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me-loving-woso · 2 days

Text

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world.

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy.

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week.

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.”

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing.

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you.

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-"

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work.

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours.

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly.

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment.

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly.

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously.

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.”

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her.

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination.

#woso imagine #barca femeni #woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #alexia putellas #woso fic #barcelona femeni

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artdcnaldson · 3 days

Note

ok remember when I said that last ask was the horniest thing I'd ever written? Well scratch that bc this is a new record. (Obligatory disclaimer if you don't like it feel free to delete/ignore it)

Imagine- if you will- tashi bringing you to one of arts games. And you're in a sweet little tennis dress and you sit next to her and watch art, not even paying attention to the game just taking in his form, the shine of sweat, the concentration on his face, the little grunts and moans. And obviously you start shifting around in your seat, because, what are you supposed to be??? Dry???? No! So, it's the last break and tashi takes you to the bathroom and makes you lean over so she can check on the situation, and your white panties are so wet they're basically see through (in an ideal world she would've banned you from wearing any just to torture you but unfortunately they're famous and with the press and everything it's too much of a risk 😞 ) and you're really hoping she'll help you out but she just goes "hmm" and takes you back to your seat. And the breaks not over, arts noticed that yall were gone and he's making eye contact with tashi and she just. Nods at him. And he's already winning but for the rest of the match he's on fire, practically wiping the floor with the other guy.

After it's over and he's won and done all the press and stuff, you ride back to their hotel, with tashi in the middle bc she's the only one who can be trusted to keep control of herself. You and art are practically vibrating, with desire and exhilaration respectively. So you get back to the hotel room and tashi tells art to go sit on the couch. Then finally, she gives you a little jerk of her chin and you scramble to put yourself over his knee bc you know that he's always antsy after a win but tashi will want to go over everything while it's as fresh as possible, so you just hang out there and let him play with your sopping cunt and ignore you, just feeling him hard against your stomach but satiated for now since he has something to do while he listens to tashis critiques. When she's done she'll give you further instructions and maybe reward you for good behavior.

(am I gonna become a smut writer this is kinda fun)

I’m so fucking obsessed. I’m on my knees. Anything to keep Artashi happy 😁🫵 just look at them

Rating: E(18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, face sitting, fingering, mild mommy/daddy kink, mild dom/sub dynamics) that’s it that’s the story. Just porn without plot

your brain is just sooo fuzzy and mindless while art’s playing with you. The cute shorts you wore beneath the dress tugged to the side, his fingers stuffed inside of you, your own juices smeared down your thigh, spilling more with each slow thrust of his fingers. It could be a few minutes, or an hour. You just know that you lose yourself in the rise and fall of Tashi’s voice as she runs through her notes, in the warm pressure of Art’s thighs pressing against you.

You must’ve gotten too loud, because Tashi’s kneeling in front of you— holding your chin in her hand, forcing eye contact. “Baby, how’s Art supposed to focus when you’re acting like this, huh? Tomorrow’s match is important, he needs to hear this.”

You whine. Big mistake. Tashi meets Art’s gaze, makes a face you don’t understand. And then Art’s slipping his fingers from your warm, needy cunt. “Clean him up,” Tashi instructs.

You wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them, cleaning any evidence of your arousal off. You take them deeper, feeling the brush of his fingers at the back of his throat. You moan softly— Tashi grabs your hair and pulls you off.

“Do you have any critiques for Art?” She asks. You blink slowly. Critiques?? What was there to critique?? “You were at the game. Show Art that you were paying attention.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you looked into Art’s eyes. God, he was so pretty. And then your eyes traveled down, and he was so hard in his shorts that it was tenting the fabric. You just wanted to mouth at him through them, make him feel good. “I— I don’t.”

Tashi sighed, almost disappointed, but not really. Tennis critiques weren’t what you were there for. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She patted your thigh. “Go lay down on the bed.”

You obey so sweetly— hands by your sides, fisted in the duvet so you won’t be tempted to touch yourself. Your thighs rub together as you seek friction, need pulsing between your thighs, adding to the mess of wetness.

It’s five minutes (which you know, because you count) until Tashi and Art join you. Art’s down to the fucking obscene briefs Tashi makes him wear, straining against the fabric obscenely. And Tashi’s wearing fucking agent provocateur, so beautiful that you could die happy just at the sight of her.

“If you paid attention to the match, we would’ve been really sweet to you,” Tashi hums as she takes off your dress. The shorts are soaked so badly that she practically peels them away from your cunt. “But all you could think about was getting fucked, huh?”

You nod as she presses two fingers between your lips, pushing all the way until she hits the back of your throat and you gag around them. She stays like that, thrusting her fingers between your lips, smiling every time your eyes fill with unshed tears and your throat constricts. “It’s been a long day. Just let mommy and daddy use you.”

And you do, because that’s all you can really ask for. Tashi slips off her lingerie, putting on a show without even trying. She straddles your face, knees planted on either side of your head, and sinks onto your waiting mouth.

You moan at the taste of her on your tongue, hands eagerly grabbing at her ass to pull her closer. Usually she would scold you for being greedy, but it was the farthest thing from her mind while she was benefiting from said neediness. You eagerly alternated between lapping at her dripping center and giving her clit the attention it needs.

And then there’s Art. He pulls apart your thighs and pushes into the tight, wet heat waiting for him there. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as he sinks inch after inch after inch inside. He groans at the feeling of your pussy gripping him, pulling him in, in, in. His grip on your hips is so tight it feels bruising.

You lose yourself in the two of them— brain going fuzzy and empty. All you knew, all that mattered in the moment was Tashi, and Art, and how good you felt.

And Tashi’s moaning above you— relishing in your need to please. Even with her husband balls deep inside of you, even with your mind so fuzzy, you keep your attention divided so fairly. You were so fucking nice, she didn’t even have to take the reins— she just got to sit there and let you work her with your tongue.

You were in fucking heaven. Art wasn’t content just using— it feels better when you cum while he’s inside of you. He moves you like a pretty little doll, adjusting you just right. He puts your legs over his shoulders so he gets deeper, kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. His thumb presses against your clit, rubs in slow circles.

Tashi cums first— hips stuttering as she grinds against your face. You relish in it, licking at her center as she comes down, until the lightest brush against her clit makes her twitch with overstimulation. She moves off of you, kissing you with slow, sweet laps of her tongue. You give a shuddery gasp into her mouth.

“Is daddy making you feel good?” Her words are cooed against your ear. You nod wordlessly, only capable of pretty moans or needy whines. She turns her gaze to Art, who’s already close as is, without the attention of his fucking perfect wife.

“Close,” Art groans, meeting her gaze. Her lips turn into an amused smirk as she pushes his thumb off of your clit, and replaces it with her own lithe fingers.

Your back arches as she works you with her fingers, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Art continues to fuck into you. Each thrust is accompanied by lead, near pornographic sounds— the squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the fucked-out moans passing his lips.

Your climax overtakes you suddenly. Your back arches off the bed as you cum. Your pussy clenches around Art’s cock as he continues to fuck into you, and your release leaves an obscene, creamy ring around the base of him. Tashi’s lips are on yours, swallowing down the moans and cries falling from your lips as Art fucks you into overstimulation.

Art buries himself within you as he cums, spilling into you with a few shallow thrusts. You whine when he finally pulls out and some of cum dribbles out, making an even bigger mess of the duvet.

Tashi pets your hair sweetly, kisses your sweat-sticky forehead. Art leaves to grab a towel— you hear him dampening it in the fancy en-suite bathroom. “By the way, I thought you shouldn’t get to cum.”

Art laughs lightly as he returns, cleaning you up between your thighs. “I told her I’d throw the match tomorrow, it always works.” He kisses you deeply, and you moan against his mouth. God, he was a good kisser.

“I can always just stop believing you,” Tashi reminded him. “Maybe I was in a giving mood.” Art snorts, you meet her gaze through narrowed eyes.

She’s right where she belongs. Art’s head is on her shoulder, yours rests on her chest. You’re all just a tangle of sweaty limbs.

TASHI DUNCAN I WONT U SO BAD 😚🫵

Sorry to Art he truly is a racket and a dick in this fic

#Tashi Duncan x reader #Tashi Duncan #tashi duncan smut #art donaldson x reader #art Donaldson #art donaldson smut #my writing #blurbs

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jjkilll · 2 days

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-✫CINDERELLA | JJK✫-

— pairing | idol jk x singer y/n (feat. 127's idol mark lee and mentions of idol jaehyun)

— summary | The Golden release party was filled to the brim, the whole night being about Jungkook and the release of his first solo album. It's hard for him to focus when you look that damn good and when other guys are checking you out.

— warning | smut, name-calling, rough sex, jealous jk, choking, unprotected sex (please use condoms i'm begging), creampie, oral (f receiving)

— word count | 1.3K

— song | Cinderella - Mac Miller

You and Jungkook had been fucking around for a few months. So naturally when it came time for his release party, you were one of the first to be invited.

Jungkook didn't think he was jealous, But then again people do have a hard time acknowledging their flaws. Seeing Mark chatting you up at the bar in the loft made his neck heat up. Mark Lee was a guy you went on a few dates with when you first got to Korea. He was a nice, funny guy but you two just didn't click like you and Jungkook did.

"You look great Y/n, How've you been. I haven't seen you in a while." He explains with a smile. "Thanks, Mark you're too sweet. I've been good. You?" You respond before taking a sip of your drink. "I'm good too, you know working, company's got me pretty busy." You nod. "Yeah I heard, Jaehyun told me all about you guys' tour, I'm surprised you're even here." He chuckles shrugging. The silence between you two is comfortable before he clears his throat. "So, um you seeing anybody." Before you could respond you hear a voice behind you. "Mark! Thanks for coming out man! I know how busy you and Jae are having you here means a lot bro!" He nods "For sure man," a little irritated that Jungkook interrupted. Jungkook puts his arm around your shoulder. "I see you met Y/n." You look at him and he smiles. "She's great right?" He asks before planting a kiss on your cheek. You look at him eyes widening a bit before looking back to Mark. "Yeah, we met last year... So, just catching up." He smiles lightly at you. "Well I'd hate to interrupt but could I borrow you for a second Y/n?" You hum giving Mark a small smile before Jungkook takes you by the hand pulling you away.

He walks up the stairs past idols hyping him and congratulating him on his release. He thanks them genuinely and you smile trailing behind him, his hand still in yours. You reach his bedroom and he pulls you in.

He backs you up to the shut door and kisses you deeply, almost hungry. "Jungkook," You say breaking the kiss. "Why were you talking to him?" He asks kissing you again. You bring your hand up to his face pulling him in while he kisses you, you wanted him just as badly. You use your free hand to undo his pants. Breaking the kiss, Jungkook kisses your neck. "You're jealous." You say your breathing hitches as he sucks your neck leaving a hickey. "I just don't like to share." He says quickly before going back to kiss your neck. "You aren't my boyfriend, Jungkook," you remind him. He hums, "We can change that." He whispers in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

He grips your waist pulling you closer before he lifts you. He kisses you sloppily, your tongues dancing together. He sets you on the bed shuffling your tiny dress up and pulling your panties down. You watch him kiss the inners of your thighs teasing. He grazes his thumb against your clit and you whimper. "He does it better than me?" He speaks softly. You shake your head quickly, his eyes are low as he smiles. "Words baby." He warns. "N-no he isn't! Please Jungkook, touch me." You beg him getting needier the more he traces his fingers along your skin. "I need you, only you." You say desperately.

He plunges two fingers into your wet cunt. "So wet baby." You moan as he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting the spot you love so much. His lips close around your clit as he fucks into you. You grab a handful of his hair as he eats you. "Fuck fuck fuck." you breathe out, getting so close to falling over the edge. You pull his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit. He moans like eating you pleases him (It does). "I'm going to come, please Jungkook I'm so fucking close," You cry out. "come for me baby, come on my tongue," He says quickening his pace. "Right there, right there, f-fuckkk." You come all over his tongue and he continues licking your clit until you come down. "S-stop I'm so sensitive." You push his head away as he smiles. You sit up on your elbows, looking at him at as he sits up. You notice how hard he is, his pants a little tighter displaying his thick cock. A little wet spot where his dick in tucked in his pants.

