as we looked at each other.

“Te extrañé tanto, mi amor” (I missed you so much, my love ) she whispered, her voice full of affection. I couldn’t help but echo her words, my heart swelling with warmth.

Over her shoulder, I noticed Alba and Marina watching us. Alba had a huge grin on her face, clearly enjoying the moment and teasing us by making exaggerated kissing motions with her lips.

Meanwhile, Marina was glaring at me, her eyes sharp before she dramatically rolled them and focused on her phone, clearly not amused by the scene.

Once we all piled into the car, Alexia took the middle seat right beside me. She immediately reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers as we settled in for the ride.

Her presence next to me felt reassuring, even as I caught Marina occasionally glaring at me through the rearview mirror. I decided to ignore it, focusing instead on the warmth of Alexia’s hand in mine and the comfortable conversation we were having.

We chatted about our day, plans for the weekend, and just shared small, affectionate moments throughout the drive.

As we neared the restaurant, Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, “Hey, por cierto, el sábado vamos a tener una noche de juegos en mi apartamento con los demás. Por favor, ven también” (Hey, by the way Saturday, we’re having game night at my apartment with the others, please come too?)

She gently traced circles on the back of my hand with her thumb as she spoke, her voice full of hope.

“Of course ” I replied softly, my heart fluttering at the idea. I leaned in and kissed her again, a sweet, lingering kiss.

——

We finally arrived at the restaurant where the intimate gathering would take place. The air was filled with excitement, and the soft glow of the evening lights made the atmosphere feel warm and welcoming.

One by one, we all stepped out of the car, and as soon as Alexia set foot on the pavement, Marina quickly approached her.

With a wide smile on her face, she gently took Alexia’s hand in hers, guiding her toward the entrance of the restaurant. The sight of them together brought a pang of something indescribable to my chest.

As they walked away, Alexia turned back to me, her eyes soft and apologetic as she offered me a small, regretful smile, almost as if she wished she could be walking with me instead.

Alba, noticing my hesitation, came up to me with her usual warmth. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a comforting embrace, her voice gentle as she whispered, “Vamos, amor.”

Her touch brought me back to the moment, and with a reassuring nod, she led me towards the restaurant, her presence a reminder that I wasn't alone in this.

Alba had gone all out for this event, renting out the entire restaurant so that it was just Alexia’s closest family and friends gathered inside.

The moment we stepped through the doors, a wave of cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, all for Alexia.

The room buzzed with energy and love, the kind of atmosphere that makes you feel both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed at the same time.

After mingling with everyone for what felt like hours, I started to feel the weight of exhaustion settling in.

The heat inside the restaurant wasn’t helping either, making the space feel even more suffocating.

Needing a break, I decided to slip outside for a moment, just to catch my breath and escape the noise.

Outside, I found a small, secluded corner with a few cozy chairs set up. It was the perfect spot to unwind and clear my head, so I sank into one of the chairs, grateful for the quiet.

The cool night air brushed against my skin, offering a much-needed relief from the warmth inside.

I had only been sitting there for a short while when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Startled, I turned around and looked up to see Marina standing there, her expression unreadable.

My brows furrowed in confusion—of all people, I hadn’t expected her to follow me out here.

“Mantente alejado de Alexia” (Stay away from Alexia) she demanded, her tone cold and unyielding as she fixed me with a sharp glare.

“Que?” (What?)I replied, disbelief lacing my voice. The abruptness of her words caught me off guard.

“Me oíste” (You heard me) she repeated, her eyes narrowing. “No te la mereces. Ella merece alguien mucho mejor que tú” (You don't deserve her. She deserves so much better than you)

Her words stung, but I refused to let her see how much they affected me. “Fuck you” I shot back in english, standing up from my seat and preparing to walk away.

But before I could, Marina grabbed my wrist, her grip tight.

“Nunca te amará como me amó a mí” (She'll never love you like she loved me) she continued, her voice dripping with venom. “Ella me dijo, una y otra vez, que yo era el amor de su vida. Íbamos a casarnos y vivir felices para siempre—me lo dijo ella misma” (She told me, over and over again, that I was the love of her life. We were supposed to get married, live happily ever after—she told me that herself.)

I could see the satisfaction in her eyes as she tried to rattle me, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of backing down. “Ella TE AMABA” (She LOVED you) I retorted, emphasizing the past tense. “Ya no más, idiota. Tú no eres el que sale en citas con ella, la besa o está con ella románticamente. Eso soy yo ahora” (Not anymore, you idiot. You're not the one who gets to go on dates with her, kiss her, or be with her romantically. That's me now.)

I yanked my wrist free from her grip, the anger boiling inside me as I took a step back, putting distance between us.

Marina's smirk wavered briefly, but then she leaned in closer, so close that I could feel her breath on my face.

Her eyes were locked on mine, filled with a mixture of defiance and something almost challenging.

She was just about to say something else, her lips parting, when a voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Y/N?”

I turned around and saw Alexia standing a few feet away, her face etched with concern. Her eyes flicked between Marina and me, clearly sensing that something wasn’t right. “¿Todo está bien?” (Is everything okay?) she asked, her voice gentle but laced with worry.

Before I could even respond, Marina beat me to it. “Todo está bien, Alexia, no te preocupes” (Everything’s fine, Alexia, don’t worry) she said smoothly, flashing one of those fake smiles that seemed all too practiced. It was the kind of smile that could fool most people, but not me. And from the way Alexia looked at her, not Alexia either.

Alexia’s gaze lingered on me, her concern deepening as she studied my face. I felt my stomach twist, and I quickly looked away, biting my lip nervously to avoid her questioning eyes.

I could feel the weight of her stare, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give.

“Regresémonos a tu fiesta, Ale” (Let’s go back to your party, Ale) Marina suggested, taking a step forward and slipping her hand into Alexia’s, trying to pull her away from the moment.

But Alexia gently pulled her hand free from Marina’s grasp. “Tú sigue adelante” (You go ahead) she said softly but firmly. “Solo quiero hablar con Y/N un momento” (I just want to talk to Y/N for a moment.)

Marina’s eyes darted between us, clearly reluctant to leave. She hesitated for a second, but then nodded, masking her frustration with another one of her forced smiles.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Alexia’s cheek, her eyes lingering on me for just a moment longer before she finally walked away.

As soon as Marina was gone, Alexia stepped closer to me, her presence immediately soothing. She placed her hands gently on either side of my face, her touch warm and familiar. “Are you okay, bebé ?” she asked, her voice soft and full of concern.

Her eyes searched mine, trying to understand what had just happened.

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat, but I couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I hate her,” I blurted out, my voice barely above a whisper.

I hadn’t planned on saying it, not now, not like this, but the frustration and anger I had been bottling up finally spilled over.

Alexia looked taken aback for a moment, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Who? Marina? Why?” she asked, her voice full of genuine concern.

She searched my face, trying to piece together what had triggered this sudden outburst.

Taking a deep breath, I started to explain everything. I told her about the first time I met Marina, how from the very beginning, there was something off about the way she spoke to me, the way her eyes seemed to judge me.

I explained how Marina’s words had cut into me, how she made me feel small and unworthy. I described how tense it had been whenever she was around, the constant undercurrent of hostility that I could never quite shake.

I even confessed my worries about their trip to Bali. How seeing them together, so close, made me feel uneasy. I knew I should trust Alexia, but the way Marina clung to her, the familiarity they shared, it gnawed at me.

And then tonight, when Marina confronted me, telling me I didn’t deserve Alexia, it was like all those buried feelings suddenly rose to the surface.

Alexia listened quietly, her hands never leaving my face. Her expression shifted from confusion to understanding, and finally, to a soft, compassionate gaze.

When I finished, there was a moment of silence between us, the weight of my words hanging in the air.

Finally, Alexia spoke, her voice gentle and reassuring. “No tenía idea de que te sentías así. Lo siento mucho. No debiste haber pasado por eso solo” (I had no idea you felt this way. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.) Her thumbs gently stroked my cheeks, her eyes filled with sincerity as she continued. “You’re the one I want to be with, Y/N. No one else. Marina is my past. You’re my present and my future.”

Hearing her say those words brought a wave of relief over me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I just didn’t know how to tell you,” I admitted softly, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief.

Alexia pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me close. “No tienes que enfrentar esto solo, cariño” (You don’t have to face this alone, baby) she whispered into my hair.

I felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me as I finally let everything out to Alexia. Not once did she question or doubt me; throughout the entire conversation, she listened intently, trusting every word I said.

Her belief in me, without hesitation, made me feel seen and understood in a way that I desperately needed.

As we pulled away from our embrace, Alexia leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t just a simple kiss—it was soft, tender, yet filled with a deep, burning passion that made my heart race. Her lips moved slowly against mine, savoring every moment.

Gradually, she parted my lips with hers, gently slipping her tongue into my mouth. The sensation was intoxicating, and I couldn’t help but respond by wrapping my arms even tighter around her neck, pulling her closer.

Our tongues began to dance together, slow and sensual, each movement deliberate and full of emotion. It was as if time had slowed down, and all that existed was the connection between us.

The kiss deepened, becoming more intense, yet still maintaining that careful, passionate rhythm. Every touch, every caress of her tongue against mine, spoke volumes—words of reassurance, love, and unspoken promises that everything would be okay as long as we were together.

But we were interrupted by a deliberately loud cough. Turning around, we saw Alba standing there with a mischievous smirk on her face. “Vamos, enamorados, es hora del pastel” (Come on, lovers, it’s time for the cake) she said playfully, and then turned on her heel to head back inside.

“Vamos, amor,” Alexia said, gently wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing a soft kiss to my temple. She whispered reassuringly, “Lo resolveré, lo prometo” (I’ll sort this out, I promise) and I smiled at her, feeling comforted.

For the rest of the evening, Alexia remained by my side. She was constantly close to me, her touch a constant reassurance. Whether it was her arms draped around my shoulders or waist, or her hand resting warmly on my thigh while we sat, she made sure I felt her presence.

Meanwhile, Marina continued to glare at me from across the room. Her looks were so intense that it felt as if they could pierce through me. If stares could kill, I’d be six feet under.

——

The party had finally come to an end, and I was utterly exhausted. After hours of mingling, dancing, and celebrating, it was a relief when we all gathered to say our goodbyes.

As we stepped outside into the cool night air, Alexia, Alba, Marina, and I made our way to the car, ready to head home.

In my mind, I figured we’d settle into the same seats we had on the way there—keeping things simple and familiar. But, of course, Marina had other ideas.

Without hesitation, she made her way to the backseat, where Alexia was already comfortably seated, and slid in beside her. I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of annoyance but decided not to make a fuss.

Instead, I silently took my place in the front passenger seat, feeling a bit put out by the change in seating arrangements.

Just as I was fastening my seatbelt, Alexia turned to Alba and said, “Alba, cambiemos de asientos. Yo conduciré” (Alba, let's swap seats. I’ll drive) Her voice was calm but decisive, and before I could even process it, she was already stepping out of the car to make the switch.

Alba, too tired to protest, simply nodded and got out of the driver’s seat, making her way to the back without a word.

She was clearly as drained as the rest of us, and the prospect of letting someone else handle the drive home was a welcome relief.

Alexia took over the driver’s seat, and as she settled in, she looked over at me with a mischievous, teasing smile. It was the kind of smile that made me chuckle inwardly, knowing she was up to something.

I couldn't help but smile back, appreciating the subtle yet calculated move she’d just made.

As I glanced in the rearview mirror, I caught sight of Marina’s expression. She was frowning, clearly displeased with the way things had unfolded. It was obvious that she wasn’t happy about the seating arrangement, and that brought a small, satisfied smirk to my lips.

That’s right, Marina, she doesn’t want to sit next to you. Bitch.

With a smooth turn of the key, Alexia started the car, and we began the drive home, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

The night outside was peaceful, a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere of the party we had just left behind. At some point during the drive, I felt Alexia’s hand gently rest on my knee, a warm and comforting gesture that instantly made me relax. Without thinking, I reached down and placed my hand over hers, our fingers naturally intertwining.

Alexia lifted our joined hands and brought them to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand.

The simple, affectionate gesture made me smile, and I glanced over at her, feeling a quiet happiness settle over me. Moments like this, shared in the quiet of the night, made everything else fade into the background.

Finally arriving at my apartment, I unbuckled my seatbelt and took a deep breath. “Muchas gracias por el ride. Realmente me divertí mucho esta noche. Buenas noches, chicas.” (Thank you so much for the ride. I really had a great time tonight. Goodnight, girls) I said with a smile, directing my words mostly to Alexia and Alba, before stepping out of the car.

“Espera, te acompañaré hasta la puerta” (Wait, I’ll walk you to your door) Alexia quickly offered, already unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

“Si us plau, Alexia, afanya’t! Estic esgotada i només vull tornar a casa” (Please, Alexia, hurry up! I’m exhausted and just want to go home) Marina grumbled in Catalan from the backseat. Although I couldn’t understand what she said, but knowing her it might be something stupid.

Alexia just nodded at her words without responding and gently closed the car door behind her. She came around to my side and took my hand, her touch warm and reassuring as she led me to the entrance of my building. The night air was cool, and the quiet of the street felt like a peaceful contrast to the earlier excitement.

When we reached my apartment door, I fumbled with the keys for a moment before unlocking it. Turning to Alexia, I smiled and said, “Thank you, Ale. I really appreciate you walking me up.”

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her close. Her arms slid around my waist, and she leaned in, kissing me softly.

The feeling of her lips against mine sent a wave of warmth through me, and I savored the moment, not wanting it to end.

"My pleasure, mi amor," she whispered against my lips, her voice tender and full of affection. As she held me close, she gently squeezed me, her embrace making me feel safe and cherished.

Her eyes locked with mine, and she smiled softly, a look of pure love and contentment on her face.

“What is it?” I asked, mirroring her smile, feeling a quiet happiness settle between us.

“Nothing,” she said smiling softly.

I furrowed my brows playfully.

She grinned teasingly at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in for another kiss. Just as our lips were about to meet, the sound of a honk from the car broke the moment.

Alexia sighed softly but then gave me a quick peck on the lips. “ Está bien, cariño, tengo que irme ahora. Que tengas una buena noche, y te veré pronto” (Alright, baby, I need to go now. Have a good night, and I’ll see you soon) she said, her voice reluctant but loving. She kissed me once more, this time lingering for a moment longer before finally pulling away.

As she turned to leave, I watched her walk back to the car, feeling the warmth of her presence linger even after she was gone.

——

On Saturday night, I found myself at Alexia’s apartment, surrounded by her friends for a lively game night. The atmosphere was buzzing with laughter and chatter, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Well, almost everyone.

Marina was there too, Alexia apologized she did not know that she was coming, Mark had invited her. From the moment I stepped through the door, she had been glaring at me like I was her worst enemy. It wasn’t surprising—she had a habit of throwing daggers my way whenever we were in the same room. What else is new?

I tried not to let her icy stares get to me as I busied myself in the kitchen, refilling a bowl of chips for everyone. As I reached for the bag, I suddenly felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around my waist from behind, pulling me into a warm embrace.

A soft, lingering kiss was placed on the side of my neck, and I instantly relaxed, knowing it was Alexia.

“The next game, you’re on my team. Alba’s terrible—I keep losing because of her,” Alexia mumbled against my neck, her voice laced with playful frustration.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her complaint, the sound bubbling up easily as I leaned my head back against her shoulder. I tilted my face up to hers, planting a series of light kisses on her cheek, one after another, as if to soothe her grumpiness.

“Please stay the night here,” she murmured, her tone softer now, as she gently swayed us from side to side. “Y mañana, podemos ir a comer juntos” (And tomorrow, we can go on a lunch date.)

Her request was sweet and impossible to resist. How could I say no to spending more time with her?

“I’d love to spend the night here,” I replied, my voice just as gentle. The thought of staying over and then enjoying a relaxed lunch date the next day sounded perfect.

Before we could get too lost in the moment, Alba’s loud voice echoed from the living room, interrupting us. “¡Y/N! Estamos esperando las patatas, ¡date prisa!” (Y/N! We’re waiting for the chips, hurry up!)

I chuckled at her impatience and gently pushed Alexia away, though I was reluctant to leave the comfort of her arms. "Vamos," I said with a grin, taking her hand and leading us back to the living room where the rest of the group was waiting.

As we returned to the couch, I couldn’t help but notice Marina’s eyes on us again, her expression as sour as ever. But I didn’t let it bother me. Instead, I squeezed Alexia’s hand, feeling content and happy to be by her side.

After continuing with our games for a while, we decided to take a short break. I casually announced that I was heading to the bathroom and left the group, leaving behind the lively chatter and laughter that filled Alexia’s apartment.