"Kook you're dripping." You tell him. "I know I almost came in my pants." He chuckles and you smile. "I'm serious, I only want you," you speak. "Say you'll be mine." He speaks crawling over you. "I'm yours, Kook." You say examining his face your eyes trailing from his to his lips. "Fuck me, Daddy." You say suddenly. He kisses you hungrily. "Fuck I'm gonna ruin you, baby." He sits up quickly taking his pants off and tossing them somewhere in the room. His cock is painfully hard, his tip red and leaking with pre-cum. He strokes himself a few times before lining himself up between your legs. He pushes his cock inside slowly giving you time to adjust to him.

you moan pornographically, and he shushes you. "Quiet baby, you don't want everyone to hear, do you?" You don't respond caught up in the feeling of being stretched out by him. "Move please Kook," you moan. "Suck a little slut begging for my cock, look at you." He starts fucking you at a steady pace. "Yes! Yes, Daddy please." He fucks into it a few times before pulling out. You groan at the loss of pleasure, whining. "Turn around." You quickly obey. He slides back into you fucking you deeply and quicker than before. "Fuck baby it's like your pussy was made for me." He throws his head back his orgasm coming closer. He pushes your head into the mattress making his strokes longer and slower, he feels deeper than ever before. "Oh shit, Jungkook, I-I'm gonna-" You come on his cock shaking as he fucks you and he groans as he empties himself inside you. "Fuck, baby." He slowly pulls out flopping beside you.

You look at each other and smile both chuckling lightly. "You're so pretty." He says softly. You blush hiding your face with your hands. "Don't be shy, my little Boston Creme." You hit his chest. "Really." You say laughing.

Suddenly you hear a knock at the door. "Jungkook!" It's Taehyung. "Come on bro, You're the man of the hour, you can fuck your little girlfriend later." He shouts through the door. You giggle as he rushes to get up. "Come on baby. They've noticed we left." He says putting his pants back on. "I'm sure they heard us Jungkook, we weren't exactly quiet." You remind him.

"Good. Mark will know you're mine." He flashes a smile helping you straighten out your dress. "You can't be this jealous all the time Kook, I told you I only want you.'

"I was not jealous." He protests.

"If that's what helps you sleep at night baby," you say with a chuckle. You leave the room and join the party. After a while you find yourself talking with Mark again. "So you and Jungkook." He starts, "Yeah, we're pretty close." You say innocently. "I can tell." He points to your neck and you quickly look in the mirror on the wall. A purple hickey clear as day on your neck. Your eyes widen as you look. Jungkook finds himself behind you again. "Sorry not sorry baby." He says hugging you from behind.

You smile to yourself, happy everyone knows you're his and his only.

✫ ------------------------✫

a/n: Thanks for reading, I'm only a writer's high rn hehe... feedback and requests are appreciated.

#jungkook jeon #jungkook #bangtan jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts army #jeon jungkoooook #bts #bts smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook smut #bangtan smut #bts recs #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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petew21-blog · 1 day

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Sexy revenge

I died serving my country as a mercenary all my life since I was left the school. Some might say that I did it only for money and they would be right. I did. It pass good. But I was freaking good at my job. I was a pro. And that's why they always called me back. Why I asked for more and more money and the government always provided. Cause they knew I would succeed.

But once, I wasn't the one picking my team. I always do background checks on them. But this one time I was assigned soldiers I knew but wasn't comfortable working with. Especially this one guy who would kill himself just cause his captain said so. The most loyal one I knew. I knew he despised me for the mercenary job. He did it for country, I did it for money. A loyal dog he was, I called him Rex just to mess with him. He clearly didn't like it. And to be honest, I really don't remember his name.

We were on a mission, the goal was clear. Secure the target, eliminate and get enough evidence and leave immediately.

It went smoothly. But as we found the guy, bombs around. Our squad was separated and I was left with Rex alone. We decided to find the evidence and leave. We were ambushed by a group of our enemies. Thanks to me, we managed to eliminate them all, including the target. But our team was still under fire from the roof. We sneaked up there. Rex was covering me and I eliminated the guy and saved my squad. And suddenly a shot went through my chest. I turned around painfully, just to see Rex holding our enemies weapon after firing.

"Nothing perosnal, orders are orders. You were a pain in the ass of our government. Always wanting more money, making your own rules. They know you're good, but so am I. This way, I'll get medals for saving our guys up here. While you will die here. That's where money gets you." and then he shot me in the head

And that's the last thing I remember. My body was transported back to the States. I somehow felt my prevence around it. The more time passed the more I could see the world around me. I become a ghost. I knew exactly why I didn't pass on. My unfinished bussiness was the one who shot me in the head. But how was I suppose to finish the bussiness now since I was a ghost.

Time went by. My body rotted in the ground. I was just roaming the world without no goal. But one day, I saw a ceremonial in the TV on the street. Rex was recieving a medal just as he said. "That fucker". The anger fuelled me. Revenge is the thing that let's me move on.

"I have to get to him somehow. But he is now protected. Hidden in the army. And I am still a ghost that only now knows how to make lights flicker and slightly move objects. Unless I scare him to death I won't get my revenge. I have to get a body."

The first person I tried on was a homeless person on the street. He was high on fentanyl. That made it easier for me cause he didn't fight. But staying in a body that's this high is really hard. I left his body and tried on some kid in a park and succeeded. Ok, next level. A teenager.

My luck was really great today. I picked one who was a pickpocket and was followed by a police officer. So much running after being dead and the possession made it hard for me to run from him. And I got caught. Whiel we were writing on the red light. Me, still in the teens body, I now focused myself on the police officer on the passengers seat. He was asleep, probably from his night shift, maybe that will make it easier for me.

I concentrated and then my soul just moved a bit to the front. Being accepted in the adult body. He did put up a fight even though He was sleep, but I won.

I opened my eyes. My 'colleague' was looking at me and just laughed. "Bad dreams?"

"What?" my deep voice left my throat. What a manly body I picked.

"You were sharing man. You dreamed of some chick atleast?"

"Haha, yeah that's right" I chuckled and then pretended to sleep again to not let him question me again.

I left the teen thief with my colleague and went to the lockers to change and end my shift

Taking off the uniform I found out that the police officer, Adrian Jackson, I now possesed, had bunch of tatoos, hairy chest, muscular body and satisfactory dick. Mine was better. But this one is young. Might be nice to enjoy the young fertility again

I went to the mirror to get a good look at myself

"Ooooooh, look at those GUNS!" I flexed to see what I was now working with.

"This body is really nice. If I get my revenge I could stay being you, Adrian."

Tapping into Adrians mind I found out what his adress was. And what any man, not only gay ones, would do in this situations? That's right. I went to explore my new body in the shower. Feeling the hot water running down was erotic itself. I missed having feelings.

As I was drying off my hairy dick that just shot cum on the shower wall, I knew there was something missing

I found the clothes in his closet that were slightly resembling the ones I used to wear. What was now reflecting at me in the mirror was a young, hot reflection of an adult man, very similar to me as when I was starting my mercenary career.

I took a very revealing photo for later. Don't worry, I have to give this body a nice ride. And FUCK how I wanna ride someone. Whoever it is. Man, woman, anyone.

My plans are about to proceed. I have a body I need to take revenge on Rex. Another step? Leaving Adrian's job as a cop. Becoming a mercenary again. Getting a haircut and get as close to REX as possible.

Surely he will be tempted to take down another mercenary that is just like me before.

Revenge is so sexy if you ask me

Story request from inbox: You can make a story about an old mercenary possessing a handsome young cop, and turning him into a new mercenary.

#body possession #criminal body swap #soldier possession #Revenge #Body possession #Possession soldier #mercenary enrollment

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ryomens-vixen · 2 days

Text

420 w/ 90s Toji

CW: Toji himself is enough warning, rough sex, car sex, gun play, ass eating, profanity, reader is black coded and so is toji.

Author's note: If you have problem with me making toji speak in AAVE please don't hesitate to eat my fat ass about it, please and thank you.

Word count: YIPPIE Y'all finally get a word count! 2.6k ✨

Summary: If you ever wanted to get high the Toji here's your chance.

“Give yuh my fuckin babies bruh, I'ma give yuh my fuckin babies, Ma.”

How did you end up here? Going to pound town in the back of a Toji's big daddy truck, high as hell in a smoke filled truck- oh that's right you know how. It really started when you were out with the boys chillin- the boys meaning Satoru, Suguru, and Kento. You were watching them shooting hoops, Then the hood's hottest DILF and Whore pulled up with his kid- Megumi, he's such a cutie when he isn't mean muggin everyone and when he comes to his dad? Oh boy he doesn't play he's such a daddy's boy that Toji can't even pick up women without the lil boy tagging along. Megumi calls most of the shots anyways- if you're pretty to him that Toji will definitely fuck with you, if not? Ain't no use in talking to him, you're cooked.

Today T-Raw was up to no good as usual not only did he come to shoot some hoops, but he also came to pick up a couple of ladies to “take out” later on- Here is goes taking off that slutty tank top of his, not like he can ever keep his clothes on anyways, that fuckin slut- you couldn't stand him. You couldn't stand him because all he does is fuck around and drive all these bitches crazy about him- clearly his dick can't be that good to be chasing him around like that, or so you thought.

“you bet not cum on this dick yet bitch, I ain't done wit cho ass, c'mere!”

Fuck how did you get here… oh yeah that's right, it really started when they was playing B-ball. Megumi kept looking at you and since he's practically his father's wing man you were hoping the lil boy didn't think you were pretty, then he spoke to you- talking about the dogs at their house to showing you his gold chain Toji bought him. But then it happened megumi ran off to go tell his dad about you.. Just your luck right? Riiiiight..

The whole game stopped because megumi had so much to say about you, hell he even told the guys you're his new mama because of how beautiful you are and it had T-Raw checking you out even Satoru gassed him up to go holla at you.

“Her? Oh that's y/n, you tryna fuck on her? Shit she hard to talk to, but on ma the pussy good as fuck she was just fuckin on me and Suguru last week.” Satoru had promised he'd never tell a soul that y'all fucked, but you have known that not even Satoru himself could hold a glass on water.

And just like that Toji was convinced enough to come see bout you.

“Wass good ma”

“..... “

“Hello? Mamas, So you sit finna talk to me? C'mon ion bite, baby.”

“Don't sit up here tellin them lies we all know yo ass bite.”

He chuckled, “Got a lil attitude problem. I like dat mamas. how bout you come smoke with me later on tonight.”

“I'm not one of these other bitches Toji so go find somebody to play with cause it ain't me.”

“Sound like you ain't had no dick Inna minute-”

“Maybe I don't want no dick from you!?”

Yeah, that's how it all went down. You were giving him too much lip that it was turning him on, that's why he didn't let up on you. He wanted to put you in your bratty ass place once and for all because clearly Satoru and Suguru didn't do it right. Naw you obviously needed some dick from big daddy himself, T-Raw.

Now here you are sitting in his truck getting hot boxed to hell, while Satoru and Suguru babysit megumi for that night, and man did you get the feeling neither of y'all would be able to make it home after this smoke session.

“You Eva put a blunt in yo pussy? I'll light for you- We gotta get fat ma blazed too yah feel me?”

What the fuck did he just say? “Toji shut the fuck up!” You have to admit that was pretty funny and wild to say at a time like this, but he isn't so bad right? Wrong.

You couldn't tell if it was the Kush getting to you or what, but with every minute that passed by he started to look more and more attractive. “Keep it together bitch” is what you thought to yourself, you didn't want to fuck around and find out why all his bitches were so crazy over him.

“So when you gone put that pussy on me, mamas?”

What the hell did he just say?

“I know she wet as fuck f'me, come climb on daddy's lap fo a minute.” this whole time his hand had been gripping your thigh close enough to your coochie. Yeah she was wet- soaking wet actually, but you weren't willing to admit that.. At least not verbally, because your body betrays you.

Before you knew it you had succumbed to his slick mouth, but it's not like you didn't fight about it. Oh but he loves a good ole brat- he loves the way they break once they've had a taste of his ten inch punisher and you were gonna break for him too.

“Bet you won't suck dis dick”

“Yeah I BET I won't, the fuck?”

“So all dat freak shit you do wit gang and nem just fo show, huh? Knew you wasn't bout nothin”

“Excuse me?!” How the fuck did he even know about that?! I bet Satoru told him, yeah totally never fuckin him again.

“You heard me, Ma. Chu ain't bout dat life fo'real.”

“Says who? I do what the fuck I want, when I want and who I want.”

“I betchu won't come fuck me then.”

“Bet!”

It all started with you giving him the best toe curling head he ever had, the way you kissed on the tip, licked him up from Gooch to tip, the way you suffocated on his dick, yeah you took all ten inches and he loved every bit of it “Fuck, y- you a nasty bitch” is what he groaned, he felt so good he took a chunk of your hair into his fist and held you still so he could fuck that throat of yours. You were his bitch now, you definitely weren't going nowhere sucking his dick this good.

You thought it'd stop at that no- you found yourself eating this man's ass like a full course meal, like you were hungry and it wasn't even your idea, it was his and you can thank his old bitch for that. Man was he a freak having his legs in the fuckin air, lighting another blunt while he watches you eat his ass. This was way out of your league, eating ass? Not even Satoru and Suguru made you do this, but at least you learned a thing or two from fuckin around with Mei Mei and Shoko one time. Honestly you were scared to even put your tongue down there, thinking he was dirty, but he was surprisingly clean.

“Dirty ass bitch get in the back, c'mon” he was ready, and you were nervous. We're you gonna be like all these other bitches that fucked him and started acting crazy, or were you gonna treat like you treat Satoru and Suguru? It was hard to tell because you never heard any complaints about Toji unless it's about him not answering his phone or talking to other bitches, the works.

“Bet yo dick ain't even that big-”

“Shut cho ass up and bend ova bitch I'll show yo ass how big it is.”

That was your mistake- bending over. Toji pushed your skirt up over your waist and wasted no time ripping those sexy panties off. Your pussy was dripping for him, spreading your asscheeks apart Toji took his cock in hand and rubbed it all along your wet folds, teasing you while you waited anxiously for him to fuck you- so anxious that you started popping off at the mouth again.

“Can't find the hole ol’ man?”

“Can't wait to shut cho lil ass up-”

“Pus-”

Then it happened he shut you up with the quickness, ramming all ten inches into that tight wet pussy of yours. It felt like your body took a screenshot from feeling his cock hit your cervix like that all you could do was tremble and tear up. You felt so full, hell you felt like his dick was somehow in your chest it was so fuckin big that you could hardly adjust to it.

Reaching back to place your hand on his abdomen was your biggest mistake ever “Move yo fuckin hand” is all he said before take ahold of your arm, bending it it behind your back and using his weight to push his cock deeper into you as if it wasn't deep enough.

The only thing that gave you enough relief was when he pulled out, you could finally breathe that was until he rammed his cock back inside… over and over and over again. He was so rough it felt like your mind was going blank all you could think about was how good your feeling right now, how deep his cock is, how your moans were practically stuck in your throat, toji had your eyes rolling back he even put his blunt out on your asshole so he could focus on fuckin you, god he was a nasty, nasty man, no wonder everyone was crazy for him.

The truck was rocking, you finally let out a strained moaned, Toji was fuckin you so ruthlessly leaving hand prints on your asscheeks, pushing down on your lower back to make you arch some more for him, grabbing fists full of your hair as he leaned his weight into every thrust. Your mind was going crazy, but you weren't the only one- Toji was too. Not only was he high as all hell, he was starting to get drunk off your pussy. He was loving how tight you were around him, squeezing and sucking him back into you- in his mind you were doing this on purpose, throwing that pussy- HIS pussy back on him like that yeah to him you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Man fuck! Fuck you let then two fools hit before me?! Fuckin slut” God he put his weight into it again.

“Lil bratty ass bitch got nothin to say now, say sumthin else, come bitch say some more slick shit for daddy so I keep on tearin this pussy up!”

You were past cloud nine at this point everything felt good, his dick, his words, his thrusts, everything. You almost lost your mind when he reached out in front of you and grabbed his gun. That's when you realized how crazy this man is- he pulled out a damn gun!? For what!? Now you see why everyone is so crazy about him.

“T- Toji Wa-”

“Shut the fuck up” he pulled out panting and started rubbing the barrel of it against your wet folds. “How you gone feel if I put this glock 30 in this pussy? Hm? Talk to me mamas, I'm not fuckin done witchu”

“Toji i-”

“It's T-Raw, bitch.” You trembled the second he pushed the barrel inside your pussy. You couldn't tell if you were scared or excited, but you knew one thing he sure as hell was excited just from pumping your pussy with his glock.

“You's a nasty dirty ass, bitch, throwin back on MY gun, bet it ain't as good as this mufuckin pipe.” He had a cocky tone to his voice while he was gripping the hell out of his cock and fisting it vigorously. “Fuck it-” he tossed his gun to the side causing you the whimper from the sudden emptiness, but that was soon replaced with him slamming his cock back in, then reaching around you to grab ahold of the sides of your mouth as he drilled you, drool on his fingers and arm rest, drool on his cock that's how he liked it.

You could feel a knot in the pit of your pussy, you were so close, tears welled up in your eyes, you were going to burst at this rate, if he kept up brutal pace he'll be cleaning up coochie juice for weeks with the way you around to cum. You reached in between your legs to rub circles onto your clit to help get you to that big orgasm you've always wanted..

“T- T-Raw! F- Fuck! Daddy I'm gonna cum!”

Toji was so lost in your pussy it was almost like he was in another world, You were just too good for him. It was driving him crazy. He almost didn't register what you said at first, you? About to cum? Yeah no he couldn't have that yet, not until HE is done.

“you bet not cum on this dick yet bitch, I ain't done wit cho ass, c'mere!” Suddenly, He puts you into one of the meanest chokeholds you had ever been in, pulling your body onto his lap so that you're sitting on his fat cock with your legs propped up on the back on the front seats. Fuck he really wasn't done with you for real.

“Can't NOBODY fuck you like I do, you ain't gone be thinkin of nobody's dick, but mine after I'm done, you hear me bitch?! Take that shit, take it, take it, take it, Ah Fuck-!”

You couldn't breathe, your eyes were touching the back of your head, he was beating your pussy in and you couldn't do anything about it. His dick was good… too good in fact, he was slutting you out better than Satoru, Suguru, hell even Choso- but none of them know about that one. You could almost guarantee your brain chemistry has been altered just from the way he's trying to put his dick up your coochie, through your stomach and behind the left rib. All you could do now was take his dick like the good little bitch that you are.

“Give yuh my fuckin babies bruh, I'ma give yuh my fuckin babies, Ma.”

“Yes! G- Give it to me T-Raw! Give it to me Daddy!”

His thrust became sloppy and his grip around your neck tightened, he was definitely about to cum inside your sweet pussy, yet that's really you wanted now was for him to fill your pussy up with his baby batter. He let on one loud “Fuck” into your ear and rammed his dick inside you one more time, all you could feel so was his cock pumping his load inside you.

Once he was finished he let go of your throat, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. But the thing is you didn't get to cum yet and toji knew that and all he could do was smirk at your pouty lil face for not making you cum too.

“What? Yah mad bitch? Brats like yo ass don't deserve to cum.” He took his left over blunt and lit it.

“But since you was a good fuck I'll let you cum this once, but I ain't helpin, so bounce on dis dick all you want.”

“B.. But T-Raw”

“What the fuck did I just say? Huh? Get to fuckin bouncing, I'm waiting slut.”

You know it, you were going to be crazy just like all his other bitches after tonight… ain't no way you're going back to the boys, ever.

Tags: @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @ramonathinks @nkogneatho @tonycries @connorsui @honeeslust @halosdiary @hoshigaby @screampied @rinhaler @buttercupblu @triangularz @fairy-hub

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you

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reiderwriter · 1 day

Text

In Case I'm Mistaken

Chapter Five of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Your first run-in with Spencer Reid since he left you so spectacularly is fraught with tension. Sexual and otherwise.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI pregnancy symptoms, morning sickness/ throwing up, fingering, rough sex, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, choking, slapping, creampie but she's pregnant already, mild case details, etc.

A/N: We're halfway through! I sincerely hope everyone enjoys how stupid and oblivious Spencer is being because I can't promise he'll wise up anytime soon lmao. If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the comments ♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

When you left Spencer's apartment, you expected a call or a text or an email in the next three days. Penelope told you that's most likely when they'd wrap the case and when he'd be back at his apartment to see the stunt you had pulled.

You tried to force yourself back to work in the meantime, and it almost worked. Until you had to spend three hours a day crouched over a toilet bowl, emptying your stomach lining again and again. You had spent almost a full month like that before you realised you hadn't heard from him.

First, it was cases, then it was casework, and then it was cases again, but if probed, Spencer truly would have no idea you'd tried to get in contact with him at all. And it seemed he didn't care in the slightest.

He'd been home, but he hadn't been looking for anything out of place, so he hadn't seen anything out of place. Certainly not a bookshelf spelling out “CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THIS.” It was your choice to leave the cryptic message though, and you hadn't exactly left him any notes to say that you'd dropped by.

But finding out you were pregnant on a night you'd half-expected to throttle the man who'd impregnated you (verbally) and then having cried on his couch with one of his very close female friends? Yeah, you were confused and lost, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

With emotions and hormones running high, you couldn't even tell if Spencer was purposefully ignoring you or not.

The only saving grace in that month was your promotion.

It literally could not have come at a better time, and you'd enjoyed signing the papers greatly knowing you'd be blindsiding your boss with a pregnancy announcement in the next three months, should you be able to carry the baby successfully to that point.

You'd had your first check-up without a call from Spencer. You'd picked out your first baby outfit without a call from Spencer. You were pretty confident that you'd give birth to the goddamn baby without a call from Spencer.

Which is why when you found him in your office a month later, you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck and slowly choke the life out of him.

Between classes, you'd taken to running to the bathroom to hang your head in shame, not over morning sickness at all yet. You'd taken to keeping cereal bars and pregnancy safe snacks in your office in case you needed something else to help you power through the morning.

That morning was worse than others, with less than half your students in attendance and still two hours to waste standing up in front of a podium - department rules.

You'd thought you were going to expire in front of that toilet bowl, sending up your prayers as you checked your watch and realised you'd have a class again in an hour or two that you weren't fully prepped for.

So you slinked back to your office and tried to throw yourself onto the sofa, but unfortunately for you, a large man was blocking your way.

“Can I help you?” You eked out, voice weak but still able to convey all the annoyance you felt at the door.

“Sorry, sorry, this is your…?" The man said, smiling down at you. You had to give it to him, the man was good looking but you just waited for him to stand aside again.

“Do you mind?” You said, gesturing to the door you now knew the man was blocking. He wasn't letting you in for some reason, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why. It was your goddamn office for christ's sake. Your snacks were inside.

“Sorry, following orders.”

“Right, and whose orders would those be Mr…”

“SSA Luke Alvez,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

You'd have introduced yourself politely under any other circumstances but in reaching out his hand and giving his title, you'd seen the flash of his FBI badge on his hip and knew exactly who was behind this.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered, ducking under the man's arms and slamming the door to your office open to find Doctor Spencer Reid huddled over some files, two women flanking him on either side.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The two women looked taken aback, straightening immediately as they looked between you and Spencer. He was slow to take his eyes off whatever it was they were working on, as if playing with you once again.

You really regretted keeping his desk around, seeing how comfortable he looked there, how normal it was for you to see him there.

“Doctor Y/N. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to-?” You scoffed and slammed the door once more. “Yeah. Okay.”

One of the women quickly excused herself from the situation, almost as soon as she realised that once you'd finally locked eyes with Spencer, neither of you looked away.

“I'm sorry to intrude, my name is Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, I'm the Unit Chief of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. We really wouldn't be here if it weren't an emergency.”

You had to give it to the woman, but she caught on quickly and stepped between the two of you, breaking eye contact and forcing your attention onto her. You introduced yourself quickly.

“Doctor Y/N Y/L/N. I trudt that if you're here, something bad has happened.”

You noticed a flash of something as Emily shook your hand, hearing your name. It was subtle, and it was quick, but you saw her eyes flick to your stomach and then back up, and you froze.