In the bathroom, I took a moment to freshen up, washing my hands and collecting my thoughts. But as I turned to leave, I found Marina blocking the doorway, her eyes fixed on me with a cold intensity.

The air felt heavy with tension, and I knew immediately that this wasn't going to be a pleasant encounter.

“Que?” (What?) I asked, frustration bubbling up inside me as I faced her.

“Te dije que te mantuvieras alejado de Alexia” (I told you to stay away from Alexia) she hissed, her voice sharp and menacing.

I met her gaze without flinching. “Y yo te dije que Alexia no te quiere. Ella no te ama” (And I told you that Alexia doesn’t want you. She doesn’t love you) I replied firmly, trying to keep my voice steady.

Marina’s expression shifted, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “¿Es así? Entonces, ¿por qué me invitó a su casa mañana por la noche?” (Is that so? Then why did she invite me over to her house tomorrow night?) she sneered, clearly enjoying the confusion that flashed across my face.

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I furrowed my brows in disbelief. Why would Alexia invite Marina over tomorrow night? My mind raced with questions, doubts creeping in despite my best efforts to push them away.

“Es cierto” (That’s right) Marina continued, her voice dripping with malice. “Te lo dije, no te la mereces. ¿De verdad crees que alguien como Alexia se enamoraría de alguien como tú?” (I told you, you don’t deserve her. You really think someone like Alexia would fall in love with someone like you?)

Her words cut deep, and for a moment, I felt the weight of insecurity settle over me. I stood there, struggling to find a response, still reeling from the idea of Alexia inviting Marina over. My confidence wavered, and I started to question everything.

But before I could say anything, Alexia suddenly appeared in the doorway, her presence instantly calming me. She strode over to us with a determined look, positioning herself between me and Marina as if shielding me from the venomous words that had just been spoken.

“Sal de mi apartamento” (Get out of my apartment) Alexia said coldly, her voice firm and unyielding as she stared Marina down.

Marina’s confident smirk faltered, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. “¿Qué? ¿Por qué?” (What? Why?) she stammered, her voice suddenly uncertain.

“No le hablas así. No te amo, no te quiero y nunca lo haré” (You don’t talk to her like that. I don’t love you, I don’t want you, and I never will) Alexia said with a calm but fierce determination. Her words were like a declaration, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “Ella es la única que quiero—nadie más” (She’s the only one I want—no one else) she continued, her finger pointing at me with unwavering certainty.

“Pero… me invitaste a tu casa mañana por la noche para una cita” (But... you invited me over tomorrow night for a date) Marina sputtered, her voice wavering as the realization that she’d misread the situation started to sink in.

“No,” Alexia corrected, her tone icy. “Te invité para hablar sobre la forma en que has estado tratando a Y/N. Pero ahora, lo dejaré muy claro: no debes acercarte an ella, a mí ni a mi hermana nunca máss” (I invited you over to discuss the way you’ve been treating Y/N. But now, I’ll make this very clear—you are not to go near her, me, or my sister ever again.) Alexia’s voice grew more intense, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to Marina, her presence radiating protectiveness.

Relief flooded through me as her words sank in. The doubt that had momentarily clouded my mind vanished, replaced by a deep sense of trust. Of course, Alexia hadn’t invited Marina over for a date. I couldn’t believe I had doubted her, even for a second.

“Ahora, sal de mi apartamento antes de que te lo haga” (Now, get out of my apartment before I make you) Alexia added, her voice low and filled with menace.

Marina looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her tough exterior had crumbled, and all that was left was a girl who had overplayed her hand. She nodded quickly, not daring to argue further, and hurried out of the apartment.

As soon as she was gone, Alexia turned to me, her expression softening. She gently cupped my face in her hands, her touch warm and reassuring. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. The tension that had been building up inside me melted away in her embrace, and I felt safe, secure.

“Don’t thank me, cariño,” Alexia murmured into my hair. “I should have cut her off the moment you told me what she said to you the other night.” She pressed a tender kiss to the top of my head, and I sighed contentedly.

She pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on my cheeks as she studied my face. “¿Necesitas un minuto? ¿O estás lista para volver con los demás?” (Do you need a minute? Or are you ready to go back to the others?) she asked, her thumb gently brushing across my skin in a soothing gesture.

I smiled, feeling lighter and more at ease than I had in a long time. “It’s okay. We can go back,” I told her, feeling genuinely relieved and happy that Marina was finally out of our lives for good.

We made our way back to the living room, where the atmosphere had shifted to one of curiosity and confusion. All eyes were on us as we walked in.

Mark was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with bewilderment. “¿Qué demonios acaba de pasar? Marina salió corriendo del apartamento sin decir una palabra” (What the hell just happened? Marina just bolted out of the apartment without saying a word.)

Alexia and I exchanged a glance before explaining everything that had just unfolded. As we told the story, the shock on everyone’s faces was clear.

“Qué perra. Mejor así” (What a bitch. Good riddance) Mark muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No puedo creer que la invité a Bali con nosotros.”(I can’t believe I invited her to Bali with us) Bianca said with a look of disgust. The rest of the group nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring her revulsion.

One by one, they began apologizing for not realizing sooner how much Marina’s presence had affected me. I finally opened up about how it had hurt when they invited her to Bali, how it made me feel like I was being replaced.

They immediately jumped in with reassurances, insisting that they would never replace me and pulling me into a group hug that felt sincere and warm.

I could see that they genuinely felt bad, especially Alba. She looked particularly upset and even joked that the next time she saw Marina, she wouldn’t hesitate to punch her.

Her words made us all laugh, and I felt a sense of closure, knowing that I was surrounded by people who truly cared about me.

After playing a few more rounds of games, the night slowly came to an end. One by one, everyone said their goodbyes, leaving with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug.

Once Alba hugged me, she leaned in slightly and whispered in my ear, “Diviértete” (Have fun) with a playful tone. She then pulled away, her face lit up with a mischievous grin. I responded by playfully slapping her on the shoulder, grinning as I did.

The laughter and conversation that had filled Alexia’s apartment gradually faded, leaving a peaceful quiet in their wake.

Once it was just the two of us, Alexia and I made our way to her bedroom. She handed me a set of comfortable clothes to sleep in, and as I changed, I couldn’t help but smile at how natural and easy everything felt with her. It was like we’d been doing this forever.

We settled into bed together, a cozy movie playing in the background, but my attention was focused more on Alexia than the screen.

I nestled against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat under my ear. Her hand moved slowly through my hair, each gentle stroke lulling me into a deeper state of relaxation.

Occasionally, her lips would brush against my forehead, the soft, fleeting kisses sending a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite put into words.

In that moment, I felt completely at ease, more relaxed than I’d been in a long time. Everything seemed to be falling into place—except for one lingering question that kept nudging at the back of my mind.

What exactly were Alexia and I now? We acted like a couple, sharing these intimate moments, but she hadn’t officially asked me to be her girlfriend.

And maybe I should be the one to ask her, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right time. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I decided to push it aside for now.

I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow during our date, I reassured myself. Right now, lying here with her, I felt so content and happy that I didn’t want to spoil the moment with overthinking. This was our time, and I wanted to savor every second of it.

As the night went on, the movie became a soft hum in the background, and I found myself drifting off to sleep, still wrapped in Alexia’s arms. Her presence was comforting, her touch soothing, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so safe, so cherished.

When I finally closed my eyes, I fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of my life, knowing that tomorrow would bring the answers I needed. But for now, I was simply happy being right where I was, with her.

——

I woke up to the sensation of soft kisses being placed all over my face.

“Wake up, amor,” I heard Alexia’s raspy voice whispering close to my ear.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Alexia gazing at me with a gentle and affectionate look. “Bon dia,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

“I’m awake,” I replied, stretching and rubbing my eyes after a few moments.

“Puedes arreglarte primero; yo te esperaré” (You can freshen up first; I’ll wait for you) she said with a tender kiss on my forehead before she left the room.

Breakfast was a delightful affair, filled with Alexia’s amazing cooking. We enjoyed a spread of delicious food, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how well she cooked. The meal was accompanied by laughter and stories from her recent trip to Mexico.

After breakfast, we spent a relaxed morning together—watching TV, laughing, and sharing affectionate moments until it was time to head out for our date.

Alexia had once again let me borrow some of her clothes. I adored her style, and her clothes always had that lovely, comforting scent.

“You look beautiful,” Alexia said, taking in my outfit with a warm, appreciative gaze as I blushed.

“Thank you, Ale. You look beautiful too,” I replied, smiling back at her. She responded with a soft, loving smile, holding out her hands for me to take.

“Vamos, mi amor,” she said, intertwining our fingers and giving me a sweet kiss before we left the apartment.

On the way to her car, Alexia was full of affectionate gestures—opening doors for me, kissing my cheek and lips, and showering me with compliments.

Once we were in the car, her hand settled on my knee—a gesture that had become a comforting habit.

After a short drive, we arrived at the restaurant, and I couldn’t help but beam with happiness. It was the same place where we had first met. I looked at her with a knowing smile.

“I love this place. How did you know?” I teased playfully.

“Lucky guess,” she replied with a mischievous grin.

We walked hand in hand to the restaurant, our fingers interlaced. Once seated at our table, we placed our orders and chatted eagerly as we waited for our food.

Our hands remained intertwined on the table as we talked about everything under the sun, savoring each other’s company.

When our food finally arrived—I had, of course, ordered the paella—we eagerly dug in. Amid the conversation, I found myself hesitating to bring up a topic that had been on my mind. Alexia had expressed a desire for us to officially date and for her to be my girlfriend while we were in Australia, but she hadn’t asked me directly since then. I wondered where we stood.

Suddenly, Alexia broke the silence with a question that took me by surprise. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

I stared at her, momentarily stunned and caught off guard. “What?” I managed to say, my mind still racing.

Alexia smiled gently and repeated, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Looking at her with a mix of excitement and affection, I replied, “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Her face lit up with joy as she laughed softly. Leaning across the table, we shared a passionate kiss.

When she pulled back, she whispered “I’m so in love with you”

She’s in love with me. I’ve been waiting for what feels like an eternity to hear those exact words from her. When she finally spoke them, it was like a dream come true.

The way her eyes lit up as she confessed her feelings, and the warmth in her voice made my heart soar.

It felt absolutely incredible to finally hear those words, to know that her love for me is as deep and true as I had always hoped.

“I’m so in love with you too,” I responded, leaning in once more for another kiss.

Words failed to capture the overwhelming happiness I felt in that moment. I was brimming with joy.

“I can’t believe we met at this restaurant, you friend-zoned me here, and now you’ve asked me to be your girlfriend here,” I said, laughing softly as we pulled away from our kiss.

She smiled warmly and joked, “Maybe we’ll get married at this restaurant too.” The idea of marriage made my heart race. We had only been officially together for less than 15 minutes, and here we were, already talking about marriage.

Well, spoiler alert: we didn’t end up getting married at that restaurant, but Alexia did propose to me there, turning that place into a cherished spot in our story.

FIN

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thewritingrowlet · 2 months

Text

The Determined Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal, breeding, daddy kink

word count: 6k+

author's note: well, here's the continuation of The Loving Wife—I hope you like this one

p.s. I want to write about Isa or Seeun next; I hope I have ideas for that.

“Hngh? Huh?”, you mumble as your brain kick-starts your body on a brand-new day. As the rest of your consciousness returns to you, you feel weight on the left side of your body. “Who?”, you take a sniff, “oh, Irene”. After getting a grip on the time and day, you close your eyes to get back to sleep. That is, until you feel Irene poking your cheek. “Good morning, my love”, you greet her with closed eyes. “Good morning, honey”, Irene yawns audibly, “do you have work today?”. You tighten your arms around her, “let’s not start our day like that”. “How do you want to start, then?”, she asks, letting out another yawn after, “do you want to breed me first thing in the morning?”. “God, not this breeding thing again”, you think to yourself, “love, are you that serious about getting pregnant?”. You feel Irene rubbing her face against your chest, “I want to have your child—our child”.

You get on top of your wife and hover closely above her face while your hands are planted on either side of her face, “how badly do you want it?”. In the dark, you see Irene smile warmly, “I want it so fucking bad; I want to make you happy”. You clap your hands twice to turn on the lights—God bless modern technology. “Love, you know I’m happy with what we have. I don’t want to burden you with a child—not to mention that you also have a career to pursue”, you try to reason with her. Irene furrows her eyebrows in anger, dissatisfied by your words, “if you use my career against me one more time, I’m leaving you”. You pull her into a sitting position in front of you, “honey, please; I didn’t mean it like that. Surely you know what I’m getting at”. Irene frees her wrists from your grip and crosses her arms, her gaze straying away from yours, “I don’t want to talk to you today. You can go to work if you want to”.

Irene’s behavior leaves you no choice but to give her some space and hope that time will help her come to reason. “I love you, honey”, you dare say, and a part of you expects a slap on the cheek. Seeing that you’re not getting a response from Irene, you get off the bed and get ready for the day ahead. Since you don’t have eyes on your nape, you can’t see that Irene sheds a tear as she feels rejected by you, the person she can’t live without—the love of her life.

“Good morning, boss!”, Miss Park greets you excitedly as soon as you enter the company building. “Hi, hello. Good morning”, you return her greeting and shake her hand. “You look like you have a lot of things going on right now”, she comments. You let out a heavy sigh, “I do, actually; had a little disagreement with my wife, and she said she wouldn’t talk to me for the rest of the day”. “Ah, sorry about that, boss”, Miss Park, not expecting such answer, clears her throat to cope with the awkwardness, “anyway, you don’t have much today, sir; just proposals and other paperwork to read and sign”. “Thank you, Miss Park”, you part ways with her in front of the elevator that leads to your office.

You start your routine of hanging your suit jacket on the headrest of your chair and waking up your computer from its slumber. “That’s a lot of emails—how are there 22, man?”, you eye the list of unread emails on your screen, and you see that some of them are paid leave applications that are pending your approval.

When you started your company, you made a commitment to approve such applications without questions and encourage department heads under your command to follow suit. It’s not like it’s a complicated process, anyway; one just needs to fill out a form they can get from HR, ask their manager and head of department to sign it, and then wait for your approval. Such simple steps are set in place to make sure that employees can take a leave in a timely manner—no need to be kneeling and begging for this. Combined with the rules the company has set, you’ve seen reports from employees saying that they’re satisfied with your system.

“Oh, his child is hospitalized; I should visit them later”, you comment as you see an application from a certain Mr. Lee Minhyung from the marketing department. “That’s one down; a few more to go”. You click on the arrow to go to the next email, one from Miss Kim Minjeong, “wait, that’s Mr. Lee’s wife, no?”. Of course you remember; HR notified you by letter and asked you to fire one of them when they learned that they were a married couple.

You read the content of the email, and obviously, she’s also applying for a paid leave; it’s their child who is hospitalized. “Yeah, easy”, you apply your digital signature on the letter as a sign of approval, just like you did with her husband’s. As you’re moving your cursor to go to the next, you wonder what it’s like to have a child, and importantly, what it’s like to be in a crisis involving your child. “I wonder if Irene is ready for such situations”, you sigh, “why are you so determined to have a child, my love?”.

“Miss Park, tell Mr. Oh to put the parcel in the car; I’m coming down in a bit”, you say to your secretary over the phone. After getting an answer from her, you put on your jacket and walk out of your office, towards the elevator.

You see a handful of heads of departments on your way down, as they take the same elevator you are. “Any news, ladies and gentlemen?”, you ask. “My son is getting married next week, director—you’re invited to the wedding, by the way”, Mr. Shim, head of IT, shares the good news with you. You shake his hand firmly, “congratulations, Mr. Shim. Send me the details and I’ll be there”.

The rest of your conversations with them are cut short when the elevator stops and opens on the bottom floor, indicating your time to leave. “I’m going to visit someone’s child at the hospital; I’ll see you later”, you exchange goodbyes with the crowd and turn around towards Mr. Oh and Miss Park who are already waiting for you next to your car.

“Is everything in there?”, you ask Miss Park. “Yes, sir. Would you like to be driven for?”, she asks. You shake your head, “no, but I want you to come with me; I’ll need help carrying these stuff—c’mon, let’s go”. You get in your car with Miss Park and drive to the hospital, where the child is hospitalized.

“Excuse me, director”, Miss Park starts a conversation as the two of you wait at the red light, “I know this is presumptuous of me, but can I ask what’s happening between you and your wife?”. “She wants to have a child, Miss Park—that’s all you need to know”, you explain briefly, “why?”. Miss Park pulls out a small envelope from her jacket, “your wife stopped by earlier and gave me this”. You take the envelope from her hands and put it in your pocket, “thanks, I’ll see what this is about later”.