She knew. Penelope hadn't exactly broken your trust - you never told her to keep a secret from anyone but Spencer - but you felt your guard go back up twofold.

“Emily, can I talk privately with Y/N for a moment?” Spencer asked, and you resisted the urge to cradle yourself, to cover whatever it was she may have seen in your appearance or the way you held yourself that became your tell.

You wanted to tell Spencer you were pregnant, sure, but you'd wanted to tell him a month ago. Now? Now you were pissed off.

The older woman quietly bowed out, reminding Spencer to reconvene with her in another hour. She shut the door quietly after she went, and you listened carefully to the retreating murmurs of her and the other agent down the hall until you were confident you were more or less alone.

And then you picked up the nearest book and threw it.

“Y/N! Listen, I can explain-”

You threw another book, and this one hit his arm. He winced and rubbed it quickly as he flinched away from you, picking up your third weapon.

“Explain what? Explain why you've commandeered my office for secret FBI business? Explain why you left me behind like a discarded cum rag after we had sex? Maybe you-”

“Y/N, I had a case, I didn't want to-” You threw another book, but he batted it away this time.

“Can we just talk like adults, please?” He stepped forward and grabbed your wrist just as you reloaded with another book, forcing the tome from your grip in a few seconds.

“The Norton Anthology? Really? You'd bludgeon me to death with that thing.”

“It has some interesting essays on psychoanalysis and literary theory. You should be honoured that I'd even think of throwing it at you.”

He just scowled and sat you down on the couch, following you there to sit next to you.

“Why are you still so frustrated? I thought we moved past this- this resentment?”

For the last few weeks, you'd hoped that Spencer was just clueless about what you were going through. That he'd been swamped with work and hadn't seen your message. But getting the confirmation in real time was winding.

The air was knocked from your lungs, and you had to fight to fill them again, refusing to let yourself be so downright pathetic.

“What resentment did we move past exactly, Spencer? Because I remember the sex, but I do not remember your apology.”

“Why should I apologise?” The sincerity in his voice had your fingers itching to knock his lights off for him.

“Well, gee, for a starter, maybe for finding my address online and showing up to my house uninvited and unannounced.”

“I did announce it. You just blocked my number and email.”

You scoffed and threw yourself back in your chair.

“Number, yes. Email? No. You sent it from an unauthorised network email. All your emails sat in my spam folder until last month.”

He furrowed his brows at the news, but you just crossed your arms and waited for whatever he'd say next to get out of taking responsibility.

“I'm sorry.”

To say you weren't expecting that was an understatement. You felt so uncomfortable with the words you fidgeted in your seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Yes, well…”

Standing, you moved to your desk and grabbed the snacks you'd come here to find, slamming your desk draw shut and keeping the desk between you, sitting in your chair.

“We're working a case.”

“I can tell.”

He leant over the desk and grabbed one of your snacks, opening a cereal bar quickly and taking a bite.

“Three of the students in our faculty have gone missing in the last 30 days.”

You nodded as you listened, but your eyes were on your snack, in his hand, in his mouth. The bastard.

“I need to use the office for a few days. I won't disturb you, but we need some space as a base on campus, and this is our best option.”

“Not afraid I'll walk away with critical documents this time?”

“This time, I have everything memorised. I've read all the documents. You can't ruin the case this time.”

You stood and grabbed your snack from his hand as he lifted it to take another bite, throwing it straight into the trash can.

“What was that for?”

“For being a jerk.”

You stomped over to your bag and pulled out your headphones, putting them on as he attempted to keep talking to you.

“Y/N, you're being immature-”

“You just stole my snack like it's playtime at recess, Spencer. I'm not the immature one.”

You turned the music on as he attempted to talk to you, but you didn't budge or take them off, returning to the couch to lay comfortably once more.

Something about the infuriating, beautiful man had you wanting to act out, reaching new levels of immaturity.

You felt the dip in the couch as he joined you there, felt him waving in front of your face. You smiled at his growing frustration as you heard him raise his voice just slightly.

Then, your legs were pulled out from under you, and you squeaked in shock as Spencer Reid pulled you into his lap, making you straddle him. Your eyes blew open, and you grabbed at his shirt for balance, leaving you open to his attacks as he knocked the headphones off your head.

“You're such a…a..”

“Jackass? Okay, sure, but I'm a jackass you're going to listen to.”

“Make me.”

The words were a dare, a challenge you didn't think he'd rise to. But his hands snaked around your neck, and he pulled your lips down to him, silencing you completely with another angry kiss.

Your lips parted immediately, all too happy to take in his wondering tongue as you battled for dominance. His hands trailed up and down your body, cupping your ass cheeks, squeezing your already sensitive breasts, pushing your skirt up so his hands could roam underneath.

You squirmed in his lap, memories of the last night you'd seen him rushing back. His tongue, his hands, fuck, his cock. Pregnancy hormones or just plain old lust, you wanted it all over again, and you didn't stop to think about it for a second. Any second he was kissing you was a second he wasn't talking.

You ground your hips into his as he worked a finger into your underwear, scraping against your clit as he pulled his head away, burying it in your neck as he began nipping and licking your skin, on a mission to taste every inch of you.

“Spencer,” You gasped as he began rubbing your clit faster, your body providing all the juices he needed to make you feel good.

“Spencer, we should- fuck!” It'd been only minutes, but he'd already pushed you over the edge, and you died your first little death cumming on his fingers.

“We should fuck? Yes, yeah I can get behind that,” he said, laying you down again and slowly pulling down your damp underwear.

“That's not what I was going to say, you bastard,” you said, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss.

“I know, but this is much better, don't you think?” He pulled away and fumbled with his pants, pulling them down only far enough to free his cock before sliding into you. He sheathed Himself inside you, pushing inch by inch until he was at your limit, and then he stopped.

He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your neck and collarbones, he took his time with each spot, making a line down your body, a record of every place he had possessed you without moving an inch.

“Spencer, you can't- need to-” you whined, not minding sounding like a petulant child about to throw a tantrum when he was giving you a pretty great reason to do so.

He had eaten your snacks and now he was just keeping his cock warm inside of you, not even bothering to rub your clit anymore, his hands more focused on keeping his weight up.

“I need to do what, Y/N? Tell me, but be quiet about it. This office isn't soundproof, remember.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

You tried to roll your hips under him, to take the pleasure you needed, but he stopped you, letting his hips press deeper into yours, making himself heavy. You tried another tactic.

“Oh, come on Spencer, you can't even fuck me properly now? Pathetic.’

“Watch it-” he said, but you cut him off again.

“Watch what? You're not doing anything. Maybe I'll ask that little friend of yours outside for some help instead, I'm sure Agent Alvez would be more than happy to-”

A short, soft slap to your face cut your words off as he spoke, the hand that hit you immediately pushing down to your neck and squeezing lightly.

“You're. Mine,” he spat, and started immediately rolling his hips into you quickly.

You wrapped your legs up and around him, your hands lifting to grab his wrist, keeping his hand in place around your throat.

He fucked you harder and your breaths became shallow, eyes locked with his as he panted and writhed above you. He didn't look away. You couldn't. You were drunk on his cock, completely unable to sober up and just waiting for your orgasm to strike you once again.

You weren't two civilised people in that room, but animals, forcing one another to submit, to give in to temptation.

His hand on your throat came loose as he came, chest falling down to yours as he flooded your insides with cum once again. To give him credit where credit was due, he kept his cock inside of you and rubbed your clit again to completion, swallowing your every moan and whimper with a kiss, enjoying the feeling of you convulsing on his cock.

When you were both finally done, he let himself rest on top of you, burying his head in your neck and inhaling your scent as you both dropped back down into reality.

“Get up,” you said first, pushing him up and watching him peel out of you as you reached back to the coffee table for the box of tissues there.

“We need to clean up,” You said attempting to tidy the cum leaking out of you away, as if it were merely a spilt drink.

He sat up, giving his cock a wipe down before putting his clothes back together. You both sat side by side, minding your own business, making yourselves look as inconspicuous as possible and ignoring the elephant in the room.

He broke the silence first.

“The girls, they're all our students. The only thing they share is that they all took both of our courses.”

Your heart dropped as you remembered he wasn't here for you, that he had other jobs and responsibilities. You were merely a pleasurable afterthought.

“Shit,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. You stretched out and stood, sore but still able to make your body work for you.

“You're sure there's nothing else? No clubs, no extra curricular?” His jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together, unsure about how much to tell you.

“They fit a basic profile which tells us the unsub is killing people as a scapegoat and…hasn't got to his intended target yet.”

You nodded as you took in the information, standing and leading yourself back to your desk and grabbing your bag again.

“Look, just… just use the room until you get your guy. I'll work from the library or a study room or something, just…” You ran another hand through your hair, exasperated.

“Y/N, no, we don't need to out you out, we shared the office space before, we can-”

“We can't. Five minutes alone in this room together today proved… that we can't. Don't get distracted.”

You grabbed more books, turning away from him to avoid the guilty looks he was shooting you.

You'd almost collected everything, hesitating as you grabbed your pregnancy vitamins from your draw, stuffing them quickly into your bag before moving closer to the door.

It opened before you could open it, and Emily Prentiss made herself known again.

“Good, you're already packed,” she said, grabbing your bag from your shoulder and slinging it over her own.

“I didn't know you all wanted rid of me so badly,” you said, trying to keep your voice as even and pleasant as possible and greatly failing.

“We don't want to get rid of you. Y/N, I'm afraid it's quite the opposite.”

Your heart slowed to a stop, and your blood ran cold as she offered you a sympathetic glance. You must've stumbled a bit backwards because Spencer's hand was immediately on your lower back, his body curved protectively around you as you too wrapped your arms around yourself, around your baby.

“We've had contact with the killer, and we think you're his intended target,” Emily explained in as even a tone as you'd ever heard someone give a death sentence.

“We've contacted WitSec, but until then, we'll be taking you into protective custody ourselves. I have a spare room, and we'll grab some of your things before you move in, everything you need to feel comfortable. Do you understand?”

“No,” you said, but it wasn't your voice. You felt grateful, though, because you didn't understand. There was someone trying to kill you, and you absolutely didn't understand. You'd just had sex with Spencer Reid again, and you hadn't told him you were pregnant with his child, and nothing made 6 there was someone trying to kill you.

But it wasn't your voice saying no, so you stopped thinking and kistened.

“No, she'll… she'll stay with me,” Spencer said, gripping you tighter and pulling you closer, nearly crushing you in his arms.

“Spencer, it's not up to you,” Emily said, her voice a clear warning even to your buzzing ears.

“Y/N? Y/N, listen to me, please,” he said, gripping your shoulders again and twisting you around so he was all you could see, ducking his head lower so you were directly in his eyeline.

“Y/N, I'll keep you safe. Come and stay with me.”

You thought about his apartment and the message you'd left. You thought about the month you spent waiting for him to call, and the month that you'd spent wanting to rip his throat out. You thought about his hands on your skin, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his cock buried inside of you. You thought, too, about the doctors appointments you'd have to reschedule. You thought about the baby clothes you'd have to leave behind. You thought about how you'd have to hide your morning sickness, and your growing baby bump, and your hormones, and all the supplements recommended by your Doctor because you already loved your baby and you wanted them to be healthy.

You thought that if you went with him, you'd have to tell him and confront whatever decision he made regarding you and the baby.

You thought logically that you shouldn't do it. But his hand grabbed yours, fingers intertwined, and he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand, and you were nodding.

“Yes,” you said when you should've gone with Emily.

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and immediately bundled you out of the office and out of your comfort zone.

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @alondralolll @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @pleasantwitchgarden @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @flipsideoflife @spicyspirit @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @fabulouslynerdy @batrensworld @cattosmush @im-this-girl @sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere @lariclifford @daphnesutton

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert

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wososcripts · 23 hours

Text

Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #my writing #woso community #woso #barca femini x reader #woso imagine #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader

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mxstellatayte · 2 days

Note

hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 days

Note

8. With Hiromi pls

Idk how many asks I can send but I'm checking the free prompt list 🤣🤤

“Your hand feels much better than my own.” --------

You're struggling. Laid back on the bed, desperately rubbing your clit, inserting a finger into your cunt, trying to get yourself off, all expectations fell short. It wasn't working. You whine in need, wondering why it wasn't happening.

A soft cry leaves you. Clearly, you want this. You want an orgasm. But everything just felt off. The length of your fingers simply not long enough. Not thick enough. Your hands too soft instead of the slight calloused feel of his. With a groan of frustration you flop on the bed.

"Fuck!"

"Sweetheart?" You almost yelp and fall off the bed as Hiromi enters, looking puzzled at your state. Naked on your shared bed, nipples perked and body flushed. You try to hide yourself with the blanket.

"No." He joins you on the bed and takes you in his arms. Fully clothed in his suit, while you lay naked added a feeling of vulnerability. Deciding that it was obvious what was happening, you sigh and lean against him.

"It wouldn't come," you whimper to him.

"And why not?" Expertly, his fingers find your clit, still slick from your previous ministrations, and start to pet it, eliciting a gasp from you. He strokes it a few more times before sliding his fingers into you, curling perfectly into the gummy sweet patch inside.

Seeing your reaction, he murmurs teasingly, "Looks like it's coming to me."

You write in sweet pleasure in his arms. “Your hand feels much better than my own," you gasp and he chuckles softly, kissing your temple.

What your own hands failed to do in the last hour, his did in a few minutes, drawing out a strong orgasm that shook your body, making you sob in relief as it gripped you, sending a shock of gratification through your system.

"So good," you mutter, turning into him warmly.

"Just tell me next time silly girl."

#thirst game #thirst prompt #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #higuruma hiromi #higuruma smut #higuruma x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk higuruma #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma fluff #Higuruma x reader smut #ncs #ncs scribbles

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lilacstarx · 1 day

Text

☆ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴜs

↳ Summary: And you will still see it until the end of time, the loss of your life.

↳Genre: Angst/trabble

↳ Gender-neutral Reader

↳Warning: Angst No Comfort, Misunderstanding, Messy/Clean Break Ups, Mixed Signals, Reader Is describe You, mentions of Alcohol, almost getting married, Reader Is left hoping for something, Robin is mentioned (2.2 Spoilers penacony on sunday part)

𝔍𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔜𝔲𝔞𝔫

Finding yourself packing every last piece of your things and essentials that needed to be packed first, is this how it will end?

You burst into tears, just today when Jing Yuan told you that the planned wedding that you two had been working so hard to plan would be cancelled.

"I love you, I really do, but I wish to call off our wedding, my sparrow" You loathed how calm he was, arms crossed, calling you by that dearing name as if it will help the shattering of your broken heart.

"O-of course" palms sweaty, straining to maintain your breath, you wanted to yell or even question why, but you stayed still, stopping yourself from crying in front of the man you once dreamed of marrying. "I'll pack my things."

The memories felt like a broken record repeating itself. You longed to know the reason, but no amount of arguing and problem solving would help. Jing Yuan had already made a decision.

Just like that, you were gone by the morning, leaving nothing in your shared room but the ring that had meant everything laying on the bedside table.

𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔰 ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬

You can't remember how many drinks you had tonight. It's strange that you're not here to celebrate, but rather to drink till the sensation of melancholy fades.

Dreaming is such a foolish thing. You thought it was hilarious how you disliked alcohol, yet here you were alone at a bar a few years earlier; you were an assistant.

To the one and only veritas ratio, a genius, you wished it had stayed that way rather than falling in love with an idiot wearing an alabaster head.

In fact, it was ridiculous how he fell in love with you first and left you "our stage of relationship is going nowhere, im afraid that this is the end and i wish you the best"

Chuckling to yourself, remembering the words he uttered a few days ago, in actuality it was pathetic, and suddenly it was evident what his true goals were.

You're nothing but a victim of his scheming experiments. "Veritas, what have you done to me?" you whine to yourself as you prepare to walk back to your hotel room.

Maybe in your dreams he stayed with you, his arms wrapped around your waist, and read a book to lure you to sleep. Yes, it was less scary that way.

𝔖𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔶

It was no secret that you were the amazing spouse of Sunday, the most handsome man in Penacony, who spoiled you in every aspect.

“My beloved deserves to be spoiled only with the finest of things” Sunday said, tucking a few strands of hair from your ear and wanting to see the pair of earrings he gifted.

Marking you as off limits and only his as if the ring on your finger doesn't make up for it

In truth, you were happy. waltzing at the empty ballroom in a cozy afternoon, asking Sunday to take a break from the mountains of paperworks that kept him occupied due to the upcoming charmony festival

You wished you knew what he was actually feeling at the time.

Now, as you lay on the hospital bed, surrounded by the family nurses and doctors, together with Robin, they were checking on you two.

Looking around expecting to get a sight of Sunday only to be left with a teary-eyed robin by your side explaining that Sunday was out of reach and not even the family knows where he is.

Holding Robin for comfort, "we will find him" you whispered soothingly, thinking how Sunday believed leaving you safe and stranded was a better option.

#ᗯiᒪᒪoᗯ #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x gender neutral reader #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #sunday x reader #sunday oak #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #part two with there povs??#jing yuan x reader

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thir10th · 2 days

Text

The getaway pt.2 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES

summary: it's your first morning on vacation and you decide to go for a swim! tw: where do I start. Smut. Toxic masculinity. Oral sex. Fingering. Emily going from possessive to completely in love w you in like two seconds. Shower sex. Idk lmk if I miss something! a/n: I've gotten a lot of positive feedback on the first chapter which i LOVE, thank y'all who comment, it really helps!

You stare at your reflection on the mirror while you spread some sunscreen on your face, paying special attention to your cheeks and nose. You throw your coverup over you, the thin cloth serves it's purpose to take you from your room to the pool.

"Em! are you almost ready?" you shout at her from the bathroom, but she doesn't answer, so you come out to see what she's been doing instead of getting ready how you had specifically asked her.

"oh, c'mon, really?" you say when you see Emily, sitting on the edge of the bed, checking her phone.

"I'm just checking if we had any messages! That's all, I promise" she says raising her hands, trying to defend herself.

"Emily, please stop worrying, go inside there, put on whatever allows you to sit on a sunbed, and get your ass here so we can actually start our vacation" you say, grabbing her hands and pulling her to stand up, you take the phone off her hands and leave it on the bed.

"ok, you know what? you're right, I'll be back in a second" she says, depositing a soft kiss to your lips, and rushing to the bathroom.

You walk up to the balcony to check if the pool is too crowded.

"Em, it's perfect! I just eyed a spot with our name written on it, it's right next to the bar and far enough from the pool ledge to avoid noise" you yap in a louder voice for her to hear you.

"what? I can't hear you, hey have you seen my shirt?" she says, coming out of the bathroom looking for it while you're still concentrated on the view out the window.

When you turn around, the sight is one for sore eyes. Emily stands there, looking around the bedroom floor absentmindedly "oh- wow" it's all you can manage, mouth dropped.

Her eyebrows lift as she looks up at you, a cocky smile spreading on her lips in amusement when she sees you slack-jawed, frozen in place "like what you see?" her stubborn ass won't ever pass up an opportunity to tease you.

In four large steps you're standing next to her, your fingers tracing the low waistband of her low bikini bottoms.

You nod "This is why i go to work everyday" she scoffs, and you lower your head, connecting your lips with the tender skin of her neck, kissing her there she breathes out at the slow contact, then grabbing your hips and pulling you away from her in a quick motion.

"Hey!" You whine at the loss of contact.

"You said it, c'mon, the sun awaits" she scolds you with a cheeky smile.

"We are on vacation! Can't we just fuck and then go later?" you complain, already knowing the answer.

"No, c'mon, chop chop" she says, throwing her coverup over her shoulders and grabbing her bag. Well, two can play that game.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

When you get to the pool, you take exactly the same seat you had previously devised from your room. Emily places the towels on top of the lounge beds, and sits on hers.

She shoots you a threatening look behind her sunglasses when she sees you sitting beside her just the same.

"hey, need sunscreen?" she asks, holding the bottle up.

"Em, you just want me to take my clothes off and rub stuff on my body" you remark.

"so what if i do? C'mon, take that shit off" she says sitting upright, encouraging you.

"fine" You oblige, stripping off the flowy, white button up cover up.

"Hell, love, if i had seen this i would've taken your suggestion of staying in" she says, biting her lip, her eyes run up and down your body.

"focus, you offered sunscreen remember?" you say, snapping your fingers at her, and turn your back so you're laying flat on your stomach all along the surprisingly comfortable lounge chair, specially in that position.

With your eyes closed, you hear Emily squeezing the sunscreen bottle into her hands.

She starts by rubbing the back of your legs, applying just the right pressure on your calves, massaging the tense muscles.

She takes some more sunscreen, rubs it in her hands, and then moves to get your shoulders. Her skilled fingers massage all the way down to your shoulder blades.

You let a moan escape your lips from the soft pressure on your lower back, she squeezes your hips just hard enough, and chuckles when you let out another sound in pleassure.

"Baby, you're making a scene" she warns you, but you couldn't care any less, not when her touch moves back to your legs, this time to get your thighs.

Her fingers move dangerously up. Her fingers sink on your skin, you can feel her hands moving further up as she keeps working on your muscles.

You let out a louder whine when her fingers bruise where your thighs meet the curve of your ass. Your small bikini bottoms doesn't leve too much the imagination, so lucky for you, she doesn't find any other way of protection when she massages your ass.

You feel so relaxed agains her soft strokes, and the way her fingers sink into your flesh. You barely remember how she might just be taking a bit longer than this process should.

"If you keep that up you will see me making a scene so i suggest you stop what you're doing, or i will get kicked out for public indecency" you whisper to her when her face gets close enough to yours again.

She surprisingly obeys, and leaves you with one last pat.

"ok, all done" she concludes, and sits back in her lounge chair.

"c'mon, your turn" you say, taking her but surprise, but she doesn't complain, she simply smiles and turns around like you had just done.

Damn, you think, if this is what is going to be for the whole weekend, m¡we may not be able to leave that hotel room at all, we need to cool off.

A sudden squeaky sound takes you out of your thoughts, right before you can pick up the sunscreen bottle.

One of those pool rubber balls lands right next to you, and you grab it, turning around to see where it came from.

A group of shirtless guys looks at you from the pool, one of them raises his arms, trying to get your attention "ball help?" he yells.

You walk to them, and hand him the ball, you would've thrown it, but those kind of plastic ones are a bit unpredictable, and you wouldn't want to run for the ball again.

"thanks, hey, can I buy you a drink?" the guy says, he brushes his hair out of his face, so clear to you that he is flexing his arm as he does.

"ugh, no, thanks" you say, trying to be polite, bbut he doesn't seem to take a no for an answer.

"c'mon, how can i pay you back?" he says with a side smile that you wonder if it has ever worked before for him.

"look, man, we're just trying to have a nice time, alright?" you try to keep your cool as much as you can, but this guy really doesn't seem to get the message.

"oh, you having a nice time really is all i want" you fins the comment repulsive, as he raises his brow to you, his friends around him listening, encouraging his words.

"hey, something wrong here?" you hadn't heard Emily come over to where you are, she places her hand on your lower back in a protective gesture.

"oh, nothing around we're just hanging out" he explains. "c'mon baby, you bring your friend with you?" the audacity takes you by surprise.

"friend?" Emily repeats, her hand gripping your waist harder, you know she's about to do something she will later regret, so you decide to take care of it for your sake.

"Ok, you know what? let's do it, swim race, you and me, if you win, you can buy us drinks, if i win, you leave us the hell alone, for real, alright?" his friends encourage him, he smiles at me with a triumphant smile, he brushes his hair trying to flex his arm muscles once again, this time a bit harder. You hear Emily scoff right behind you.

"I like it, I'll let you ten extra seconds just to keep it even" the masculinity display is making you gag.

"oh, no need" Emily gives your waist one last squeeze, before walking away to leave you space to maneuver.

"oh, I wanna see this" she mutters only for you to hear.

As the boy gets out of the pool to take his side next to you, you think back to your academy years. Being a swimmer in high school had helped you through all the physically demanding fitness tests, you remind yourself all the times you had exceeded the water rescue tests, plus, you really liked it.