You walk with Miss Park towards the child’s room with your hands full of stuff. You’re carrying a basket of fruits in one hand and a box of pudding in the other, while Miss Park is carrying some food for the parents. “Knock on the door, Miss Park. My hands are full”, you gesture to her with your head. Miss Park knocks three times, and not long after, the door swings open. “Director! Miss Park!”, Mr. Lee exclaims, “wha-what are you doing here?”. “Hi there”, you smile, “oh, y’know, just wanted to see your son; maybe I can lift his spirits or something”.

Mr. Lee welcomes you in, and you immediately make eye contact with the boy lying in bed. “Hey, bud. How are you feeling?”, you show him a friendly side of you. He smiles weakly and tells you that he’s feeling better compared to yesterday. “That’s great to hear”, you show him the bag with the pudding in it, “I have some pudding for you, buddy—ask your mom to cut it for you, okay?”. The boy giggles in excitement, and you feel a surge of warmth that you don’t think you’ve felt before.

You grab a chair and sit next to him after handing the stuff to Mr. Lee and his wife. “Hey, buddy”, you gently rub the back of his hand that’s not connected to the IV drip, “what happened to you?”. “I remember feeling weak and blacking out at school, but I don’t remember anything else, sir”, he recalls. “You must’ve been so tired after studying so hard, haven’t you?”, you look over your shoulder and see that Mr. Lee and his wife are smiling at you, seemingly in approval of your actions, “your parents must be proud of you, bud; you look like someone who works hard for school”. The boy beams, and he decides to brag about his grades, “I got a 90 on my last math test, sir!”. You chuckle out loud and pet his head gently, “oi, great job, you! Hey, guess what: I’ll buy you some shoes to wear to school after you leave this place—how does that sound, buddy?”.

You leave the boy’s side after getting a high five from him, and it is now time to speak with his parents. Mr. Lee shakes your hand, “thank you so much, director. About my work—“. You cut Mr. Lee off with a pause gesture, “please, let’s not worry about that right now; I’m not here to talk about your work. Your son is more important than any work, Mr. Lee”. He smiles and bows in gratefulness, “thank you so much, director. I promise I will always work hard”. You pat him on the back while laughing, “you like making me get richer, don’t you, Mr. Lee?”.

When you turn your attention to Miss Kim, she bows in respect. “Thank you for visiting, Mr. Director. It means a lot to us”, she says. It must be true that it only uses two muscles to smile, because you’re not tired of smiling—not even in the slightest. “I’m just trying to help the both of you—ah, can I address the both of you casually? We’re not at the office, are we?”, you say to Miss Kim and her husband. Miss Kim nods, “of course you can, director. Feel free to call us by name”.

You grab the bag of food from the table and hand it to them, “I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but if you haven’t, please eat now; I have some sandwich for both of you. Miss Park will keep an eye on your son”. Mr. Kim and his wife say goodbye to their son and tell him that Miss Park will stay with him while they eat, getting a nod in response. “Can we talk while you eat, actually?”, you say to them, and they nod at you, “follow me outside, please”.

You sit on the sofa near the nurses’ station with the couple. “I have some questions if you don’t mind, Minhyung-ah”, you initiate the conversation. “Of course, director. Ask away”, he says. You start by explaining your situation first, “here’s the thing, my wife has been begging me to make her pregnant, and admittedly, I’ve been rejecting her request because she has quite the career and I don’t want her to just throw it away, considering how long it has taken her to build it”. Mr. Lee and Miss Kim look at each other before turning back to you, “I’m guessing you’re curious what it’s like to have a child, especially as a working couple”. “That’s spot-on, Minhyung-ah”, you give him a thumbs-up, “so, can you tell me?”.

“I’ll start first—y’know, as a dad and all that”, Mr. Lee takes a deep breath before sharing his perspective, “personally, director, we were also concerned about our careers at first, but having a child has been the greatest thing in our lives”. Truthfully, you’re surprised to hear such an answer, but before you make any judgment, you ask Miss Kim to share her thoughts first. “I agree with my husband, Mr. Director”, Miss Kim says, “I must say, though, seeing your child get sick hurts so damn bad—this isn’t the first time Daeyoung-ie has been hospitalized, and seeing him lie in bed like that hurts so, so much”. You want to open your mouth, but Miss Kim isn’t done talking just yet. “I can’t explain it but love for your child isn’t similar to love for your spouse, director—something about being willing to do anything for your child isn’t comparable to anything else”, she piles on.

You stay silent as you try to process everything you just heard. “That’s quite the answer, actually”, you rub your chin, “I’ll talk with my wife about it, I guess”. Mr. Lee glances at his wife quickly before turning back to you, “I don’t know about you, director, but the process of making a child is very, uh, fun”. You chuckle out loud, and you see that Miss Kim is smacking her husband while blushing. “I’m sure it is, Minhyung-ah—I mean, look at you: clearly you had fun”, you shake your head in amusement, “alright, Miss Park and I will be leaving after this. I’ll keep my promise and buy your son some new shoes after he’s out of this place, but you’ll need to remind me”.

Irene’s Genesis is parked at its usual spot in front of your house, and you feel excited to talk with her about getting her pregnant. You get out of the car after parking it next to hers and run straight to the house. “I’m ho—what the fuck!?”, you see Irene lying on the carpet in front of the TV with nothing but bra and panties on. “Irene? Love?”, you slap her cheeks gently but rapidly to get her to open her eyes, “honey, wake up, please”. You look around the house for signs of what has happened, and you see a tall bottle of whiskey that is almost empty sitting on the table in front of the sofa—no shot glass means that she must’ve drunk it straight from the bottle.

“I… hate you…”, Irene says weakly, her eyelids too heavy to open, “s-stay away f-from me”. Not the best thing you could hear right now, but you’re glad that she’s okay, just drunk—verydrunk. “Let’s move you to the bedroom, okay?”, you carry her bridal style—it reminds you of your first day of being married, actually—and walk towards the bedroom. “P-put me down, y-you bastard”, Irene wiggles around, attempting to free herself from your arms, “I-I’m calling the police if-if you don’t put me down”. Irene has never been this drunk before, and honestly, you don’t know how to take care of her in this state—doesn’t mean you won’t try, though.

You place her on the floor momentarily while you grab a blanket and spread it on the bed. You pick up your wife from the floor and put her in the middle of the blanket and wrap her body with it, just in case she loses control of her actions and starts throwing punches or kicks. “W-what are you doing to me, you asshole—let me go!”, Irene tries to free herself from the blanket burrito, but since she’s very drunk, she’s not strong enough to do anything other than to run her mouth. “Love, it’s me”, you softly say to her, “you’re very drunk, aren’t you, baby?”. “Heheheheh”, Irene laughs, seemingly mocking you, “me? drunk? I’m on cloud nine right now, baby—had to-to take care of myself since my husband wouldn’t”.

Her words sound particularly painful to you right now. You went from feeling excited about talking to her about having a child, to feeling sad about the sight in front of you, and you feel powerless to do anything but let tears run down your cheeks. “Alcohol brings out the best of us, doesn’t it, love?”, you wipe your tears, hoping that doing so will help you calm down faster, “I guess this is how we wrap things up today”.

In your peaceful sleep, you’re shown glimpses of what having a child would be like. First, you’re shown a projection of Irene with a big belly; “we have a child, love! I’m so happy to have a child!”, she says. You really want to keep watching this clip, but your brain wants to move on to the next, which is one where Irene is doing tiny jumps while holding your baby, who is wrapped in a small blanket; “who is my good boy, hm? Who is my lovely, handsome boy?”. Like before, your brain quickly moves on to the next part of your dreams. You’re shown images in quick succession of your child taking his first steps, going to school for his first day, and finally, the moment where he makes a vow to never stop loving his wife, and to continue to be with her until death do them part—the speed makes it almost feels like someone is holding down the right arrow key during a PowerPoint presentation.

As soon as the presentation finishes, you’re stirred awake by your brain, as if telling you to start working on making it into reality. Your ability to vividly remember dreams isn’t always helpful because you can indeed remember everything, no matter how scary or joyful it is. “I had a dream, baby”, you say in a soft voice to Irene, who is still wrapped in a blanket, “I saw what it’d be like if we had a child—it was such a beautiful dream, my love”. You rub her exposed cheeks gently as you narrate the rest of your dream to your wife.

“Ah, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep, love. I’ll go back to sleep now—good morning, by the way”, you say to her as you close your eyes and get ready to get back to sleep. “Wait!”, Irene exclaims in a tiny voice, taking you by surprise, “wait, don’t go back to sleep yet”. You lift your head off your pillow and take a good look at your wife. “Are you alright, love?”, you ask her, trying to gauge her mood. With how limited her mobility is in the burrito, Irene can only shake her head. “N-no, I’m not”, she starts tearing up, “p-please hold me in your arms”.

You unwrap the blanket and hold Irene in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry about the blanket, love. I was just concerned about you punching or kicking me while being drunk”, you spray pecks on her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry”, Irene apologizes as tears start freely flowing out of her eyes, “I-I didn’t have anyone to talk to, s-so I resorted to drinking—please forgive me, my love”. Since Irene is in the mood for apologies, you decide to follow it up with one of yours; “I got your letter yesterday, love. I understand what you were saying, and I’m sorry for not calling you or saying anything back”. Irene shakes her head, “n-no, it-it’s okay, I understand. I-I was just so fucking desperate to do something, s-so I decided to write you a letter”.

As soon as Irene stops crying, you move on to the next subject, which is your little trip to the hospital to visit your employee’s son. “Love, I visited someone’s son at the hospital yesterday”, you say to her, “he fainted at school and was taken to the hospital after that”. “Oh, poor boy”, Irene comments, showing empathy, “so, what then?”. You tell her that you and Miss Park brought some stuff for the boy and his parents; “I also promised him that I’d buy him some new shoes to wear to school”. Irene pecks your cheek as a sign of approval of your actions, “good thinking, my love”.

“Not just that, though”, you pile on, “I also asked the parents what it was like to see their son lie in bed sick like that”. “Yeah? What did they say?”, she asks. You take a deep breath first, “they said that it’s such a painful sight—this wasn’t the first time the boy had been hospitalized, by the way”. Irene can sense that something else is coming from you, so she urges you to keep going. “I just kept thinking about whether you’d be ready for such thing, should it happen to us and our child”.

Irene holds your hands tightly and rubs the back of them gently. “I’ll need you to be with me every step of the way. If I have you next to me, I’ll face anything head on”, she says. You put on an assuring smile, “of course I’ll be there with you, love. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, is it?”.

Irene gathers her strength and mounts your body, “does that mean you’ll be breeding me? That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”. You run your thumb across her lips, “yes, love, but I want you to do something first”. “What? What is it? Tell me”, Irene starts getting excited at the prospect of getting pregnant. “We’ll be having a lot of sex in the next few days, so I want you to grab a pen and paper and write down your consent so that I won’t have to keep asking”, you say to her. Irene jumps off the bed and runs—or stumbles, rather—out of the bedroom to do what you ask, and while you wait for her, you decide to get ready for sex; you take off your clothes but leave the boxers on for Irene to do the honors and lie down on the bed.

“Here! Here!”, Irene enters the bedroom running and shows you a small piece of paper. You grab the letter from her hands, “let’s see what you wrote, hey?”.

“My name is Bae ‘Irene’ Joohyun, and I am the wife of Director Kang Junho.

I hereby declare that I consent to everything that my beloved husband will be doing to me, as we are trying to have a child of our own. If he wishes to have sex, then I shall comply without asking questions, for I am his beloved wife.

His for eternity,

Irene”

“I know you’re still hungover, but I’ll accept this anyway”, you chuckle as you climb onto the bed, “are we ready?”. Irene joins you in bed and kneels next to you, looking down at herself. “Lo-love”, she says with a tiny voice, “I-I know your dream was about a son, b-but you—erm—you don’t mind having a daughter, do you?”. You take her hands in yours, “of course not, love. Having a child is already such a blessing—it matters little if it’s a boy or a girl”. Irene looks at you with a smile, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you”. “Nah-nah-nah”, you deflect, “you just kept saying breed me over and over again”. Irene moves to sit on your lap and pecks you on the lips, “I mean, that’s how a woman gets pregnant”.

“My love, listen to me, please”, you inhale deeply, “I promise you this will be the last time I ask this: what about your career?”. Irene rubs your cheek gently, “love, I don’t care about my career; motherhood will be my greatest achievement—ask me one hundred more times, and I’ll give you the same answer each time”. You move to sit with Irene in your lap. “I will be there with you, love; I’ll be the best father I can be for our children”. “Children?”, Irene bursts out in laughter, “goodness me—now you want to have more than one”.

That’s enough yapping and laughing—it’s now time to fill your wife with baby batter. You place your palms on either side of Irene’s hips and lock eyes with her, confusing her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, she asks. You smirk, “just thinking about what position I want to fuck you in”. She blushes in response, “w-whatever it is, m-make sure you cum inside”.

You scoot backwards until your back can lean against the headboard. “You want me to ride you, honey?”, she asks, “but what if the cum drips out?”. You shrug, “I’ll just fill you up again”. “Yeah, we can do that”, Irene unlatches her bra and hands it to you, “hold on to this, honey”. Let’s be real, you have better things to hold on to, such as her ass and tits—eh, actually, let’s entertain her for now.

Irene fondles her tits, weighing them with her hands, “do you think they’ll grow bigger, honey?”. You shake your head, clueless, “I don’t know how it works, love. We’ll have to see”. She then holds your hands and places them on her tits, “touch me, please”. “Gladly, baby”, you lick her nipple to tease her.

Irene is great at reacting to stimulations; you’re barely doing anything with her tits, and she’s already squirming around. “Mo-more”, Irene yelps, “oh, please—more”. “Do you think you can give me some breast milk right now?”, you tease her as you squeeze her tits, as if trying to get breast milk out of them. “Prob-probably not”, Irene throws her head back, “I-I don’t think it works like that”. “Ah, unfortunate”, you pinch her nipples, “would love to taste some right now”. It is when you latch your mouth on her boob that Irene starts moaning loudly. “Oh, yes, big baby”, Irene palms the back of your head, “big baby can make small babies”. You want to laugh, but you haven’t had enough of your wife’s tits just yet.

Irene’s impatience is showing, as she picks up the pace of her humps. “Please fuck me already”, she begs, “don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to fill me?”. You reach down towards your crotch and hers, “you’re so wet, aren’t you, love?”. “And-and you’re so hard”, she replies. “You know why I’m hard, baby?”, you ask, teasing her one last time. “Y-you—oh, God—you’re hard because you want to fuck me”. You praise her by pinching her nipples, “good answer, baby—now let’s start, hm?”.

You lean back against the headrest and tell Irene that she’s free to do whatever she wants with you. You see that Irene wants to free your cock from your boxers, so you help her out and lift your butt off the bed momentarily. “Who needs a career when you can just spend your days worshipping a cock like this?”, Irene utters, her eyes locked on your erection, “skip work this week, please. It’s not like they can fire you”. True, no one can fire you, but there’s something odd about not going to work, especially as the big boss. “I’ll see what I can do, baby”, you promise her. You keep an eye on Irene, “do you want to suck me off first, baby?”. Your words snap Irene out of her little trance, stopping her from mindlessly stroking your cock; “n-no, let’s skip past that”.

Irene takes off her panties and guides your cock towards her entrance. “I want you so bad, baby”, you egg her on. It is an exaggeration, yeah, but it always works—look, Irene is going down on your cock while moaning! “Oppa”, she calls you by an endearment from way back when, “do you remember our first time?”. You start flipping the pages of your memory to recollect and find the memory with little trouble. “How can I not, love?”, you smile, “you’re my first and only”. Irene lets out a soft yelp when she finally manages to fit your whole shaft inside. “Y-you let me be on top be-because you wanted me to get used to you”, Irene closes her eyes and starts rolling her hips back and forth, “you were splitting me in half, oppa”. Irene’s tight-but-wet grip makes you moan, “it was really hard for me to not just bust right away right there, love”. “Yeah?”, Irene teases with a smirk, “let’s see how long you can hold it in now”.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight”, you grit your teeth, “I love it—I love you”. Irene likes dirty talk, but words of love and affirmation work better on her, proven by how she’s picking up the pace of her bounces. “Yes! Fuck, yes!”, she yells, “I’m perfect for you, daddy!”. You pull her closer to your face so that you can kiss her and show her how much you love her. “Come on, baby. You can do this—fuck, you’re so good to me”, you whisper to her. She plants her forehead on your shoulder and begs for help; “please, please fuck me like you usually do, daddy”. You comply to her request by thrusting up and meeting her in the middle, timing it perfectly to make sure that you can reach her deepest spots.