One of his friends does the countdown, and without thinking too much about it, you throw yourself headfirst in the water.

You aren't thinking too hard about it, you just get to it, and swim. You swim fast. When you reach the end of the pool, you turn in a fast and fluid motion that he doesn't expect, and is definitely not ready for nor he can replicate, which takes him a couple extra seconds to recover.

When you reach the finish line, and you get your head oout of the water, you realized you had dragged the attention from more than one at the pool.

Most importantly, you realize he has lost.

Some people do a little cheer, and his group of friends opt to laugh defeatedly.

You search for your girlfriend, standing right on the pool ledge where you had left her, a proud look and a triumphant smile on her face.

"sorry, guys, maybe another time, or never" she says, waving them away with her hand.

You climb up the ladder to get out, and walk up to her with your arms open. She grabs your face with both your hands to pull you in, crashing her lips against yours in a fervent kiss, your hands grip her waist.

Their eyes burn in your back, you can feel them staring, you could've just started by doing this, and it would've been enough probably, but what was the fun in that?

Emily still kisses you, you can feel her desperation on your mouth, she pours all her feelings in the kiss, and you can only hope that group of assholes is still watching.

When she finally pulls away, her hands softly move away a couple of wet strands of your hair, and her fingers trace your lips sweetly.

"you know, that was amazing" she says, both of you in your own little world like usual.

"Oh yeah, well, no problem" you say in a husky voice, playing it down.

"And do you have any idea how sexy that was, and how badly i want you right now?" she growls.

Your blood rumbles in your ears, the adrenaline from the race still running through your system, and the effect of your girlfriend's hands all over your body still resonating on your skin. You peck her lips, grab her hand, and walk with her to leave the pool, and find your way back to your room.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily inserts the card on the lock of the door, the green light flickers and she pushes the door open with a loud thud.

She aggressively pushes your hips agains the door to close it. You feel a subtle pain on your lower back which turns quickly into heat, as she grabs your thigh with her hand, making you jump to pick you up and push you again agains the door.

This new position allowing her a great access to your neck, she nibbles at the soft skin, licks up and mouths the slope, your soft skin will probably show deep purple marks tomorrow, nothing you could care remotely about right now,

Not when Emily's hand grabs a handful of your ass, and takes you in her arms to bed, tossing you in the middle of the mattress.

She walks away from you, you whine at the lost proximity, she just snaps the do not disturb sign on the outside door handle, and locks it again.

You're breathing uncontrollably when she gets to you, she's still wearing her two piece, the small black fabric barely covers her, and you notice how one of her nipples is basically out, caused by your harsh entrance.

You eye it, and holding her hands, you try to attract her body to yours so you can get her breast in your mouth, but Emily has other plans.

"What was that there baby? What happened to the let it slide, and the easy, Prentiss?" You're at a loss for words, the softness of your voice only makes your heart beat faster, your arousal growing with every touch of hers.

She loops her fingers in the waistband of your bikini bottoms and drags them down your legs. “You didn't just shush him, you crushed him" she kisses your stomach, brushes her lips teasingly over your hipbone.

"Em, please" you whine, breathing loudly.

"please what, honey? c'mon, cat got your tongue? You had a lot of say before, what happened to that?" her hands run through your inner thighs, and avoids getting anywhere near where you actually want her.

She knocks your feet apart, the motion taking a loud gasp out of you.

"keep them open, or I'll tie them open" she threatens.

You're dripping, damn near glistening, and she cups your center, feeling the arousal in her palm, your hips buck at the sudden contact, but you keep your volume in check.

"Good girl" the softness of the petname makes you moan loudly "ssh, it's ok baby" you purr and she enjoys watching the shiver in your muscles.

She kneels in front of your opened legs, her hands still caressing your inner thighs. Your sounds drive her crazy, god she loves to have you like this.

She slithers further down, spreading your folds. "Goddamnit please, Em, do something" you whine.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She sinks between your spread thighs, fingers curling and tongue on your clit to soothe the overly sensitive bud.

"Right there love. Oh- that feels so good" you encourage her.

You know how much she loves when you ask nicely, if the situation was different, if you couldn't already feel the muscles on your abdomen clenching, then maybe you would try to tease her too. Not right now, now you need to come now, maybe later you can think about something else.

She adds a little more pressure to her fingers and tongue, and you moan her name, reaching your climax as you arch off the bed.

You open your eyes, coming down from your orgasm, to meet Emily's face close to yours, her gaze softens when your smile meets hers.

"hey, ok?" she asks, checking up on you.

"perfect, but my hair is still wet, and i need a shower" you nod.

"ok, easy, hold on to me" she says, holding your arm, allowing you to deposit all your weight onto her.

The bathroom is big and spacious, the shower head has different modes to set what kind of stream you want. Emily opens it and the warm water falls creating something similar to a heavy rain.

As you stand next to her, you notice how she's still dressed, if that small bikini could count as dressed.

You surround her with your arms, untying the knot of the top from the back, pulling the string you let it fall to the ground, and you kneel to take the bottoms off.

She holds to your shoulders with both hands, and takes her legs out of the small fabric one by one. You observe her from that angle, she looks down at you, she always looks pretty, but in the comfort of your shared intimacy, you could swear she was shinning.

She pulls you uo by your hand, and you both get under the shower water, the stream wide enough to fit both of you.

You shoot a look at her pebbled nipples, feeling almost hypnotized by the way her hair starts to fall over her shoulders, you connect your lips with hers again.

Her mouth welcomes you, letting you win in the fight for dominance, you kiss your way down to her neck, making sure to lick and suck on the most sensitive area that you know drives her crazy.

You kiss all the way around her collarbones, and she moans at the feeling of your hands and lips on her.

She takes all her strength on her to let out a breathless chuckle and encourage your intentions.

"C'mon baby, you got me all worked up already" she says on her low signature sex voice that she knows drives you crazy.

"Let me take care of you, Em" you whisper to her ear, one of your hands move up to play with her breast, you tug the bud between your fingers, squeezing and caressing,

You find her clit immediately, which makes her gasp.

She rocks her hips against you, you know when and how to stroke or circle or flick. You know exactly how much pressure drives her crazy. You already know how to play her body the way she likes it, and she knows you know, so she bucks against your fingers, wanting more of you.

The onslaught of her clit has been nearly constant since you stuck your hand there, she can feel her abdomen muscles clenching, and you play her just the way she needs to get her to her release.

You crash your lips against hers, swallowing up her moans, and you flick her clit repeatedly until she comes undone in your arms.

You wait for her to catch her breath. You both do, you kiss every square inch of skin you can find, her neck, her face, her nose, her chest...

"You destroying those guys is an image that will follow me for a long time" she presses your lips in a sloppy kiss "and i couldn't be happier".

Emily takes her time to massage your scalp, trying to get all the chlorine off your hair. When you both start feeling cold despite the water being warm, you decide it's time to get out.

Emily steps out of the shower, grabbing one of the fluffy and soft bathrobes hanging on the wall and putting it on.

You observe her naked figure from the shower, her slightly muscular back moving along with every step she took, and her long legs have you practically drooling. God, she is too perfect,

She comes back to you, opening her arms and holding the bathrobe open for you to slip in. She ties the knot closing it, and wraps you in her arms on a warm hug.

She holds your waist, and rests her head on your shoulder.

"Em, it's lunchtime already, we should get going" you say, moving away a strand of wet hair falling over her face, and kissing her scalp.

"Just one minute. You feel so warm like this"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Ok, sorry I kept you waiting, i hope it was worth it and this isn't shit!

Yes, this is a direct reference to that one Station 19 scene.

Also, I was a swimmer in high school, so i projected a little, i'm literally just a girl <3

Like and reblog. Feedback is greatly appreciated <333

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hyukalyptus · 21 hours

Note

heyy could u do smthing like txt reactions to u using the safe word while at it????

omg of course!! i love this idea sm.

cw. use of safe word, all of them stop ofc, sex, rough bdsm stuff is not mentioned, soob is big and clumsy and reader likes pushing limits, gyu uses red/green/yellow system and likes pushing limits, pet names (baby), aftercare, tae's kinda vanilla and feels guilty, kai is kinky asf (but that's not discussed here; go check out lia's duality for that lol), cuddling, kissing.

smut(?) under cut!

yeonjun - omg honestly i think he’d be the absolute sweetest. stops in his tracks, lifts his hands off you, but stays inside you to wait for further instruction. doesn't apologize because you've ask him not to in the past (makes you feel guilty) and he's worked so hard to make sure you feel safe with him and that you're not hesitant using the safe word. he's so proud (but doesn't show it) that you feel safe enough to use the safe word with him. "what did i do? what can i do to make it better?” doesn't touch you until you say its okay. once you've caught your breath and have calmed down, he very cautiously and with your permission picks things back up, finishing you, but he doesn't finish himself. he can get off later.

soobin - he's the one that insisted on creating a safe word in the first place. he knows he can sometimes be just a bit too clumsy and a bit too big that he doesn't know if he's hurting his sex partners or if they're just playing into it. so he learned quickly that he needs to establish a safe word every time, especially since you like pushing the limits. things start getting a little too hot and heavy for your liking and he's getting a little too carried away. it feels so good at first, until he takes it just a bit too far. typically, you're usually comfortable enough to ease him down with body language and talking, but something was off today and you needed it to stop. he comes to a slow stop, relaxing his hands, loosening his grip on you and turning them into soothing strokes and caresses. asking and giving exactly what you need.

beomgyu - first of all, i see him as the type to use the red, yellow, green system. and can definitely see him pushing you into yellow a lot. and he loves it (as do you), but he's cautious. the second you say red, he drops everything. "was that too much for my baby? i'm sorry..." going to get you some water and sitting down to have an in-depth conversation about what was too far. "did you like the idea of it and i just went too far? did you want to try it again but slower? was what i did completely out of the question now? what can i do to make you feel safer next time? do you feel safe right now?" turns into soft and slow aftercare that eventually warms up to slow and sensual sex to make up for it.

taehyun - i think feels the most guilty out of them. he doesn't strike me as the kinda guy to be super into kink stuff, so i think he almost doesnt know how to handle it other than apologizing. asks a lot of questions, like, "are you okay? you sure? do you want me to finish you? i'd be happy to if you like." and you agreeing that you'd still like to come as long as he still wants to and is comfortable to keep going but as soon as he's inside you, "are you sure you're okay if i finish too?" maybe becomes a bit too nervous before both of you agree its better for both of you to stop completely and cuddle the rest of the night.

hueningkai - honestly i feel like kai's kinky asf and i will not be silenced any longer. he talks a lot about it with you beforehand anyway, so its rare that you (or any of his partners) get to that point because he knows all ur limits and how to push them and how to not push them too far. so you saying it is a bit of a shock, but he knows exactly what to do. drops everything, slides out of you, asks what you need from him. and when you request cuddles, he's the biggest cuddle bug ever. cheek kisses, whispers in ur ear about how perfect and beautiful you are. dragging his nails down ur arm. omfg i love him.

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doomhands-jr · 3 days

Text

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 5

Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Rough sex, NoahxOFC, slight degradation, religious trauma Masterlist

______

Early November was among your least favorite times of the year. It wasn’t yet cold enough to snow, but the rain was frigid. Halloween excitement had worn off and there wasn’t much to look forward to until Christmas (Thanksgiving was fine, you supposed, but you were staying on campus while your parents were on a missions trip to Africa).

Your socks had gotten wet on the walk to the worship center. You loathed wet socks, even partially wet socks. They stuck to your toes in the most uncomfortable way, freezing them while the rest of your foot stayed dry. Any time your socks got wet, you’d hyper-focus on the sensation until they either dried out or you changed them, and since you were obligated to spend the morning overseeing community service, they were about to be all you could think about for the next four hours.

All you could think about, that is, until you happened to glance up and spy Noah slouched on a bench near the church entrance. You stopped short, double-checking the time on your phone. 7:46. It was unlike him to be early, let alone fourteen minutes early.

He hadn’t noticed you approach, too busy staring at his lap. He fidgeted with an object in his hands—something you couldn’t see. You took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and continued walking.

The day after Halloween, you made a pact with yourself: you would get over Noah Davis. It wasn’t because he was a bad guy or anything. You actually quite liked him and found him to be an overall positive influence.