Irene’s moans are one of the many things you will never get tired of in your marriage. The perfect mix of low- and high-pitched moans (and the occasional yelps and screams, too) makes you feel really good about yourself every single time—the daddy kink is simply the perfect icing on the cake. You don’t really pay attention to yourself, so you don’t know what you look like or what sounds you make during sex, but considering that Irene never complains about it, she probably finds you very attractive during sex—nothing that kills the mood or the like.

“You’re squeezing me, baby”, your focus is turned back to Irene, “you want to cum?”. Irene nods weakly, “please let me cum, daddy”. You never said anything about not letting her cum, but since she’s asking very nicely, she’s more than welcome to cum any time—preferably soon, though; you’re almost on the edge yourself. “Cum for me, baby”, you egg her on, “if you cum now, I’ll breed you”.

Timing couldn’t be any more perfect, as Irene announces that she’s about to cum after a few more bounces. She lets out a very loud scream, but it’s more than fine; it’s not like there’s anyone else in this house other than the two of you—even if the breeding is successful and she’s pregnant, the fruit of the labor won’t be here for another 9 months, so until then, Irene is free to be as loud as she wants.

Irene falls limp to the side, feeling weak from her orgasm, and you use this window to take a breather and get yourself together. “One-one second, please”, Irene squirms around as she basks in the high of her orgasm. “You can take as much time as you want, baby”, you run your hand back and forth on her back to soothe her, “I bet you can’t feel your legs right now”. She chuckles with heavy breaths, “that-that’s your fault, daddy”. You tell her that she can rest while you leave to get some water for her.

When you return, however, you see that Irene’s eyes are closed, and when you lean closer to her, you hear subtle snores coming out of her mouth. You set the glasses of water on the bedside table and pick up the letter to re-read what she’s written. “I consent to everything”, it says, and you’re tempted to push her further. “Let’s see if you’re ready for anal”, you mutter under your breath.

She’s lying flat on her stomach, which allows you access to her rear without having to move her. You make sure that your cock isn’t too dry by slathering spit on the whole thing before you try to pierce her ass. You plant your knees on either side of her closed thighs and spread her cheeks gently to find your target. Even though she has said that she consents to everything, you don’t want to do anything sexual to her while she’s asleep. “Irene, baby”, you pat her cheeks gently to wake her up, “we’re not done yet”. Irene stirs awake and turns her head to look at you, “sorry, daddy; I fell asleep”. You peck the back of her head and tell her that it’s okay. “I’m going again, okay?”.

“Wait, wait—that-that’s not where you breed me, daddy”, Irene grunts in pain when she feels you in her ass. “Consider this your punishment for falling asleep”, you grit your teeth, “fuck, you’re so tight here, too”. “B-but you said it’s okay—AH, FUCK, DADDY!”, Irene lets out a very loud scream when your shaft reaches the deepest point of her ass. “Say your safe word, then”, you challenge her, and Irene shakes her head in response. “N-no, I love getting fucked in the ass”, she grunts, “just don’t cum in my ass, please”. “Oh, yeah, that’s right; we’re trying to get her pregnant”, you think to yourself. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go back to your pussy after this”.

You lean forward a bit and place your hands on the bed to make sure you’re steady. “Be good, baby”, you whisper to her while you prepare your hips to fuck her ass hard. “Pl-please, just fuck me already”, Irene yelps, “fuck my ass, daddy”. That’s a green light as bright as any, so you start doing what you’re in this position for: to fuck her ass.

Irene’s screams of pain start getting replaced with moans of pleasure, as she gets more comfortable with taking you in the ass. “You’re so hard and big, daddy”, she praises you between moans, “you’re so good at fucking me”. Her praise serves as fuel to your fire of lust, and with a grunt, you pick up the pace of your thrusts. Your wife is reduced to just moans, unable to do anything else but lie flat on the bed while your shaft is stretching the muscles of her rear.

You feel that you’re almost there, so you pull out of her ass and roll her onto her back. “I want to see you, baby”, you say to her before plunging back into her pussy. She feebly stretches out her arms, asking you to hold her in yours. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her body, while your lips crash into hers. “We’re going to have a child, baby”, you say in a soft voice.

“Mr. Kang, your wife is about to give birth. Would you like to be present?”, a nurse asks you. “Yes, please”, you get up from the bench, “please show me the way”. The nurse starts walking towards the room where your wife is, and you feel cold sweat running down your forehead. As you follow the nurse, you pray to the higher beings that your wife and daughter will make it out of this in perfect health.

“She’s here, sir”, the nurse opens a door and leads you inside. “Oh my God”, you exclaim; Irene is pinching her thighs until they’re bruised while the rest of her body is drenched in sweat. “My love”, you move to her side and hold her hand to stop her from pinching her thighs, “my God, how can I help you, baby?”.

More and more nurses enter the room, and all you can do is trust them to do what they do best, which is to help during delivery. You try to focus on your wife, but her screams and the nurses’ voices make it very hard for you to do so. One particular scream from Irene wrenches your heart, making you shed a tear. “God, help her, please”, you chant in your head over and over again, praying in your earnest for her and your daughter’s safety.

You slowly open your eyes, and you try to make out where you are right now. You gather your strength and stand up from your seat to check up on Irene. “Wait, that’s—“, you rub your eyes to make clear of the sight in front of you. “This is our daughter, honey”, Irene says tearily, “we have a daughter”. “Oh my God, what a blessing”, you let out a sigh of relief, “what happened to me, though? How did I get here?”. Irene places a hand on your cheeks and rubs it softly, “a nurse said that you passed out, so they had to carry you here”. You feel bad for them for having to carry you as a dead weight and you promise that you’ll compensate them later.

“Love, we have a daughter”, Irene repeats as she breaks down in tears, “we have a daughter—can you believe that?”. You place a hand on Irene’s head to soothe her, while you use your other hand to reach for your little daughter. “Hi, baby”, you say gently, “welcome to the world, little one”. The sight makes you shed tears of your own—who knew it would turn out like this, because you certainly didn’t. “What’s her name, honey?”, Irene asks. “Yeseo”, you wipe the tears off your cheeks and peck your daughter over the blanket that’s covering her (because you don’t want to compromise her hygiene or something like that), “your name is Yeseo, my dear—my sweet, sweet daughter”.

“Welcome home!”, you excitedly open the doors of your house and lead your wife and daughter, who is peacefully sleeping in her arms, inside. Once they’re in, you close the doors behind you and lead them to sit on the sofa. “I love you so much, baby”, you say to Irene. “I love you so much more, honey”, she replies, “and I love you so much, Yeseo-yah”. You look at your daughter lovingly, and you really want to give her a peck. “Can I peck her, love?”, you ask your wife, earning a laugh from her. “Of course you can; you’re her father”.

Irene hands Yeseo over to you, and you make sure that your arms are perfectly steady. “Yeseo-yah, I love you so much”, you say in the gentlest voice you can come up with, “I will protect you and your mother with my life”. Obviously, she can’t say anything back to you, but you’d like to think that she can hear you, and what’s better for Yeseo to hear first thing than words of love from her parents?

“Love, I want to celebrate”, you say to your wife, your gaze still locked on your baby. “Yeah? How?”, Irene asks, “you want to make more babies?”. “Seriously?”, you look at her with an I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that face, “no, love; I don’t want to make another one just yet”. Irene laughs out loud, “oh, you know, I was just making sure—so how do you want to celebrate?”. You gently run a finger on Yeseo’s cheek, “I want to make her birthday a holiday at the company, and I want to raise everyone’s salary by 8%”. Your wife moves to sit closer to you and wraps an arm around your back, “yeah, that sounds like a good celebration”.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #red velvet smut #irene smut

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totaly-obsessed · 5 months

Text

A Lesson in Accepting

Barcelona Femení x reader

-> Despite reader's best efforts to hide her illness and join in training, a she learns the importance of listening to her body and her teammates

-> Wordcount: ≈ 1.770

-> The happiest birthday to @sleekswosobession - love you!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Oye! No chiqui - off!”

Hmmpf.

Out of all the older players, Lucy was usually the fun one. But today she didn’t want you climbing on her and she had gotten annoyed when you tried to steal her shoes. Maybe a new victim was needed for your shenanigans. But who?

Just as you started to look around for Vicky, the arm of Marta found its way onto your shoulder, Caroline now at the other side as they dragged you into the changing rooms. “Don’t even think about it.”

Music blasted through the room, with Salma by the speakers as her phone was connected to it, getting ready while swaying to her music. A quick look around made it obvious that your cubby for the day was between Frido and Ingrid.

Great.

You missed the days were you were at your rightful place between Patri and Cata, Claudia joining you after quickly changing into her kit. Those were the fun days when you had just joined the team. Fresh from Australia and full of energy and nerves Patri and Claudia had taken you under their wing.

Just two weeks later Alexia fell over her tied-together laces, just to see you laughing in a corner, hiding behind your new friends. The room had fallen quiet, everyone scared of what their captain would do.

Laugh.

Alexia Putellas, their strong and serious captain, started laughing at being tricked by a sixteen-year-old Australian rookie. Hesitantly the other players started to laugh, watching the blonde from the corner of their eyes, just to make sure that she wouldn’t get pissy at them laughing.

But now you were stuck between different adults every week, your number never hanging in the same spot, and for today's game, it was the space between two tall scandis. While they were incredibly nice, neither of them had a fable for letting you run wild - but they let you yap as much as you want. A win is a win. And at this point, you’d take anything.

Rainy games were your favorite games. You loved sliding around on the drenched pitch, tackling an opponent whenever you could, and getting your kit as dirty as possible. And that game was no different.

Sliding here - sliding there.

Mapi thought it was hilarious how you sprinted across the waterlogged pitch, stealing the ball of one opponent after the other.

“Chiqui come here and let me dry your hair, you’ll get sick.”

Irene was in mother mode, fussing over you and Vicky, who looked like the two happiest girls on the planet. Both of you had been in the starting eleven, something that didn’t happen as often. But with the weather conditions and the not-as-competitive opponent, Jona caved to your synchronized begging.

“I won’t. Promise!”

And with that, you were off again. Running outside, leaving the changing room early. Jona had been quick with his talk and the girls were just warming up and getting something to eat or massaged. But you run out to play on the field with the girls sitting on the bench.

Bruna and Jana made it a fun game, sending the ball just slightly wide every time, so that you had to be quick, falling over more than once during it.

Alexia just shook her head in amusement when she came back to the pitch, the other girls following in their captain's stride.

“Chiquitita wear a jacket for me please?” The Catalan’s English was great, even if she was too shy to speak it most of the time. Her hands held out a jacket to you, an eyebrow raised in question.

“I’ll be okay, thank you, Ale!”

And you would be okay, at least for the rest of the night - giving it your all on the pitch and giving it your all when you were the entertainment of the following movie night. Mapi had given you one of those cheap Karaoke microphones and with that, you kept narrating the movies much to everyone else's annoyance.

Mapi thought you were hilarious though. And with everyone smiling at you even if they acted annoyed, you kept going all the way until Lucy and Ona dropped you off at the apartment Barcelona gave you.

In the beginning, the Team members had been worried about you living there, all alone at only sixteen. But Vicky had been fine - she was an angel as opposed to the whirlwind of an Australian that had been added to the team with you. You would be at training most days anyway and doing stuff with the girls even on days off, so you’d be fine. Right?

Well usually you would be fine, but waking up with an itchy throat, annoying cough, and a runny nose topped by a fever, was not a funny thing.

Just like that, all your plans with Vicky for the day had been canceled. The two of you wanted to explore the city and then visit the library closest to the Sagrada Familia, but all of that went to waste now as you were trying to get rid of this cold as fast as possible.

But it turns out it wasn’t that easy. A day later you were still sick, your voice so hoarse that it was hard to understand. You had debated calling Jona and letting him know, but then Alexia and Irene would have been right when it came to you getting sick. You just needed to power through. Tomorrow you will be all good again.

After oversleeping you practically raced to the training center for gym day. Well raced as fast as you can with public transport - a mask secure on your face. You looked sick enough that strangers raised a brow at your sweaty forehead.

To your luck the changing rooms were empty, all of the girls were already in the gym, so you could change in peace, trying to take deep breaths as well as you could. Man, you hated having a stuffy nose.

The bright lights and the loud music made you wince when you entered the big space, with everyone on different equipment. You quickly explained to Jona that your bus had been late, and just by his facial expression you could see that he didn’t believe a word out of your mouth.

He knew. Fuck. But he didn’t do or say anything, just going over the plan for today with you.

The other girls tried to get a good look at you, whispering to themselves. This wasn’t the first time you had been late. Sometimes the bus really didn’t come, and sometimes you overslept. But the training staff was never too mad at you - you were a growing girl after all, and needed your sleep.

But usually, when you came in, you would go around greeting the girls one by one, telling them the crazy stories of your bus driver. Today, however, you picked out an empty corner, starting to stretch all by yourself.

When one of the trainers called for partner exercises you were quick to kidnap Vicky, who didn’t even react as she was used to your antics by now. But then she looked at you.

“You’re sick!”

“Shhh!”

With, what you thought, quick reflexes you pushed her head down so that she would lower her voice. “Don’t tell on me! Or I’ll tell Sandra.”

The young Spaniard was caught in an odd situation - realistically she knew she should tell Alexia, or at least someone - but she was terrified of the goalkeeper finding out. With a solemn nod, she gave in.

You didn’t believe her, holding onto her right hand as tightly as you could “No! "Promise me!”

“Fine. I promise. Now get your clammy hands off me please.”

Now it wasn’t just you who ran around like a headless chicken, stumbling over nothing and barely strong enough to lift any weight at all, but also Vicky, who desperately tried to avoid eye contact with someone else, whispering hushed annoyances in your ear.

“They’re weird, no?” Aitana had made her way to Alexia, who was watching the whole thing unfold in front of her. “Very weird..", she nodded.

When a break was called, you hurried off to the bathrooms, while Vicky tried to avoid anything and everyone.

But that didn’t hold on for too long, as she was cornered by Alexia, Irene, Aitana, and Ingrid. The other girls watched from a distance, knowing what was happening.

“I don’t know anything!”

“We didn’t say anything.” Irene was trying really hard not to let an amused smile crack through and instead keep up the intimidating frown.

One eyebrow went up. Then the other.

“Okay, fine!”

Alexia relaxed her face again, knowing that had been enough for Vicky to spill everything she knew.

“She’s sick.”

“Chiquitita!”

Ingrid didn’t get an answer and started looking around the facilities as quickly as she could while Aitana tried to console a guilt-ridden Vicky, telling her that she had done the right thing, emphasizing how dangerous it was that you were exercising.

They could hear you coughing before they even saw you, as Ingrid dragged you to the gym as gently as she could, nearly just carrying you.

“Ai Chiqui. What are you doing here, you’re sick amor, you need to rest.”

Alexia's soft mothering tone gave you the rest, tears forming in your eyes. “I’m sorry… Just didn’t want to miss out.” Sobs wrecked your tired body as some of your letters got swallowed.

“Shhh, let’s get you home.” Your captain dried tears after tears as she helped you out of the room and into the showers.

Jona looked happy with how everything turned out, he knew that Alexia would take care of it - her heart was soft for the youngsters on the team, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

On your way out your eyes met Vicky's. “You promised not to tell Vic!”.

“Oye, keep walking, or we’ll call Catley. I’m sure she would love to hear about your situation.” It was Mapi that nudged you, a teasing smile on her face.

Hmmpf.

"Sandra Vicky put shaving cream in your gloves!"

And with that you let your captain drag you out of the room, smiling at the chaos that exploded behind you.

After getting washed up and changed, Ale helped you to her car and started driving to her home, not listening to the whines that you wanted to go to your apartment.

“You can say it now, Ale.”

She could see you were close to falling asleep, head resting on your seatbelt.

“I told you so. Now let’s get you healthy again.”

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #barça femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca women #barca femini x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona women #alexias putellas #alexia putellas x reader #mapi león x reader #mapi leon x reader #irene paredes x reader

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girlgenius1111 · 3 months

Text

by your side

part 2 to responsibility how do you fix something when you don't have all the pieces? how do you heal when you aren't sure you deserve to? basically, r tries to work through the actions of her father, and the grief she feels for her mother. heavy angst but obviously still fluff. also hi thank you @wileys-russo your lil ideas saved this fic

-------

The early hours of the morning had been kind of a blur; one minute, you were cradled in Alexia’s arms in your house. The next minute, or so it felt like, you were being gently laid on the bed in the guest bedroom back at Alexia’s. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or perhaps it was the intense stress of the previous day, but almost as soon as you curled up under the covers on the guest bed, you were out cold. You didn’t remember leaving your house, or getting to Alexia’s. The state you were in worried your captain deeply, and she found herself hesitating in your doorway, terrified to leave you alone again.

Worry was plaguing her, taking over every molecule in her body. This wasn’t a problem Ale could fix, and she hated not being able to solve things. Especially when the issue was hurting someone she cared about. It was only when she felt a gentle hand grab hers that she was brought out of her spiral.

“Come to bed, Ale.” Olga whispered, softly tugging her girlfriend down the hall towards their room. Alexia didn’t resist very much, the allure of falling limp into her girlfriend’s arms in her bed too strong.

“I don’t want to leave her,” she argued weakly, glancing back down the hall towards where you lay peacefully sleeping. Well, sleeping at least.

“She’s asleep, and you need to be too. It’s been a long night for you, Ale, you have to let yourself rest.”

“But-”

“No buts.” Olga interrupted, all but pushing her girlfriend to sit on the edge of the bed before she got a new pair of pajamas out for the blonde. Alexia was very strict about inside clothes and outside clothes, and Olga knew better than to try to get her girlfriend to sleep under the covers in clothes that had left the house. “You can’t help her if you’re exhausted.”

Begrudgingly, Alexia nodded, taking the clothes from Olga and changing quickly.

It was only once they were both back in bed, the lights flicked off and Alexia uncharacteristically curled up with her head on Olga’s chest, that the blonde spoke again. “I can’t fix this, Olga. I don’t know how to help her.”

Olga hummed, dragging her nails slowly up and down her girlfriend’s back. “You don’t need to do it all by yourself. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to a few of your teammates. Ingrid and Mapi can come over and spend time with her, and you’ll bring Irene to go meet with her lawyer and her case worker. The less stress on chiquita, the better. You can tell the club what’s going on. Everyone will come up with a plan, and once there is a plan, you’ll feel better, and so will she. Take it one day at a time, Ale. That’s all you have to do.”

It was amazing how rationally Olga could speak about such a stressful situation. It was also amazing how quickly she calmed Alexia’s anxiety. When Olga laid it all out like that, it seemed manageable. Olga was always right, and the blonde knew that this case wasn’t different. Alexia tucked her face into the brunette’s neck, leaving a soft kiss on the skin there. “One day at a time.” She repeated, whole body relaxing into her girlfriend’s.

One day at a time. Alexia could do that. And so could you, she hoped.

The phone calls that had to be made the next day were difficult, to say the least. Alexia had to explain, several times over, what had happened. To the club, to your lawyer, to a few of your other teammates. Alexia, though, thrived in an environment where there were things to do, tasks to complete. It was easier to approach the situation in a clinical way, like it was a checklist, than to think about the feelings of it all.

She left you with Ingrid and Mapi, who were going to take you to get what you needed from your house, and picked up Irene on her way to the Barça offices. Your social worker, lawyer, the club's lawyer, and a few of the coaches would be meeting her there. That was the next thing for her to check off, yet she was finding it incredibly difficult to keep her feelings in check. She kept seeing flashes of your face when you arrived last night.

In all her years of knowing you, Alexia had never seen you do anything that was even remotely unkind. You were always always kind. It was difficult for her to imagine anyone hurting you, though she occasionally saw it happen on the pitch. What was impossible, though, was trying to figure out how your father had inflicted so much pain onto you. You were so good. Alexia wasn’t sure how, after losing your mom and enduring what you had, you remained purely good. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fucking fair.

-------

“Look at you in this one!” Mapi practically shouted with glee, holding up a photo of a 5 year old you, striking a rather ridiculous pose and sticking out your hand in a peace sign. “Look at your tiny little face!”

You rolled your eyes, shoving yet another photo album into the box. Your mom had loved to take photos, and there were countless albums filled with photos of you. You’d always liked to flip back through them, especially after losing her. The way she photographed; it was as if you could feel her love in the way she captured you.The most mundane things, captured, printed, and saved forever. Everything you did as a child excited your mom, made her beam with pride. It was easier to remember that grin she’d get, when you’d do something to make her laugh, when you looked back through these pictures.

“Is this her?” Ingrid asked softly, holding up another photo, this time of 3 year old you, out cold in your mother’s arms as she smiled hugely at the camera. Your father must have taken that one. As always when you saw a photo of her, you felt a pang of longing in your chest, one that never eased with time. Sometimes, grief rushed through you with such power, you felt like you could double over in pain. Even now, even years later. That was something that never got better.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

Ingrid smiled, handing it to Mapi, who also inspected it closely.

“She looks kind.” Ingrid noted. You thought of her warm hugs, and the funny voices she’d do when she’d read you bedtime stories. The way she always put a little note in your lunch. The silly dance she’d do to distract you when you’d need to get a shot. When you’d score a goal and look into the stand and see her there, smiling proudly. Or when you’d miss a goal, and her smile would still be there, still proudly watching you play.

You still looked to the stands for her sometimes, on instinct. You missed her proud smile and her warm hugs and her kindness more than anything. Ingrid was right; she really did look kind, in a way that only someone purely and completely good could.

You bit your lip, nodding rapidly. “She was. Really kind.”

“Nena, you look like her.” Mapi said quietly, looking back and forth between you and the photo.

People never said that. Never. They talked about how you and your father were practically twins, how you had the same nose and the same mouth as him. The same hair color, the same laugh, the same walk. You were just like him, everyone said. No one ever really compared you to your mom. You always thought it was because she was much too beautiful to be compared to.

“No, I look like my dad.” You disagreed, shaking your head and taking the picture from the Spaniard’s outstretched hand.

Ignoring Ingrid’s look telling her to drop it, Mapi also shook her head.

“No, you have her eyes. Look, when she smiles? They crinkle just like yours do when you smile.” Mapi pointed at the photo, and suddenly, you couldn’t tear your eyes off it. “And that dimple on her cheek? You have that too, but only when you smile really big.”

“Really?” You asked, refusing to look away from the photo. Mapi nodded, and Ingrid voiced her agreement, too.

“You look kind, just like her.”

You squinted, seeing the resemblance finally, but not seeing the kindness. “I don’t think I’m as kind as she’d like me to be.”

“Well, from everything you’ve ever told me about her, I think she’d be very proud of you.” Mapi said definitively. You shrugged, silently disagreeing with her. There was nothing to be proud of, you thought. You turned the page, hoping for something to distract from Mapi’s statement. The photo on the next page sent a rush of different emotions through you, and you could only stare at it for a moment before you let it slip from your grip as you stood.

“Pequeña?”

“I need some air.” You choked out, practically stumbling to the front door and wrenching it open. Ingrid and Mapi looked after you, startled at your abrupt exit.

Picking up the photo album you’d dropped, Ingrid’s face melted into one of understanding. She handed it over to the Spaniard, before getting to her feet herself and heading out the front door after you. Mapi took in the photo, not needing to think too hard about why it had upset you.

You couldn’t have been more than 3, asleep in your car seat in the back of the car. The photo was from the point of view of the driver, and also captured your father, asleep in almost an identical position in the passenger seat. His arm was stretched back, hand reaching to where yours extended. You were gripping onto two of his fingers with your small fist, slumped to the side a bit in order to reach him.

It didn’t look like a particularly comfortable position for either of you, yet you were both happily dozing. Mapi took a moment, willing herself not to rip the damn photo into pieces. The same hand you’d clung onto for comfort and safety as a child had inflicted the gash and the bruises that marked your face now. How does a parent go from loving and dedicated, as your father seemed in the photos, to the man he was now? Practically a stranger to you. The family that had known you was gone, leaving nothing in its absence.

Mapi headed out after the two of you, not sure what she should say. What she could say. She stepped onto the front porch, heart melting a bit at the way you sat, with your head resting on Ingrid’s shoulder. The Norwegian’s hand rubbed slowly up and down your back, though you inhaled shakily every few seconds, crying silently.

It appeared you didn’t have anything to say, either.

-------

It was unclear whether Mapi suggested ice cream because you still had time to kill before Alexia arrived home from her meeting, if she was trying to cheer you up, or if she just wanted ice cream. Regardless, you had agreed timidly, not wanting to seem too excited as you felt they’d already done enough for you today. Ingrid had pounced on the idea, though, dragging you halfway across the city to the best ice cream shop in Spain.

You appreciated her enthusiasm, even if you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go ho- back to Alexia’s, and take a nap. Alexia and Olga were both still out, though, and you were quite sure no one was going to leave you home alone anytime soon.

The whole day had broken records, you were sure, of Mapi being quieter than she’d ever been in her life. Her and Ingrid didn’t try to get you to talk, not really. They just kept you company, allowing you to stare out at the ocean from where the three of you sat eating your ice cream. Well, mostly.

“Nena?” Mapi asked. You hummed, looking up from your ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, it had been your mom’s favorite. Or was that peanut butter chocolate chip? You couldn’t remember. “Do you want to go visit your mom? Where she’s buried, I mean?”

You furrowed your brow, looking a bit defensive. “What would that do?”

“You could talk to her. Or… I don’t know. It might be nice to visit. I always feel my abuela around a bit more after I visit her.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your mouth shut, but the Spaniard easily clocked the skeptical look on your face. She nudged you with her shoe, keeping her expression curious and open. “What?”

“Mapi, my mom is dead. There is nothing to feel.”

“You don’t think she’s hanging around?”

“I don’t believe in God, Mapi. I don’t believe in heaven or hell, I don’t think she’s anywhere.”

You used to believe. You’d been raised religious, kept up with it casually. Until your mom had gotten sick, and you’d laid awake night after night for months, praying to God that she’d get better. That He wouldn’t take her from you. And then she was gone and you decided that even if he was up there, you hated him. God has a plan, everyone always told you that, especially after she’d died. You didn’t care about any plan, though. Not now, not then. You wanted your mom back, divine plans be damned.

She was gone, though. And it felt like she faded away from you with every passing day.

You couldn’t quite hear her voice anymore. Couldn’t smell her perfume, even if you thought really hard. You couldn’t remember what her paella tasted like, or the little song she used to sing when she’d braid your hair. You weren’t sure if the red sweater or the green sweater had been her favorite.

You felt the gap she’d left behind more than anything. You’d see something crazy happen, and think about how you wished you could tell her. Every song from her favorite artist that came out, every movie you knew she would have loved. Every goal you scored. Every game or trophy you won. You thought of her.

You used to feel her everywhere and now you were afraid that you felt her absence more than anything. The harder you tried to hold on to your memories of her, the easier they seemed to slip away. If she was still around, why did it feel like she was only getting farther and farther away from you?

Mapi interrupted your thought spiral. “You don’t have to believe in anything, or go visit anyone. We just want to help you, nena.”

“I know.” You nodded shakily. A thousand other replies swirled around in your brain, but none of them made their way out of your mouth. They were too complicated to sift through, some of them completely contradictory. Your phone buzzed, much to your relief, with a text from Alexia.

Hola, nena. How are you doing? We are almost done here, and then we can just relax the rest of the day. Maybe have a movie night? Whatever you feel like! It’s Olga’s night to cook, but everything else is your choice. See you soon. <3

Your stomach twisted with some emotion; you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. Maybe both. Hopeful, but terrified. You didn’t want to get used to being cared for. What would happen when it was taken away again?

------

The meeting had gone well, if Alexia’s relieved mood was any indication. You weren’t sure what that meant for you, though. And you were more than a little scared to ask. What if she seemed relieved because they had decided they were going to take you away somewhere? And she wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore?

You worried all through dinner, which had been delicious, though you hadn’t been able to stomach much. There were no signs that you were becoming less worked up, even as you sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped up in a very warm blanket. You’d chosen the movie, and Olga and Ale had bickered over who got to hold onto the remote.

The domesticity of the situation wasn’t helping the turmoil in your head, everything compounding to become rather overwhelming. If you were to stay, where did you fit here? Alexia sat with her arm around her girlfriend, their hands linked together under the blanket they shared, you were sure. They were in love, and had a life together. Surely, you staying would just drive a wedge between them? And that was only if Alexia even wanted you to stay.

Both her and Olga seemed to pick up on your increased anxiety, though, finally stepping in after you’d gnawed on all of your nails, and had just pulled so hard at one of your cuticles, it began to bleed. Alexia had paused the movie you’d chosen, disappearing to find a bandage, while her girlfriend turned to face you.

“Hey, pequeña? Are you feeling anxious?” Olga asked gently, fighting back a sad frown at how stricken you looked to be asked so outwardly about your feelings. Your captain returned just in time to hear your shaky response.

“A little.” You admitted.

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” Alexia wondered, insisting on wrapping the adhesive bandage onto your finger herself, though you were more than capable.

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. “The meeting today… Am I staying here? Or being sent somewhere else?” Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, which wasn’t an obvious good sign or bad sign.

For Alexia, there was never any question. You were staying with her, she’d move heaven and earth to make it happen if she had to. The blonde hadn’t thought to tell you that you were staying with her, because it had never been up for debate. Clearly, though, you were still quite unsure that your captain wanted you around.

You took her silence in a different way, though, now convinced you would be leaving, and began scrambling to assure her that it was okay. You understood. “I get it, Ale, you don’t need me around here, I don’t blame you at all…”

Alexia found her voice finally, looking frantically at her girlfriend. “No! No, nena, you are staying here. You are staying here with us, for as long as you want to. I wouldn’t have you go anywhere else.”

Your captain studied you, feeling a wave of sadness at the expression of shock on your face.

“You want me to stay here?” You asked quietly, almost disbelieving. “Both of you?”

“Yes.” Alexia promised. You fixed your attention on Olga, doubtfully gazing at her. Ale was your captain; but Olga owed you nothing. She just smiled gently at you, though, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“I want you here too, nena. I promise.”

A beat passed, before you swallowed thickly and nodded. “Thank you.” You were barely able to keep your voice from breaking, but Alexia pulled you into her all the same.

“Don’t thank us. Just believe us.”

Nodding again, you laid your head on her shoulder, trying to ignore the tears falling from your eyes. What a strange feeling it was, to be loved. You’d forgotten.

------

“I don’t want to do this.” You said quietly, not moving to undo your seatbelt even as Alexia turned the car off. “Please don’t make me.”

Your captain didn’t want to make you do anything. She would have been content to let you stay curled up on her couch, where you obviously felt relatively safe. That’s all she wanted; for you to feel safe. There was no way to avoid what came with the legal process, though, and this was a required step.

A familiar pained expression washed over Alexia’s face. “I know. I’m sorry. We have to do this.”

The we Alexia used made you feel a bit weird. It felt mostly like a good thing; like you weren’t alone. At the same time, it was also kind of scary. There was a lack of control that came along with relying on another person, and this was not something you were used to. You only grew paler as you and Alexia exited the car. She kept a guiding hand on your shoulder, and you weren’t convinced she didn't think you were about to bolt.

“What if… what if I just talk to you, instead?” You asked, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the parking lot. With more patience than you thought you deserved Alexia turned back towards you, a sympathetic expression on her face. “No therapist, just you.”

Your captain grabbed your hand, but didn’t tug you any closer to the building. “You can always talk to me pequeña. Always. I know you really don't want to do this, but your social worker is requiring it, as is your lawyer. It sucks, I know it sucks. You just have to do your best and tell her as much as you can. And if it’s awful, we’ll find someone else.”

“If I don’t like her, I don’t have to come back?”

“No. I promise.”

“And you’ll stay in the waiting room?” You hated being so openly vulnerable, but the care that your captain was showing you was making it increasingly difficult to remain stoic.

“Of course. You aren’t doing this alone, nena. Any of it.”

As you got in the elevator, and Ale pushed the button for the therapist office’s floor, you were struck with the thought that she’d so easily calmed your fears and anxieties. Your captain had always been a comforting individual, but when you showed up on her doorstep a few days ago, you never could have expected how easily she’d taken you in. It was like second nature to her, making sure you were okay.

She made taking care of you seem… easy. You’d thought it to be a hard task for a long time. It was a bit astounding, how quickly Ale had you questioning things you’d been believing for years.

Alexia had picked the therapist, you remembered. She’d done the research and found this woman, and for some reason, that made it easier for you to walk into the office and shake the therapist, Elia’s, hand.

It was even easier when Alexia patted you on the cheek and sent you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right out here if you need me, okay?”

With a nod, you followed the therapist into the room, feeling significantly less anxiety than you’d been feeling a few minutes ago. Odd.

-------

“Ms. Putellas?” Elia peeked her head out of the room, too professional to seem flustered, yet still clearly concerned with something.

The blonde looked up from her phone, knowing very well that it had not been even close to the full hour you were supposed to be in there for. “Yes?”

“Can you join us for a bit? We’re feeling a bit upset, and I think she needs…” Elia trailed off as Alexia lurched to her feet and practically ran into the room. You were crying into your hands, and your captain briefly thought that you’d been reduced to tears an unfair amount of times in the past few days.