The problem was that he was too much of an influence. You found yourself second-guessing your morals, wanting to agree with him before you’d fully thought everything through. You wanted to believe everything he said, regardless of whether or not it was true. And you knew it was partly because you wanted so badly to give into his temptation.

Not that giving into temptation was necessarily bad. But you’d grown up listening to and believing everything the men in your life had told you, simply because they were in positions of authority. That hadn’t exactly worked out in your best interests.

Were you going to let another man influence your beliefs just because it would justify chasing the things your body craved? And oh, did it crave.

That wasn’t to say Noah didn’t make a lot of very good points - you were inclined to agree with them, but you had to sort that out slowly and on your own. Without the influence of him or his body pulling you in any one direction.

On top of that, it was inappropriate of you to entertain feelings for him—you were in a supervisor role.

The full truth was that letting go of the idea of him? It hurt. Giving up something you really wanted for something you thought would be better for you in the long run was never easy. But you were determined to do it. God had something better in store for you, you were certain of it. And Noah’s body was simply a distraction—a pitfall for you to avoid.

And who knew? Perhaps you were doing Noah a favor as well, not giving into him so easily.

The moment Noah noticed you, he stood up, straightening the legs of his jeans. You kept him in your periphery but didn’t look directly at him. Looking at him was too hard. You didn’t want him to know that though, so you did your best to be friendly. “Hey,” you said, greeting him with a friendly wave and glance, noticing your voice came out meeker than you intended.

“Hey,” he replied, and his voice carried a soft, hollow timbre that already had your heart squeezing. This was going to be more difficult than you thought.

You kept your eyes on the ground, allowing him to fall into step beside you, and headed straight for the church doors. Pulling out the key and unlocking them gave you something to focus on that wasn’t him, and for that you were grateful.

“How was your week?” he asked.

“Good. Boring,” you said, eyes scanning along the light blue carpet in front of you as you walked through the foyer. “Yours?”

“Enlightening.”

Enlightening. How were you supposed to ignore that?

“Oh?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. You still held firm in not looking at him, one glance at his soft smile and your resolve would crumble. You knew it.

And then, in an attempt to seem normal, you glanced. Not directly at him, but in his direction. Enough to catch the soft smile on his face and knowing kindness in his dark eyes. The way his long hair spilled out from underneath his hood.

You dug your nails into your fists as punishment and looked back down at the floor, where your feet guided you to the supply closet at the end of the hall.

“I think I owe you an apology for how I behaved on Saturday,” he said. He stopped in front of the closet and turned to face you head-on. It was getting harder to avoid direct eye contact.

He remained silent, providing you an opportunity to respond, but you couldn’t will your mouth to open and instead settled on offering a quick nod.

“I should have warned you about the crowds. And about the content for some of the music we play... And for agreeing to play that last song.”

“Noah, the whole crowd wanted it,” you reasoned, fiddling with the latch on the supply closet. “I’m just one person.”

“Just,” he interjected, holding a hand up, “let me at least apologize for the way it affected you.”

The tension in your shoulders slackened infinitesimally and you allowed your eyes to travel to his inked hands. His fingers were so long. It ached, how much you wanted to gravitate toward them, feel them caress your face, envelop his thumb in your mouth and have him drag it down your chin…

Catching yourself mid-thought, you looked away again. “I suppose I can allow that.”

He puffed out a short breath, relieved at your acceptance. “It wasn’t cool of me to let you go into that unprepared,” he continued, voice filled with genuine regret. “I wish I would have handled it better.”

You chewed on the outer corner of your lip. The sentiment felt too heavy for the moment, and you needed to end the conversation quickly. “Thank you for saying that.”

“I also want to apologize for what happened after.”

Your stomach dropped. You’d really rather not talk about that. It wasn’t exactly your proudest moment. You’d fully embarrassed yourself with your overreaction to what happened at the party. But more than that, you’d experienced genuine temptation for the first time in your life, and had only barely made it out of there without completely walking back on all your scruples. Even talking about it meant risking being pulled back down the rabbit hole he was about to apologize for. Either way, you couldn’t help it when, in a moment of weakness, you glanced at his mouth. His smile faded and something more earnest took over his face. His lips parted a millimeter as he sucked a breath in through his teeth and you found yourself mimicking the movement without trying.

“If your beliefs surrounding…” he took another deep breath as he searched for the right word, “…physical intimacy are important to you, I want to do a better job of respecting that. From now on, I’ll be hands-off.” He raised his palms in surrender.

His words wrapped around your body like a rope, compressing, crushing your ribs, and holding you together.

Last summer, when Isaac had ended your kiss, it didn’t surprise you. In fact, it was something you had almost expected him to do. He performed Christianity like it was a Broadway show and he was the principal actor. It was almost a game to him, it seemed. How many points could he earn with God during his time on Earth? How big of a mansion would he be rewarded with in Heaven? How many virgin brides?

You smelled a hint of Isaac’s performance in Noah. But there was something else there underneath. An eagerness to respect you in the way that actually mattered. He wanted to get it right.

“Noah,” you sighed, feeling like he was perhaps taking this apology thing further than he needed to.

“I also want to give you this back,” he said, fishing out your silver ring from his back pocket and holding it out to you. “I’m sorry for removing it in the first place.”

You stared at the silver ring. The symbol of the promise you’d made when you were thirteen and had no idea how anything worked.

Now, for you, it symbolized a lie that had been spoon-fed to you. It symbolized blind obedience to the men in your life and a life you had no control over.

You deflated.

“Keep it.”

Noah’s eyebrows lifted, lips parting in surprise and confusion. “Why?”

You looked anywhere but the ring in front of you, settling on a speck of lint that dusted the shoulder of Noah’s zip-up.

“I just don’t want it anymore. It feels too constricting.”

Huffing, he stepped forward and grabbed your left wrist, bringing it to his hand. His touch sent warmth cascading down your arm and into the rest of your body.

Slowly, delicately, he slid the ring back onto your finger. The cold metal contrasted starkly with the warmth of his palm. His hand lingered there for a moment, thumb swiping the length of your finger.

It felt oddly reminiscent of a proposal, but in reverse. With this ring, he promised to leave you alone.

Something harsh and sour coated the back of your throat and you swallowed bitterly.

“I want you to have it back anyway,” he said, voice gentle and kind as he let go of your wrist. “If you want to remove it again, that should be your choice.”

You rolled your eyes, twisting the ring back off your finger and holding it out to him in your palm. “I don’t want the responsibility of keeping this. Can you please take it?”

He stepped back from you, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Ugh,” you scoffed and tossed it in the empty mop bucket in the corner of the supply closet, willing it to disappear. You turned back to face him with your hands on your hips. “You know you’re being a little dramatic about this, right?”

Your eyes flicked back up to his face. He looked from you, to the bucket, and back, but stayed silent.

“I allowed you to take it off because I wanted you to, not because I was under some sort of spell. Plus, I should be apologizing for how I left.”

Noah closed his eyes and shook his head firmly. “No way, don’t ever feel bad for setting boundaries. I’m actually glad you left when you felt uncomfortable instead of letting me pressure you into something you didn’t want.”

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. This much respect was new for you—not just from Noah, but from any man in your life.

“I still feel bad,” you confessed, twisting your hands together in front of you.

“Please don’t,” he said, arm reaching out a few inches as if he intended to touch you, but then he thought better of it and pulled back. Your eyes chased his hand as it fell back to his side, wishing he would have followed through. “I was in the wrong, not you.”

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

A smile played on the corner of his lips. “I suppose you could say I’m turning over a new leaf.”

Inside, you smiled at the throwback to the conversation last month. Outwardly you pouted, rocking on your heels. “I liked the old leaf.”

“Tough,” he said, grinning defiantly. “Get used to this one.”

You crossed your arms and nodded over to the supply closet. “Well, can the new leaf go grab the broom and dustpan so he can get to work?”

“At your service, Angel,” he said, sidestepping you to get into to the closet.

“Angel?” you asked. “What happened to Mary?”

“Mary’s too boring,” he called over his shoulder, digging around the various mops and cleaners. “I like Angel better.”

“Can’t you just use my real name?” you asked.

“No,” he said reemerging from the closet with two brooms and two dustpans in tow. He smiled his full Cheshire-cat grin, lips stretching wide over his too-big teeth in a way that let you know he already won whatever debate you were about to start.

You decided not to press the matter. You also preferred Angel to Mary. At least it didn’t have the virgin connotation.

You waved him off. “Whatever. Just get to work.”

Noah winked and did just that, keeping his head down and minding his business until Nick showed up, six minutes late.

“What are we doing today, boss?” he asked. You pointed over to where Noah was sweeping.

“Aye, aye!” he said with a salute and started toward Noah.

“Actually can you hang back a second?” you said in a low voice. He paused mid-step, turning on his heel and leaning in with his full attention. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He sighed, eyes dropping to the floor. “Look. I know it wasn’t cool of me to sleep with your friend, but you should know—,”

“—I was actually going to thank you,” you cut him off. Nick’s brows pulled together.

“What?” he asked, mouth parting stupidly.

You nodded, fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater. “She told me about how nervous she was, about how patient you were with her and how you walked her through the process, and that you insisted on making sure she was sober enough to give consent. Not all guys would do that for a girl they just met. Let alone someone whose first time it was.”

Nick blinked, then released the tension he’d been holding in his jaw, allowing his face to relax into a smile. “Of course. I’m not an asshole. Or, well at least not a complete asshole.”

You chuckled, signaling with your hand for him to join you while you meandered over to the other end of the foyer where Noah was working. “Ava can be pretty reckless at times,” you said, lowering your voice now that Noah was within earshot. “She gets in over her head. I appreciate that she had someone like you who prioritized her comfort and safety.”

“She’s not bad. You have good taste in friends.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling fondly at the moment of shared appreciation for your friend.

“Now get to work,” you said, when the air got too thick. The last thing you needed was to allow Nick to burrow his way into your heart alongside his friend.

The workday passed by relatively easy. There were no major philosophical conversations to be had, and no interruptions from unwelcome strangers. The two men worked diligently for the whole session, and when it was time to go, they put their own supplies away.

“Hey,” said Noah while you all made your way out. “I was thinking about something.” He slowed his steps and allowed Nick to pass the two of you.

“Yeah?” you said, matching his pace.

“You’ve seen me in my element. I thought it was only fair if I returned the favor.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I want to hear you sing.” He said it softly, lisp coming out on the last word and oh. You paused mid-stride to turn to him.

“Why?”

Noah looked at you as if you’d offended his bloodline, head rearing back in a scoff. “Because I’m curious? And I want to support you the way you supported me?”

“That’s not necessary,” you rushed to assure. The last thing you wanted was to have to perform in front of him. That was a level of vulnerability you weren’t interested in. Especially since he had such an extensive background in music and could easily judge you if you weren’t up to his standards.

“Will you let me do something nice, please?” he said, holding his arms out to the side before letting them drop back to his hips with a slap. “Isn’t the point of this entire community service thing to help me be a better person?”

He’d seen the corner he could back you into before you did. You couldn’t, in good faith, protest something like that without letting your cards show.

“I have a showcase coming up in December,” you said. “Here. At the church.”

Noah tucked his lips between his teeth and smiled in triumph.

“Are you sure you won’t burst into flames the second you step foot in a worship service?” you asked.

“Guess we’ll see,” He said, with a quick shrug of his shoulders. You continued walking down the path leading back into town.

“Isaac’s going to be there,” you said, reluctantly. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he assured you, making the sign of the cross over his chest and clapping his hands together in prayer.

You sighed and shook your head. “Good. See that you are.” Without anything better to say, you followed up with “now get out of here.”

Noah huffed out a laugh at your attempt at standoffishness and jogged to catch up with Nick. Your gut twisted at the thought of him coming to watch you sing. Even more so at the idea of the regular churchgoers seeing and potentially interacting with him, but you chose to trust that this would be a good thing. That Noah would keep his word.

Noah in a church. Standing in the middle of a church-going audience. You shook your head, unable to realistically picture it, but that didn’t stop a grin from sneaking up on you whenever you thought about it.

_______

November came and went in the same way a cloud would—slowly, and easily unnoticed unless you paid special attention.