“Hey, hey, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, taking a seat on the couch next to you and carefully pulling you into her arms. “It’s okay, I've got you.”

You had been trying to force your tears to stop, still not fully comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of Alexia, and this mostly strange woman sitting across from you. Your captain had such a calming aura about her, and you felt inexplicably better as soon as she took a seat next to you. Alexia was safe.

“I-I…” It was a struggle to get any words out and you weren’t really sure what you were trying to say.

“Just give yourself a minute, focus on breathing.” Alexia coached, exaggerating her own breathing as you tried to match her.

Your therapist watched with a completely impassive face as you clung to the blonde. Her job was to determine your mental wellbeing, as well as figure out if the placement you were in at the moment was the right one. She was quite sure she had her answers, only 20 minutes into the session. You were most definitely not okay. But you were probably in the right place.

It was obvious to her that Alexia was someone you trusted. Someone you felt safe with. You’d tried to just get everything out in the open, thinking if you rushed through the whole story it wouldn’t hurt as much. You had been wrong; you were barely halfway through what you needed to say before you were bursting into tears and quietly asking for Alexia. It wasn’t very common for someone who had endured what you had to so easily trust someone, even outside of the initial situation. But she could see why you trusted Alexia.

The blonde held you protectively, shushing you gently as you cried. All her attention was on you as she tried to calm you down. Not on Elia, not on the way the therapist was taking copious notes. Alexia wasn’t putting on any kind of performance to get to keep you. Her concern was genuinely only with your wellbeing in that moment.

After a few minutes, Alexia leaned you back and handed you your water bottle, encouraging you to take a few sips. Once you’d done that, you used your shirt to wipe your eyes, and turned towards the therapist; though you didn’t meet her gaze.

“Sorry. I thought I could get through that, I didn't mean to freak out.”

“Don’t apologize.” Alexia and Elia said at the same time. You looked between them, caught between amusement and annoyance that they were suddenly ganging up on you.

“You said something to me that I’d like to go back to, if that’s alright.” Elia said. You nodded your agreement, your hand gripping onto Alexia’s as if you were afraid the therapist was going to make her leave. She didn’t do any such thing, and Alexia gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“You said the way your father acts is your fault.” Next to you, your captain inhaled sharply. “Can you explain to me why you think that?”

You shrugged, suddenly looking very closed off. Elia wasn’t sure if the question had been too much, or if you were too embarrassed to admit the truth in front of Alexia. The rest of the session passed quickly, with you giving very short answers, clearly ready to be done for the day.

She let you go early, though with homework; to try to figure out why you are so reluctant to blame your father for his behavior, and so willing to blame yourself. There was no answer, you thought to yourself. That was just how things were.

-------

It was after your first training session with the team that you brought up your idea. It had been a good day; though everyone seemed to go out of their way to give you a hug or make you laugh, you didn’t mind it. It was as good of a day as you’d had in a while, and you weren’t quite sure why you were so set on ruining it. Your captain could very obviously tell that there was something on your mind; that something had been for a few days.

You were both eating a snack in the kitchen when you finally let her in, and asked what you’d been thinking about asking for a while now.

“Ale?”

“Hmm?” The blonde looked up at you from the banana she was peeling, giving you a very soft and very encouraging smile. It wasn’t like you to start a conversation that seemed serious; normally, she was the one prompting you.

“I… I want to visit my dad. In jail.” You rushed through the sentence, as if Alexia wouldn’t understand but still agree if you spoke fast enough. No luck, though, as Alexia looked at you in surprise. This was clearly not what she had been expecting.

“No, nena, I think that is a really bad idea.” She said firmly.

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” You said without thinking. After a beat, your face flushed red and you tensed with what could only be described as fear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,”

Slightly puzzled by your panic, she put her snack down and walked around the counter to stand next to you. Cautiously, she put a hand on your back, feeling you relax at her touch.

Now that she thought about it, Alexia had never once seen you advocate for yourself. Never. And from the way you were shrinking under her gaze, you clearly thought you weren’t allowed to disagree with her, or ask for what you needed. She wondered how long it had been since you’d felt safe enough to just… exist. Live. Do things without worrying and worrying about the consequences of the tone of your voice or the things you said. Alexia knew she had to tread carefully; because while she was sure going to visit your dad would not end well for you… she didn’t want to control you.

“You don’t need my permission.” Alexia said gently. “I am not your keeper; you are old enough to make your own decisions, especially about things like this. I just really don’t think it is a good idea. I won’t stop you, nena, but I do not think you should do it.”

You contemplated, looking like you were trying to decide if this was some kind of trick or not. Would she really not be mad if you went against what she wanted? You didn’t want to risk what little peace you’d found in the past week. Nothing was worth that. You were just about to agree with her, drop the idea entirely, when she asked a follow up question, clearly trying to understand your motives.

“Can I ask why you want to see him?”

You worried your lip between your teeth, not entirely sure you knew why yourself. You just… had to see him. If there was a chance for you to get your father back, you’d take it. “If he says sorry…”

“You’ll forgive him?” Alexia tried and failed to keep the disgust out of her voice and you frowned, withdrawing further into yourself. All your captain got was a shrug in response. He’d never said it before, and there was no reason for you to think he would now, but still. You clung to that hope; it was all you had left of your family. And you were so sure that your mother wouldn’t want you to give up on him so easily.

“He’s my dad, Ale.” You mumbled, shrugging out from under her hand and wrapping your arms around yourself. Alexia noticed you do that when you were anxious, or upset; like you were trying to self soothe. She hated it. You didn’t need to do that yourself anymore, she was here, ready and willing to give you all the hugs you could ever need. You looked downright afraid of her in that moment, though, and the blonde had to school her features and take a deep breath before she said anything.

Alexia knew that if she said she didn’t want you to again, you wouldn’t go. Your captain had spent the last week analyzing all of your behavior, talking to your therapist, talking to your teammates, talking to her mother and her girlfriend. Anyone that could give her some insight into how to best help you. She felt like she understood you, on some level, now. Much more than she had before, when you’d just been her little quiet teammate, who did her best to stay in the shadows. There was a complexity to you that she’d missed entirely, but now that she saw it, she realized how desperately you craved her approval. You’d always been closer to her than anyone else, but now you were practically attached at the hip to her. Not that she minded; whatever made you feel safe.

So Alexia knew that your paramount worry was what she thought. And no matter how many times she tried to convince you that you were allowed to make this decision for yourself, she knew you wouldn’t go against what she wanted. She didn’t need to ask if you were sure, either; you wouldn't have brought it up to her if you weren’t.

With a sigh, she relented. “If that's what you want to do, then that’s what we’ll do. I can take you later today?”

Your whole body deflated with relief, and you were diving forward to hug her tightly before you could stop yourself. “Thank you.” You mumbled the words into her shoulder, beyond grateful for her understanding.

She hugged you back, tightly, the now familiar scent of her perfume overwhelming your senses. It didn’t matter how many times she offered you a hug or a kiss on the forehead or a hand to hold; you were pretty sure you’d always be surprised. It was apparent to her that you were understandably touch starved, but you still seemed a little confused why you sunk into her hugs, and were beginning to do the same with Olga’s.

“Of course, pequeña.” Alexia replied, hoping with all of her being that this wouldn’t prove to be a mistake. She had a sinking feeling it would be.

------

His face appeared every time you closed your eyes. More than his empty words, and the careless look in his eyes as he looked at you through the glass. He hadn’t cared that you visited, hadn’t apologized. He’d blamed you for provoking him, somehow. And for what happened after.

And still, his appearance was burned into your mind. You had a bruise across your forehead, and he had a matching one. You’d gotten the stitches out of your cheek the day before, and now he had some in his cheek.

You’d look even more alike, now, with matching scars on your face.

It was like as you healed, and moved on, you transferred your pain to him. Like there was no growth without forgetting. You were leaving him behind buried in grief. The people that loved you were desperately trying to pull you out, and suddenly, you felt like digging your heels in and going limp. Because he was your dad and if he was hurting, shouldn’t you be hurting too? Just as much? Why were you allowed to be happy when he wasn’t able to?

Memories ran through your mind, on repeat. His smile when you scored a goal on him for the first time. His grimace as he saw you walk through the door of your house. His hand on yours, teaching you how to hold a baseball. His hands on you, pushing and pushing; like you were a physical manifestation of his pain, and he wanted it away from him at all costs. A whispered I love you as he and your mom put you to bed after a late night. Not a word uttered while you sobbed, her casket being lowered into the ground.

Was he still in there somewhere? Buried under all the hurt and the pain and the grief, did he still love you? He had to. If he didn’t, you had only yourself to blame. For leaving the house that night and going to Alexia’s. For talking to the police. For pressing charges.

The very small logical part of you knew this wasn’t true, but the overwhelming majority of your brain couldn’t comprehend that you weren’t to blame, that he was. How could you hate someone and love someone at the same time? You were sure you did. You loved him and you hated him. You wanted to never see him again, and you wanted to go back home with him, even if nothing was different.

After everything, you still loved him. How could he not love you? How could he not care, like he’d said was the case inside that jail, with a swollen face and a broken look in his eyes.

You moved like a zombie as you exited the building, and Alexia was quick to jump out of the car and run to you. You were practically in a catatonic state as she reached you, face completely blank. She placed both her hands on your cheeks, worry only growing when you didn’t react other than to flicker your eyes up at her, and then look away.

“Nena?”

No response.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Still, nothing.

Alexia was at a complete loss; you continued to stare blankly just over her shoulder. It felt like you were underwater, your captain’s words mostly unintelligible. A thousand thoughts ran through your head, but really only one broke through. Alexia was talking to you, Alexia was here. You lurched towards the safety that she brought, practically falling into her arms.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Alexia said, wrapping her arms around you just in time before you fell crumpled to the ground. “You’re alright, you’re safe. He’s locked up in there, and you’re out here with me.”

As your captain led you to the car, you wondered if a part of you wasn’t locked up there with him. If you’d ever be able to pry that piece away, and give it back to yourself.

------

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Alexia burst out, attempting to rise to her feet. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back down onto the sofa.

“No, Ale.” Olga sighed.

With a dramatic sigh, Alexia flopped onto her side, having been fighting this battle for at least two hours. As soon as you’d both returned home from your visit, still without having said a single word, you disappeared up to the guest room. The blonde had wanted to go after you immediately, but Olga had stopped her, encouraging her to give you time to process whatever had happened on your own. Alexa hadn’t wanted to do that then, and now it had been two hours, and she still hadn’t seen you.

“But-”

“No. Give her time.”

“I’ve given her time, amor. Two whole hours!”

“She must be exhausted, Alexia. Imagine how mentally tiring this all has to be for her. You have to let her work some of this out herself. She can’t decide how she feels if you’re hovering over her asking her the same questions she is asking herself.” As always, everything the brunette was saying made sense, though it still didn’t seem to make the midfielder feel any better.

“What if she needs a hug?” Alexia mumbled, pulling at a loose thread on the couch, glaring at her girlfriend when she slapped the blonde’s hand away from it.

“Maybe you need a hug.” Olga replied, shifting her laptop off her legs, and opening her arms for Alexia. The blonde was only able to hold out for a few seconds, her frown quickly melting away as she sank into the smaller girl’s embrace. One long hug later, Alexia evidently felt better, sliding off her girlfriend’s lap so she could resume her work. The captain reached for her phone, smiling triumphantly to herself when she read the text she’d received.

“Mapi says I should go in there!”

Olga didn’t look up from her computer. “And Ingrid? What does Ingrid say?”

Alexia’s face fell, and she read back through the thread. “To give her time.” She sighed, throwing her phone back onto the couch and ignoring the smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Another entire hour passed before you emerged from your room, shuffling down the stairs, wrapped in one of your mother’s hoodies. Alexia froze, like you were a wild animal she was going to scare off, while Olga remained completely normal, smiling at you and patting the couch in between the two of them.

“Hola, nena. Are you hungry?”

You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest and attempting to make yourself as small as possible. Alexia continued to stare at her, and if you’d been feeling more yourself, you absolutely would have made fun of her for it. You could barely look at her, feeling horrible that you hadn’t listened to her advice in the first place. At the same time, you knew that there was no part of you that would have been able to move on without the clarity you received today. If you could even call it clarity, if you could even consider moving on.

Sensing that the two of you needed to talk, Olga rose to her feet, shutting her laptop, and affectionately ruffling your hair. “I’ll go get us some pizza for dinner, yes?”

You both agreed, although you did so somewhat begrudgingly. There was a conversation incoming, you knew, and it seemed as though it would include some variation of I told you so.

You wanted to avoid that, and for some reason, decided the best way to accomplish this goal was to just… start talking. As soon as the door was shut behind Olga, you were talking, feeling Alexia watching you carefully.

“He didn’t say sorry. He wasn’t even really that mad, he was just so… indifferent to me. He told me it was my fault, and I knew he’d say that. I don’t-. I think I would be mad at him if… if they hadn’t…”

“If they hadn’t what, nena?” Alexia wondered. Your face had a glazed over look to it, like you weren’t full there with her, but you responded nonetheless.

“They found out he was in for ‘hitting his kid’, he said. And they beat him for it. His face was all messed up, one of his eyes was barely open. He looked so defeated, Ale, and it’s all my fault.”

Alexia was immediately shaking her head. “No. He made his own decisions, and he is facing the consequences of them now. None of that is your fault. That’s what happens to men in prison that hit their kids.”

There was a note of… satisfaction in Alexia’s voice. Like justice had been done.

“He didn’t hit me.” You disagreed weakly.

“No, he broke down your bedroom door and threw a bottle of vodka at your face. He hurt you. That isn’t okay.”

“I know it’s not okay, I know that. But he’s grieving, Ale. He’s hurting too. He misses my mom just like I do, it’s not his fault.” It was as if you were pleading with Alexia to agree with you. To let him off the hook, or maybe… maybe you were pleading with her to stand her ground. And convince you of what you knew was right.

Alexia remained firm, not raising her voice even as you did so. “That is no excuse to hurt you. You have been grieving, too, and-”

“I pushed him once,” you cried, tears suddenly flooding down your face. “I pushed him and he pushed me back but I started it. It’s all my fault, all of this is all my fault.” You dropped your forehead onto your knees, sniffling and gasping for air as you tried to get a hold on yourself. You felt the presence of Alexia next to you, carefully rubbing her hand up and down your back.

“He is an adult, and you are a kid. You didn’t deserve any of this, pequeña. You don’t deserve to be his punching bag just because he is hurting. You are hurting, too, and he should be taking care of you.”

Her voice was soft in your ear, and you wanted to believe her. So badly. “He’s my dad,” you whimpered, lifting your head just enough for the blonde to see your tearstained face, the fresh scar on your cheek. Every day she had to look at it, she knew she’d never forgive him for what he’d done.

“I know.”

“I just want…I want everything to go back to how it was, before she got sick and before he stopped loving me. I want to have a parent again. It’s not fair. ”

“No, cariño, it isn’t fair, not at all.”

It didn’t quite seem like you were hearing Alexia, but she certainly heard the next words out of your mouth.

“I’m all alone,” you choked out. More than anything in the world, you didn’t want to be alone. Even if all you had was your father… at least you had him. At least you had someone. It was ridiculous and completely nonsensical, but you think you would have forgiven him for anything, found a way to blame yourself, if it meant you got to keep the shattered pieces of the family you once had. The pieces cut your hands to shreds, but you held onto them nonetheless, thinking you had no other option. That it was that, or nothing at all.

Hands guided your face up further, and you were surprised to see a fierce look on Alexia’s face. “You are not alone. You will never be alone. Mapi, Ingrid, Irene, Frido, everyone would be there in a heartbeat for you, if you needed them. No one on this team would ever let you be alone.”

Alexia spoke carefully, trying to gauge whether the words were sinking in or not.

“And pequeña, I would never, ever let you be alone. I’ve got you, now. You are important to me, I care about you, and you are not alone. I know you feel like you are, but you aren’t, you absolutely aren’t. I am here now, nena, and I always will be. For as long as you need me, I'll be right here.” She gripped your hand in hers, her rather impassioned speech echoing in your ears.

Maybe, you thought, you could put yourself back together. With your teammates help, with Alexia’s help, it could be accomplished.

You didn't think he could. With your help or without it, he was who he was. And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t change that. If he wanted to stay in the grief, live in the past, there was nothing you could do to drag him to peace against his will. Maybe he didn’t deserve peace, or happiness.

You weren’t sure that you did, either, but that was another fight, for another day. As Alexia hugged you tightly, as Olga entered through the front door and joined you both on the couch, you didn’t feel lonely for the first time in what felt like forever. Whatever was to come, you weren’t alone in it. You didn’t believe that entirely, yet, but you got the sense that you would, one day. You got the sense that there was someone out there that wouldn’t rest peacefully until you were happy, and safe, and loved.

As suddenly as she had gone, you felt like she was back. Standing next to you in court as you testified against your father. Watching from the stands as you played some of the best football of your life.

Her hand on your shoulder as you moved out of Alexia’s spare room, a year later. A different person than the one that had shown up on her porch, bloody and entirely broken. You felt her right all over, all the time. But especially as you hung her picture up on the wall in your new apartment. The family photos wall, you’d decided.

Your mom wasn’t alone up there. She was surrounded by photos of you and your teammates. Of you laughing and holding trophies and looking like the energetic, happy child she’d known. Alexia helped you hang all the pictures up, and you had an overwhelming sense that your mother, wherever she was, approved of your new family. Maybe, she’d even sent them to you, knowing her girl needed all the love in the world. If there was anything you were sure about, it was that you were loved.

And what a feeling that was.

-------

don't really have to much to say here. let me know what you think! thanks for reading 🫶🏻🥰

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x platonic reader #platonic reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x platonic reader #ingrid engen x platonic reader

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ireneispunk · 3 months

Text

Just a Taste

Moder AU Aemond Targaryen x female coworker reader smut (requested)

request: 'Hi Irene! Can I request a lovely smutty modern aemond x reader where they're friends but not quite. Reader thinks aemond is annoying and aemond thinks reader is cute so he teases her a lot. They're at a work party and Aemond gets annoyed when others tease and flirt with her so he drags reader off to another room and marks her as his. Thank you thank you!'

w.c: 3278

c.w: SMUT 18+, frustration to lovers (??), oral f receiving, unprotected p in v sex, aemond and reader work together in modern au, me not knowing how grown up office jobs work :)

a.n: thank you so much for the request! sorry it too me so long but i hope you love it!

i'm starting an aemond and jacaerys perma taglist cus of my inconsistent positng teehee, let me know if / which you wish to be on!

You groaned taking a look at the time on your monitor, it was somehow only halfway through the day. You typed away endlessly, watching as the minute ticked to 1pm. You exhaled, before making your way to the break room, greeting the few other members of staff in there. You heard the shuffling as some people made their way in or out, clicking on the kettle for your tea. You felt a presence behind you, and you already knew who it was before looking. “What do you want Aemond? Just to admire the view?” You spoke, throwing a teabag in your mug. He scoffed lightly, stepping to the side of you and leaning his palm against the counter.

“I came to offer my condolences,” you turned your head to face him and raised your eyebrows. His light hair tied back in its signature bun, shirt sleeves half rolled up. “I heard Robberts accepted my proposal over yours.” He spoke so smugly, begging for a reaction out of you. You turned to the fridge, pulling out the milk and rolling your eyes once he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, I did hear about that unfortunate slip in his judgement.” Your fingers tapped upon the countertop, waiting for the hot water. “Though I do recall it was my last four? Was it? That beat out yours.” A small chuckle left his lips as his arms folded across his front.

“I do love when you bare your teeth and indulge me.” He said lowly only addressing you.

You puffed out a sigh, turning to put the milk away. “If you spent half as much time on your research as you did being insufferable maybe you’d have a better shot.”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed his hand over his heart.

“Mmm, that’s the idea.” You spoke almost absent mindedly, opening the cupbpard above you to find the sugar jar empty. You let out a frustrated groan, tilted your head back and closing your eyes.

“Are these something you’d want?” You turned to face Aemond, his large hands holding out small sugar packets. Your eyes went wide, noticing it was the good brand too.

“Where did you get those!” You exclaimed, a smile reaching your lips.

“Linda’s desk.” He replied, smirk across his face. Yours dropped slightly. Linda.

“Linda from accounting?” You groaned remembering the time you used the unassigned parking spot she claimed was hers. “I think she might actually spill blood if she notices them gone.” He laughed and as you reached for the packets he pulled his hand back, you furrowed your brows and looked up at him before trying to grab them from him again. He lifted them up above his head, the movement untucked the front of his shirt slightly. You couldn’t even fight the immediate urge to look at the exposed skin, his toned stomach and light happy trail brought a warmth to your face. You tore your eyes away returning them to Aemond’s, he eyed you with a small smirk playing at his lips.

“Give me the sugar Aemond.” You tried to speak in a stern manner but found it hard to considering the heat across your cheeks. He tilted his head to the side slightly, looking expectantly. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaving your palm open. “Please?” You questioned. He smiled widely place the packets in your palm, his fingers grazing over yours ever so slightly. He made his way out of the breakroom as you tried to simmer your racing heart. You watched as he paused for a moment, turning back around to you and resting his palm upon the door frame.

“See you Saturday.” He said with a smirk. You shot him a puzzled look, before realisation washed over you.

You grimaced lightly, “Wouldn’t miss it.” You said flatly. He poked his tongue into his cheek in amusement before disappearing off behind the wall.

You cursed under your breath as you made it back to your desk. A hand slamming down on your desk made you jump and look up. Your office friend stood above you looking expectantly. “A little birdy told me you haven’t made some boring excuse to miss the party tomorrow!” Her excitement reverberated through your cubicle. You shot her a ‘keep it down’ glare as she threw her hands up and squatted next to where you sat.

“I forgot to orchestrate a family emergency, but there’s still time break a bone.” You took a sip of your drink. She huffed, pushing your arm lightly.

“The financial year ends on the same day every year… I think you just wanted the excuse to see Aemond again.” She giggled watching your eyes go wide.

“Absolutely not! He is the bane of my existence, I’m pretty sure he is punishment for whatever I did in a past life.” You couldn’t lie to yourself though, ever since Aemond joined your firm it had made things more entertaining at some points, if not a whole lot more frustrating too.

She raised her brows, peering over the top of your desk slightly to ensure the coast was clear. “The punishment could be a little less delicious don’t you think?” You scoffed, trying to become absorbed in your work. She rose to her feet and was a few feet away from your desk before turning back to exclaim, “Ooh! Wear something sexy!”, Your jaw hung open, but no words fell out. Your colleague beside you raised a brow at you as you face flushed.

It felt as if hours had passed as you sat upon your bedroom floor upon a mess of clothes. You watched as the clock ticked, you were technically already running late to the “it’s not mandatory but we’d love each and every one of you to show up and celebrate with us!” party. Your head looked between two dresses laid out in front of you, one black and the other in your favourite colour. The black was the obligatory ‘there but unused funeral dress’ you had, the other verged on being the perfect dress. You put it on one last time and looked in the mirror, it was tighter than what you were used to, short but not so short you had to worry, and the colour complimented your complexion perfectly. You felt beautiful in this dress and glanced back at the black one once more deciding whether to play it safe. You phone chimed upon your bed, and you opened the message from your friend.

It was a mirror selfie in the bathroom with a drink in hand. ‘Don’t pussy out.’ The message read. You rolled your eyes before another message chimed through, ‘ps. bar has free drinks’. You laughed lightly before sliding your heels on and grabbing your jacket. You replied back with a short ‘on the way’ before climbing into your taxi.

You arrived at your office building, the height seeming daunting all of a sudden. You passed a few faces you knew, smoking besides the entrance, and exchanged a few hellos. Your shoes clicked across the marble floors as you made your way to the lift. A nervousness bubbled within you as it went past the floor you worked on up to one of the top floors that served as a function room. The doors opened and to your relief, revealed a bustling party. You stepped out paused at the top of the small set of stairs that led down to the main floor and eyed the room. You vaguely remembered the layout from your first week and tour of the building, but you had never seen it in action, and you couldn’t deny it looked good. The one empty bar was replaced with two mixologists pouring various liquids, the lights were dimmed, with lamps and string lights casting a warm glow upon the room. The music was loud enough to engulf the room but did not deafen you. You fiddled with your sleeve for a moment, scanning the room for your friend, before pulling your jacket from your shoulders and leaving it with the others. Your fingers grazed against the cool metal banister as you stepped down the stairs. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling it click with every step of your heel. Maybe it was your late arrival, your dressed up look, the lull in music as it changed tracks, or a combination of the three but you caught the attention of a few pairs of eyes on the floor beneath you. Your eyes looked towards the floor before a loud voice calling out to you made you jump. You looked up to see your friend with a wide grin across her face waving out to you, her exclamation had attracted the attention of a few of your coworkers as they glanced between the two of you. You quickly stepped down the rest of the stairs to meet her and shushed her, linking your arms. You both made your way over to the seating at the bar as she rambled incessantly about all the unmissable things you had missed.

You pushed yourself up onto the barstool and smiled at the bartender as your drink of choice was slid towards you. You watched as your friend laughed through her stories before quickly exclaiming she needed to use the restroom again. You smiled to yourself, you were glad she was here or else you’d find it harder to be comfortable. Just as quickly as she left, another presence joined you. You looked up, seeing Aemond leaning with his back against the bar. His eyes shamelessly scanned your body, appreciating the parts he had never seen before, and admiring how your dress fit you. His eyes met yours, his signature smirk plastered across his lips. “Can I buy you a drink?” he questioned.

“It’s an open bar?” You retorted; brows furrowed.

“Then I can buy you two.” You laughed at his ridiculousness but nodded your head. Aemond smiled to himself, he earnt a genuine laugh from you, and it was the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. You took a moment to take in his appearance, a dark shirt covering his chest with the top button undone, his long silver hair cascading over his shoulders instead of thrown into a bun. A faint blush painted your cheeks as he caught your eyes on him, yet he did not taunt you as he usually would. The conversation flowed between you, about work, shows, both of your overly competitive sides showing at times. Your head threw back in laughter at one of his remarks, your hand gripping his forearm as you laughed. As soon as you noticed you removed it and placed it back around your drink. Aemond watched you intently. You never wanted to give anything away, never reveal that you wanted him too, yet your body betrayed you.

Your time was interrupted as one of your colleagues joined you on your other side. He addressed you directly, then nodded his head towards Aemond who merely rose a brow. “Hi Alex.” Your response was blunt, this was the first time he’d spoken to you in months. Unlike Aemond, you felt disgusting under his gaze, his eyes never met yours, opting to settle on your breasts even as you spoke.

“Is there something you need?” Aemond spoke, a hint of annoyance in his voice. You looked towards him, fingers digging into the edge of the bar.

“Oh, yeah. Big boss wants you. Something about the appraisal on your report.” Alex grinned, he seemed happy to watch Aemond curse under his breath and walk across the room towards your boss. You smiled flatly taking a large sip of your drink. He continued to talk at you, not realising your disinterest from your ‘oh really’, ‘wow’, and ‘cool’ roster of responses. It felt as if hours passed but in reality, it had only been a few minutes. Never so badly had you wanted Aemond glued to your hip.

Aemond stood talking to his boss, trying to hurry the conversation along so he could return to your side. Every time he looked back to the bar, anger bubbled from within him. “So by next Monday?” Snapped him from burning holes into your back.

“Yes, Monday.” He answered immediately catching a few people off guard. His boss thanked him and Aemond shook a few hands before making his way back to you. His fists clenched beside him as he weaved through the huddles of people. He knew you didn’t care for Alex. He listened to your laugh; he knew it was your fake laugh because he had made you laugh properly all evening.

You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling of a hand upon your shoulder. You looked up to see Aemond with a look on his face you had never seen before, pure anger. His fingers burned into your flesh. “I need to borrow you for a moment.” He didn’t allow you to respond before he had pulled you by your hand from the bar stool and back towards the stairs. You struggled to keep up with his long strides in your heels as you called his name. He pushed open a door to a room you had never been in before to reveal a dark desolate meeting room. He swiftly shut the door and clicked the lock on it, turning to face you.

“Aemond what-“ He cut you off with a kiss, his hands reaching the sides of your face. As you registered what was happening your pressed both hands against his chest and pushed him away. You watched his face, your chest rising and falling at a quick pace. You felt hunger take over your body and stepped back towards him. “Kiss me again.” You whispered. Moments as the words left your lips his hand returned to your cheek and his lips brushed yours before kissing you deeply. His lips fit against yours in a perfectly satisfying way. His body pressed against yours, pushing you until the backs of your thighs hit the cool table. He pulled his lips from yours as they found your neck, tongue running across the softness beneath your ear. You let out a gasp as his teeth grazed across your throat, biting slightly and kissing every mark he left.

“Sit for me.” He spoke between kisses. Aemond’s tone spread a heat in your lower stomach. The sound of champagne popping snapped you out of your haze, eyes shooting towards the door.

“But what if someone knows.” You whispered. You bit your lip, as Aemond’s fingers brushed the hem of your dress and against your thighs.

His lips left your neck as he looked you in the eye. With nothing but the moonlight glowing up the room, he looked angelic, with a devilish smirk upon his lips. “The music is loud enough. Sit.”

You nodded, sitting upon the table, the cool lacquered wood hitting your thighs. He placed one more kiss upon your lips before sinking to his knees in front of you. He pushed your knees apart, settling between your thighs. Chills ran over your body as he peppered kissed from your knee to your upper thigh. You watched him, nervous look on your face. His hand reached your lower stomach and pushed against it slightly, “Lay down, you’ll enjoy it more.” He mumbled against your thigh. You swallowed, laying back against the table and trying to ignore the thudding in your chest. His fingers hiked the edge of your dress around your hips, a small groan escaping his lips at the sight of your clothed pussy. He placed kisses at your inner thighs before placing an open-mouthed kiss over your clit. You felt a jolt travel through your body as he slid your panties to the side. He hummed, his middle fingers grazed upon your pussy before delving inside, slowly bottoming out within you over and over. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt Aemond’s tongue latch upon your clit, circling it softly. You propped yourself up on your elbow, you free hand making its way into Aemond’s silver hair. Your fingers gripped the strands, pulling him closer to you. His tongue responded by picking up the pace as he angled his fingers upwards, grazing that sweet spot inside of you. Your stomach tightened as Aemond raced you towards your peak. You looked down between your legs to meet his gaze already watching you, causing your orgasm to wash over you. It took all of your strength to not clamp your thighs shut, letting him coax a final few moans from your lips.

You watched as he rose to his feet, towering over your body splayed out upon the table. You sat up, hand snaking around his neck to pull him back into a kiss, much hungrier than before. Your hands ran down his chest, the softness of his shirt hiding the strength of his chest. Your fingertips untucked the shirt from his trousers before you felt Aemond’s hand across your cheek, his thumb resting upon your chin. Pulling back from the kiss, you watched as he undid the buckle on his belt, pulling it from his waist in a way that made your cheeks flare. It clanked to the ground, as he pulled his trousers down enough to expose his cock, your jaw going slack at the sight of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips found yours as he lined himself up with your pussy. You jolted slightly as he inserted himself, a loud moan leaving your lips as he filled you up. His thrusts started slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size before you brought your legs up and wrapped them around his waist. His forehead rested against yours, as he hissed slightly at the new angle. Aemond’s pace quickened as your relaxed into his arms, moans leaving your lips that delicately grazed against his.

Your nails dug into the top of his back, eyes screwing shut as a flurry of praises escaped your lips. Aemond groaned, pulling you impossibly close, your breasts pressing against his chest and his head finding the crook of your neck to torment again. You dropped your head to the other side, allowing him to explore your neck as he fucked you. As another orgasm approached you, your fingers found his hair once again, pulling lightly as pleasure took over your body. Your legs crossed behind him as his thrusts repeatedly edged you closer. A final scream of his name and your pussy tightening in pleasure caused him to curse and bury his hips deep into you, filling you with his seed. His breathing was raggedy as his head rested upon your shoulder, lazily kissing it.

You adjusted your dress, eyeing your dishevelled reflection in the reflection of the window. A familiar pair of hands met your waist, sliding around to your front. You sighed as his chin rested upon your shoulder, turning your head to face him. You admired the way the moon illuminated his light hair, the faded scar that ran down his cheek framing his beauty. “I can’t think of anything worse than going back out to that party.” You hummed, placing your hands over his.

Aemond laughed lightly, turning you to face him and weaving his fingers between yours. “What if we didn’t?” He questioned, his usual smirk finding its way back to his face. You hummed inquisitively. “There’s no party at my place.” He shrugged lightly. You thought for a moment, before grinning and pulling him by his arm, a genuine smile of adoration planted firmly upon his face as you did.

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cakelitter · 1 month

Text

Mine

Leon x Puppy - Hybrid Fem! Reader

Warnings: age gap, puppy reader, spitting, thigh riding, daddy kink, oral (f recieve) , p in v, praise kink

Summary: Puppy reader gets jealous over Leon

Words: 3.7k

a/n: reader is such a hater in this one, but it fitting. If you see some typos, no you don't. anww enjoy!!

Life has never been better. You have all you could ever need and more.

A hoard of squeaky toys. Check

Piles and piles of cute clothes. Check

The best and the most handsome owner ever. Check

Leon is the best, you lucked out hard on this one. While other hybrids are on the streets, scared and hungry. Your bundled up in your own room, with a massive vanity and a walk-in closet stacked with expensive clothes. You sleep in your king-sized bed with silk sheets, only having to share it with the absurd collection of plushies you have.

You don’t even sleep on it, instead you prefer to overtake Leon’s bed. Usurping his space, and making it your own. Sure, yours is extremely comfortable, pink sheets, bouncy mattress, with plenty of pillows for your singular head. But it doesn’t smell like Leon, it doesn’t have Leon’s warmth, nor the massive biceps you can hide under when there is a thunder storm.

While other hybrids, search day and night for something edible to eat. You get to be picky with what you put into that bratty mouth of yours. Your morning eggs need to be perfectly cooked, not too dry, but not too raw either. Your like orange juice, but not if it tastes too much like oranges. And god forbid your bread is too stale.

Leon has built that attitude of yours, brick by fucking brick. Complying to everything you say to make you happy, cause seeing you happy makes him happy. Want this skirt even though you have the same exact one back at home? You got it. Want to try a definitely over priced banana milk shake, even though you don’t like bananas? How can he to say no to you.

You are practically a show dog without even competing. All you do is sit at home and be pretty. Leon doesn’t even let you lift a finger. He does all the laundry and cleans up after the mess you make without ever complaining cause according to him, he adopted you, so he should deal with it. And you are completely fine with that mindset. The two of you have an unsaid deal, you empty Leon’s pockets, and in return you shower him with love. Not that it’s difficult for you to do that, the man goes above and beyond for you.

Some call you spoiled, bratty and picky, but how is it your fault if your owner provides you with a life that most humans can’t even afford.

Well, this peace of yours was disturbed with a knock on the door one Sunday afternoon. Leon walks over and opens it cause you’re not allowed to open to strangers. You do however hide behind his shoulder, eyes peeking over the muscles, with your tail wagging.

Did Claire come to visit?? Or is it Sherry?? Wait maybe it’s Chris!

The door opens revealing whoever is behind it. And it’s… who even is that?

“Hi!” A random woman greets, she looks about your age. Honey blonde hair, long and luscious with few highlights here and there, full face of make up, long stiletto red nails, and wearing the tightest shirt and jeans you’ve ever seen. “I’m Irene, just moved in the apartment across from you and wanted to say hi.”

Her smile is blinding, it’s bright… too bright, you hate it. Leon smiles back greeting her as well, tone polite and friendly. You don’t say anything, lurking behind the safety of his broad shoulders, nit picking the appearance of the woman in front of you. She hands over a plate of chocolate chip cookies, wrapped up and tied with a pretty pink ribbon that matches the plate. “These are freshly baked, my grandma’s recipe.”

Why is she so happy and cheerful? You have a bad feeling about her. Your owner takes the plate from her, thanking her for the gesture. People still bake cookies for their neighbors nowadays? She must have a lot of free time huh.

Well, whether you like her or not, it doesn’t mater cause she’s going to leave anyways. The two of you never interact with your other neighbors, and she shouldn’t be any different.

“Wanna come in?”

“Yeah sure.”

What the fuck. Your mouth falls open at how quickly she answered that. She didn’t even take a moment to think, it’s like she was expecting him to offer. Knowing Leon, he probably asked to be polite, and expected her to refuse like how most people tend to do. How normal people do. The shocked expression that appears on your owner’s face for less than a second backs your claim.

He steps aside for her to enter, and you remain glued behind him. She walks in, the clicking sound of her heels echoing through the apartment. The older man ushers her to the living room and they take a seat on the couch. You stand in place at the doorway, watching them from a far.

Listen, your no social expert. You’re just a puppy hybrid, that’s way too spoiled and you spend all day doing nothing at home. But stepping into a random neighbor’s apartment after just moving in sounds like it’s not the smartest thing to do. Especially since Leon clearly looks at least fifteen years older than her. Something smells fishy, and your nose is never ever wrong.

She starts making small talk, about where she’s from, what she does for a living. Things you couldn’t care less about. However, what you do care about is how she laughs too hard at Leon’s stupid jokes, throwing her head back and all. The way she flutters her lashes at him the way you do. The way she tilts her head to the side while nodding as he talks. She’s definitely hitting on him.

The sound of Leon calling your voice, shifts your attention off of her and onto him. He must’ve told her about you, he always parades you around like a trophy to everyone and anyone he has ever known. You walk over to them hesitantly and stand next to his side.

“Aww she’s adorable.” She coos. “I love puppy hybrids.”

Liar, this bitch didn’t even glance your way the whole time she’s here.

“Yeah, she’s a good girl.” Leon adds, with a smile on his face like you’re his biggest accomplishment. Your heart flutters at the way he praises. ‘Good girl’ you’ve heard those two words about a million times ever since you stepped into his home. Yet, each time it never fails to make you get all shy. “Go baby, go say hi to Irene.”

You don’t move a muscle. Usually, you are never one to disobey Leon, he’s too nice for you to treat him like that. But you really don’t want to say hi to a woman who is shamelessly hitting on him in the middle of your living room.

“She’s probably a bit shy.” And she’s clearly stupid, cause someone who’s shy wouldn’t be glaring at her like this. With her incapability to read the fucking room, she does the mistake of reaching her hand to pet you.

Naturally, you start growling, the meanest growl that’s ever come out of your mouth. Ears moving back, eyes shooting daggers at her, and a stiff tail. You honestly don’t know who you are at this point. But it does the job, and scares her enough to retract her hand and leave you alone.

Leon is shocked at your actions as well. You’ve never growled at anyone in your life. Sure, that mouth of yours could use some manners. But you wouldn’t hurt a fly.

She chuckles nervously and leaves not too long after. Once she does, Leon turns around and faces you. Shit, he’s giving you that look. The “I’m disappointed” look, the “I expected more from you” kind of look, the one he gives you when you walk into his office uninvited and mess with his documents. You can sense yourself shrinking with shame under his gaze. But with no regrets.

“We growl at people now?” he says crossing his arms. God, him and those stupid rhetorical questions. “She was nice, and even got us cookies.”

Yeah, ones you can’t even fucking have cause you’re not even allowed to have chocolate. If anything, she’s trying to kill you and he’s upset over a harmless growl? You knew she was bad news, that push up bra of hers is doing wonders at infecting his brain.

Ever since that day, Irene has been stuck on Leon, like gum on his shoe. Asking for his help to clean her “broken” sink, which was never broken by the way. It would be something minor that even you could figure out. She then would play it off as her being silly, and offer a cup of coffee to have him stay longer.

She’d try to make small talk about his motorcycle. What kind it was, when did he get it, how fast it can go. Leon being himself he would explain and ramble on and on about it, sometimes you think he loves that thing more than he loves you. He would get into the nitty gritty of it all, and she would nod her head mindlessly, eyes only focused on his face.

She’d always be touchy around him, gently caressing his arm and giving him unwanted hugs here and there. She was once over at your apartment, even though no one even invited her. They were both in the kitchen with you sitting alone in the living room eavesdropping on their conversation. When she had the audacity to ask him if she could touch his muscles. You felt sick, disgusted, and nauseated. She touches his muscles once and what next? They fall in love and get married? She’d never let you stay in the house or sit on the couch. You’d start eating out of dog bowls and do chores. You can’t let that happen, over your dead pampered body.

Thinking fast, you slam a nearby vase on the floor and quickly lay down next to the shattered pieces, faking a fall and start whinning. Leon rushes out the kitchen and over to you, asking what happened and if you were okay. Long story short, you told him that you slipped and fell breaking the vase along the way. And he bought it, why would his sweet pup lie to him anyways? Although you had to put on your best act and feign an ankle injury for a week, you managed to keep Irene’s hands off of him while successfully getting extra attention.

Today, when you and Leon came back from your daily walk she was ‘coincidentally’ about to knock on your door to give you a new batch of brownies that she baked. As if she hasn’t been coincidentally doing that for four weeks now and it’s getting exhausting.

Like always, Leon thanks her and you both head into your apartment. You can’t stand it anymore, her constantly berating the two of you with her weekly attempts to start a conversation with Leon. Her trying to mesmerize him with her tiny skirts and “fuck me” eyes, it’s honestly pathetic.

Leon is supposed to be your owner. Your supposed to have his attention, his time, his everything, because he’s yours. And so, you grab the plate from Leons hand and you dump everything into the trash. He follows you into the kitchen and stares in shock for a moment.

“Hey! just cause you can’t have those doesn’t mean I can’t sweet heart.” He jokes, tone trying to lighten up the mood.

A smile creeps up on his lips, he thinks its another one of your silly tantrums cause you can’t have any of the things she bakes. However, his expression softens when he sees the tears brimming in your eyes as you look back at him.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to have some too. I can get you one-”

“It’s not about the stupid fucking brownies Leon.” Tears are now wetting your cheeks. You can’t tell if you’re crying out of anger or out of jealousy, or both. You’ve been bottling up all this rage for so long and now you’re finally let it all out.

“She keeps trying to flirt with you and get in your pants and you’re so oblivious to all of it.”

He connects the dots and his brows furrow with an emotion you can’t quiet read. Letting his shoulders relax, he steps closer. “Honey, its not like that. She’s just-”

“Being nice? Or is it kind?” you interrupt, your sadness turning into anger. “She literally only bakes for you, she only talks to you, she doesn’t even bother glancing at any of our other neighbors.”

He’s speechless, the lines between his brows disappearing as he tries to figure out what to say.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, didn’t know that made you feel uncomfortable.” Is all he managed to say back.

You two stand there in silence, eyes staring into each other. He doesn’t get it; he still doesn’t get why you’re acting like this. You shouldn’t do it, you really shouldn’t, but impulsivity wins and you do it anyways. Grabbing his face, you crash your lips onto his, claiming them in a possessive kiss.

‘A dog is a man’s best friend’ well, your Leon’s half best friend, but what’s the other half? His roommate? His pet? His lover? It’s a question you thought about every day since you discovered that you had a crush on him. A question you were always too scared to ask, fearing that you’re going to be disappointed with the answer.

He’s not kissing you back, he’s not even doing anything. Fuck, what did you just do. Stepping back, with your heart beating out of your chest. You look up back into his eyes with whatever courage and dignity you have left.

He looks at you for moment, eyes piercing through you. You’re so sleeping on the streets tonight, you better start waving goodbye to all of your twenty-three plushies and start searching for a card board box to sleep on for tonight. Irene didn’t even have to bother to kick you out, you single handedly did that yourse-

He’s smiling.

You’re so confused right now.

His hand grabs your chin forcing your eyes to stay locked on his, then he leans down to reach your level. “You could’ve just said that you were jealous, you know?”

The sultry tone of his voice, and his hot breath near your ear only makes your brain processing speed slow down even further. Moving away from you, he drops a delicate kiss onto your lips, and your knees almost give out.

“But you couldn’t just do that, huh. That ego of yours wouldn’t handle it.”

You nod, you can’t even muster up the courage to say anything back with the way his sky-blue eyes are staring at you.

“Fuck, I spoil you too much.” His lips connect with yours once again. They feel so soft, softer than you expected, juxtaposing the roughness of his stubble that is grazing your skin. You kiss him back nervously, all of that prior courage, nowhere to be found.

He leads you backwards till the small of your back is flush against the cold kitchen counter, one of his hands gabbing the surface next to you while the other caresses your waist. Amidst you focusing on his lip movement, you feel one of his legs separate yours, placing itself between them.

Both your lips detach with a string of saliva still connecting them. Your bottom lip is puffy and shiny, he notices and a grin appears on his face. “Such a sweet little thing I have.” He mutters, the jean clad thigh placed between yours closes the proximity with your cunt, causing your brows to furrow at the feeling.

The hand on your waist drops to your hip, ushering it to move in a rocking motion. You can feel the heat from the slick pooling on the gusset of your panties as you let out a sigh of pleasure. A hand creeps up towards your chin once again, grabbing it and gingerly coaxing your mouth to open.

Looking up at him, your greeted with lustful eyes instead of the usual tired yet affectionate ones. He leans in, spitting into your mouth. The hot saliva hits your tongue, and he opens your mouth a bit more to watch it. “Swallow for me.”

Without even thinking twice, you comply. You feel hot all over, you’re pretty sure that you leaked through your panties and onto his jeans. “Always such a good girl.”

He places a soft kiss on your forehead as you continue riding his thigh. It feels so good, yet not enough. Apparently, the feelings mutual. Removing his leg, he grabs your arm, turning your around with your back flush against his.

His hands drop down to your hips, grabbing and moving them backwards till only your ass can feel his warmth. You hear him drop down to his knees behind you, his hands move up from your thighs all the way to your ass, bunching up the skirt that you’re wearing. With your panties exposed to him, he can see the wet spot that is now formed on the fabric. Cursing under his breath, he plants a kiss on one of your thighs then the other, before his finger hooks on your panties, pulling them to the side.

With the cold air hitting your dripping core, you can sense his prying eyes taking in the view in front of him. A thumb grazes your weeping core, then drops down to your clit. The sensation causes your hips to twitch, earning a low chuckle from his lips. Feeling his warm breath on your pussy as he licks his lips. Before placing them on your center with an open-mouthed kiss. Which is then followed by his tongue flattening out and dragging up your folds.

He laps up the slick coming out of your cunt a few times before fully committing and beginning to eat you out. You moan, spreading your legs even further, welcoming his mouth. Groaning, his hand grabs the plush of your thighs, spreading you, and giving himself more space to work with.

Your hand moves up, cupping one of your breasts as you keep gushing on his face. He pulls away, grabbing the hem of your panties and pulling them down to your ankles. Out of curiosity, you turn your head to see what he’s up to. Your eyes lock, and so he seizes your thighs with both hands spreading you open once more, before he spits on your cunt.

Moaning at the sights and at the warmth coating your opening, you see crows’ feet forming at the corner of his eyes as he attaches his mouth on your pussy once more while maintaining eye contact. He starts sucking on your clit, then moves up fucking you with his tongue.

When your legs begin to tremble and when your hips start squirming, he picks up on the fact that your peak is near. Your hand holds on to that counter for dear life, as Leon disappears behind you, and all that could be heard are the dirty sounds coming from the apex of your thighs.

“Gonna cum on my face baby? Mark me as yours?” he whispers, before going back to pleasuring you. His words float into your brain forcing your orgasm out of you. The idea of marking Leon as yours, letting everyone know that he’s off limits brings you near tears as you cry out of pleasure, with your mind completely blissed out.

Your legs threaten to collapse, but rough hands hold them in place. Hearing Leon rise to his feet, the wet noises are now replaced with the unmistakable sound of his belt getting undone that is followed by his pants dropping on the floor.

“Turn around sweet heart, wanna see your face.”

Doing what he asked you to do, he grabs your thigh pulling you closer you him. Your hands are placed behind you, gripping the counter for balance. Dropping your eyes over to his dick, you watch as he strokes it lazily, the tip pink and precum pooling on top. You bite your lip and you go back to looking at his face once again. He watches you with hooded eyes, as his hands continue stroking. Heat rushes to your face from embarrassment of facing him now.

Feeling his cock slap against your clit a few times. He kisses you once again before fucking into your heat, coaxing a muffled moan out of both of you. He begins thrusting shallowly, and one of your hands moves over to grip his shoulder. Placing his forehead on yours, his thrusts become deeper, drawing out more breathy moans out of you.

Thanks to the position you’re in, his dick is hitting all the right spots, even making the slight pain pleasurable. It doesn’t take long for him to bottom out completely, hips making contact with your inner thighs. His hand makes its way to your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles as the tip of his cock kisses the opening of your cervix. The pace begins to pick up yet it still feels very intimate, your thinking skills dissipating by the second.

“Daddy… please”

“Right here sweetheart, right here and all yours.”

You pull him into another kiss by his shirt, whining at how sensitive you’re getting. Kissing you back feverishly, the hand on your clit moves quicker doubling the pleasure. A series of begs and moans leave your lips and before you know it, another release washes over you. Your cunt squeezes down on his dick causing him to suck in a breath of air.

“Squeeze my cock baby, yeah just like that.” You’re seeing stars at this point, making his voice feel so distant yet near. “Fuck, always been a daddy’s girl.”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, hips still slamming into yours as he chases his own high. And only after a few moments, his breaths get heavier as he releases his load into you. A blissful smile emerges on your face at the warm feeling, a souvenir to remind yourself who you belong to incase the collar wasn’t enough.

Pumping a few more thrusts into you, he pecks your forehead sweetly. His large hands cupping your cheeks and mouth kissing yours.

“All yours sweet thing, heart and soul.”

divider by: @/thetaey

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