You and Isaac continued to work together on his project. He brought up passing a collection plate around during the event so the two of you could raise money for charity, which you thought was a great idea.

“That way, we can give back a little,” he said, pinching the cross charm he wore around his neck between two of his fingers and sliding back and forth along its chain.

“I’d love that,” you said, feeling more energized about the showcase.

You and Isaac sat across from each other at a table in a room off to the side of the main worship area, often used for small group meetings, Bible studies, and Sunday School. Song books and sheets of music littered the table, musty from years of use. You sat doodling swirls in the margins of the notebook in front of you.

“How have we been marketing the event?” he asked, flipping through pages of a hymn book.

“I made an event page on Facebook,” you said, “and have been posting about it to the campus Facebook page. A few other local groups, too.”

“Good,” he said, nodding, but not looking up from the book in front of him.

“I’ve also been passing out flyers and posting them around campus to drum up some excitement.”

“Excellent,” said Isaac, smiling.

Surprisingly enough, working with Isaac hadn’t been as painful as you’d expected. He remained focused on planning out the logistics of the showcase, appropriately delegating tasks to you as needed, but taking on the bulk of the work himself.

You liked this Isaac. He was at his best when he had a goal and worked diligently to achieve it. When you’d first developed an interest in him, it was when he was pursuing a leadership role on the worship team. Before then, he’d always been a scrawny, nerdy kid that existed only in the fringes of your memory. You’d seen him in church and at school but hadn’t paid much attention to him.

It wasn’t until your teen years, when he’d grown his hair out and started learning how to play guitar that you’d truly noticed. One day, he’d asked to perform a song in front of the congregation. You couldn’t even remember the song, but you remembered being transfixed by his singing.

That was the beginning of the crush you’d been nursing for over four years. It had largely dissipated, but it still peeked out every once in a while, in moments like this.

He closed the book in his hands, setting it down on the table and straightening out some of the papers in front of him. “How’s the community service going?” he asked without looking at you.

Your warm feelings for him slipped away just as quickly and easily as they had arrived.

Tension flared in your neck, pulling your shoulders up to a defensive position. Aside from that telltale sign, however, you chose to play it cool.

“It’s fine,” you said, joining him in arranging the stack of music sheets in front of you so you had something to focus on aside from him.

“You better get a move on,” he said, setting his stack of papers aside and resting his elbows on the table. He spoke directly to you. “You only have a month left before you never see them again. Not a lot of time to bring people to Christ.”

Truthfully, you’d forgotten all about that. He was right—the job had been handed to you with the specific instructions towitness to these men, but you were starting to think you no longer agreed with that cause.

“Did you talk about Hell?” he continued. “That sometimes works for me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?” he asked, brows furrowing with confusion. “You have to do something. Their souls are on the line.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this,” you snapped, shifting your chair back from the table and standing. You had some homework you should be getting to, anyway. “Can we drop it?”

“No!” he barked, standing up to be on your level. He splayed his palms on the table, leaning his weight on them and eyes boring a hole into you. Even from across the table, his height was menacing. Not as tall as Noah, but definitely tall. “That’s the whole point of you being there. You have to make sure they know what’s at stake if they keep going down the path they’re on.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said, voice raising in volume.

All this talk of eternal damnation set you on edge. You still hadn’t even figured out where you stood on the issue. How were you supposed to preach to someone who had made up their mind long ago? And who was Isaac to tell you how to talk to them when he’d only briefly encountered them once and made a fool out of himself in the process?

“What’s complicated about it? They repent or they go to Hell,” he stated with a huff, blowing his fringe bangs out of his eyes.

The pressure he was putting on you was familiar—much like the pressure your father had always put on you to “go out and make disciples” but things weren’t as black-and-white as they were when you were a child.

How were you supposed to preach something you weren’t even sure you understood or believed in? Blindly giving into the pressure to convert as many people as you could to a faith you only half-trusted felt more and more like a betrayal of yourself.

Not only that, but in your experience, people simply did not want to hear the gospel preached at them. You’d tried once—when you’d joined a local theater production of Fiddler on the Roof as a stagehand. There was one girl there who you’d made fast friends with—Stephanie.

You spent all summer trying to share the Good News with her. At the end of three long months, she agreed to accept Christ into her heart, allowing you to lead her in The Prayer. It was the defining moment of your adolescence. You’d managed to validate your existence by saving at least one soul.

It wasn’t until the wrap party later that week that you overheard her making fun of you to some of the other cast members, all huddled together in a corner of the theater, that you realized she’d gone through with it as a joke.

There was no explaining that to Isaac, however. He was so caught up in everything he’d been taught that it would take much longer than you had time to explain everything, and that was if he even listened, which he didn’t seem interested in…

…much like the people you were supposed to evangelize to.

“I have to go,” you said, turning on your heel and walking out of the warmth of the worship center, into the frigid rain. Isaac called after you, but you broke into a jog, heading—well, somewhere.

You didn’t know where you were heading, actually. Your rain boots clunked haphazardly on the sidewalk, splashing through puddles as you ran. You contemplated going back to your dorm, but knew Stevie was home. It didn’t seem like the place to be.

You weren’t interested in any of the usual places on campus, either. The wind and rain bit at your skin, chilling you through the oversized Sherpa-lined hoodie you’d worn.

Your feet guided you to the crossroads that would lead you back to campus, and you turned in the opposite direction, running headlong toward town.

Your breaths grew uneven, whether it was due to the energy you were expending, or the crushing weight of your religious obligations.

You were supposed to lead these men to God, lest their souls be cast into Hell for eternity.

Except, did you believe in Hell anymore?

You weren’t sure. You supposed it could exist, but was it really that easy to wind up serving a permanent sentence for an impermanent crime? For simply getting the theology wrong?

That didn’t seem like something a loving god would do. And if it was, did you really want to devote your life to serving someone like that? Someone who could be so utterly cruel to his creations for making simple mistakes?

You were angry. For the first time, you felt a glimpse of the anger Noah had expressed that night. He was right to feel angry. There were so many contradictions—so much about the church that just felt backwards to you. And whenever you raised legitimate questions, you were always met with the same answer:

God works in mysterious ways.

It was a mantra the church elders repeated, but it felt more like a cop-out. A common method of spiritual bypassing.

You wiped the rain that had been pelting your face with your sleeve, unsure of how far you’d ran when a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa!”

___________

At no point in his evening did Noah anticipate running into you—figuratively, and certainly not literally. But when he spotted you bounding toward him with a panicked expression, that’s what nearly happened.

Upon further reflection, you were probably aiming to run past him, but in the moment, it looked like you were on track to collide directly into his chest.

“Whoa!” he called out. Your attention snapped from the sidewalk in front of you to his face, and in the process, your left foot miscalculated its landing. It slid out from under you, giving you a half a second to react and catch yourself on a steel signpost. It was a good thing you had quick reflexes, otherwise you’d have planted ass-first into the muddy puddles lining the street.

“Easy,” said Noah, catching you by the elbows and helping you regain your balance. He observed your soaked hoodie, the way your breaths came out staggered, and the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you caught your breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, struggling to catch your breath.

Noah blinked at you, eyes narrowing in on your expression. Something was off about the way you looked around you nervously.

“You sure?” he asked again.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You looked up at him, fake smile plastered on your face to better sell the lie, but eyes blown wide as if you’d been trying to outrun a predator. Noah wasn’t buying it.

“You tell me,” he said, observing your footwear.

You looked down at your rain boots and back up to him. “I wanted to go for a run?” you said. It was framed as a question. Half-acknowledging that you’d been caught, but hoping he would drop it anyway.

“Right.” He humored you for now. He’d get to the bottom of it eventually.

“What are you doing here?” you deflected. Your breathing had begun to slow. You tucked your wet, matted hair behind your ear and looked up at him with curiosity in your eyes. The tension in his chest began to fade the more you relaxed. As if his nervous system was inextricably tied to yours.

“I was about to grab some tea,” he said, nodding towards the small hole-in-the-wall café across the street. Your eyes followed, then dropped to where he still held your elbows, and he released them. “Care to join?”

“Sure,” you said. He nodded and gestured for you to follow him before stuffing his hands in his pockets.

The two of you crossed the street, Noah taking the opportunity to glance backwards to see if he could gather any context clues and opened the door for you when he found none.

He gestured toward the counter, indicating for you to order first, and sidled up behind you, standing protectively close, just in case there was indeed a threat.

“Want to take this to go?” he asked.

“Sure,�� you said, placing an order for a decaf cinnamon latte. Gross. Too sweet for his taste. “To go, please.”

Noah placed his own order for a green tea before the barista could give you your total. You looked up at him with a question on your face, and he handed his card over to pay for both orders without pause. Perhaps he could buy some of your time.

The two of you stepped to the side while you waited for your drinks to be made. Noah leaned casually against the counter, putting his height on display and moving just enough into your personal space that you’d have to take notice.

“Why were you running in the rain?” he asked.

You looked him over, taking note of his new proximity. “Long story.”

“Do you always deflect this much?” he asked.

You smiled sheepishly. “I’ll tell you, just not right here.”

That was enough to put Noah fully at ease. Perhaps it truly was nothing and he’d just read into your body language too much.

Noah caught you glancing over his body out of the corner of his eye. He smiled to himself. He knew he was attractive. At this point, using his attractiveness to his advantage was almost second nature to him. He drummed his fingers against the counter, feeling a slight surge of energy when he saw you studying the tattoos on his hands and trying not to be obvious about it.

Noah knew he could be cocky at times. His own attractiveness became clear to him in high school, when he hit a growth spurt and got his first tattoo. He received much more attention from girls than his friends did, and it increased exponentially the older he got and the more his once-lanky body filled out. By the time he dropped out of high school, well before his sixteenth birthday, he’d lost his virginity and then some. He couldn’t remember what his body count was up to, but he’d guess it was approaching triple digits.

He tried to stay humble about it, knowing that too much attention wasn’t healthy for his ego, but he did, at times, like to indulge.

Like right now. He was aware you were looking at him. He knew he could invite you back to his studio, that you’d probably say yes, and that you were very conflicted about your attraction to him, because this might be the first time you’d wrestled with sexual attraction to someone who wasn’t bound by the same laws of purity as you.

He’d give you time to figure out what you wanted. He wouldn’t outright pressure you the way he had last time. But he also wasn’t going to stop himself from craving you, or from responding the way his body told him to when in pursuit of something he wanted.

He slid his hands across the counter, allowing his weight to drop to his elbows, and leaned towards you. He was tall enough that his face still hovered slightly over yours when he looked you in the eye.

Many times, people were intimidated by the weight of his full attention on them. They’d step back or break eye contact to diffuse it. You, however, just looked up at him with a question on your face.

Oh, he liked that. He liked you not being intimidated by him.

“So,” he said. A segue into nothing. A great move on his part since he had nothing to say.

“So,” you mimicked, knowing smile teasing the corner of your mouth upward. A warm, sensation rippled through Noah’s diaphragm. He didn’t smile though. He wasn’t going to break his façade so early.

“What…,” he began. He looked out the window as if he’d find a cue card with the prompt he’d need. He didn’t. “…do you like to do? For fun?”

A clumsy introduction to a conversation. Possibly the clumsiest he’s ever made.

You licked your lips and nodded to yourself, amused by his attempt. Without his permission, his eyes darted to your lips. He chided himself and looked away, hoping you hadn’t noticed the rookie mistake.

“Angel,” yelled the barista, shaking him from his thoughts. Noah had given them his nickname for you as the name of the order. It went over the way he expected, with you rolling your eyes and begrudgingly offering him a smile. Glee spread into his cheeks and he shot a grin at you before turning to the hand-off plane.

You grabbed your drinks, handing Noah’s to him and led the way back outside into the rain. Your lead didn’t last long—Noah’s long legs easily overtook you and he had to make a concerted effort to slow his pace so you could keep up.

“I like movies,” you said eventually.

“What?” he asked.

“For fun,” you said. “I like to watch movies.”

Oh. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, this question coming out much smoother than the last, and Noah felt like he was back on track.

“Three-way tie for all of the Lord of the Rings movies.”

Noah stopped short. “Are you serious?” he asked. You nodded.

Without thinking about it, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gave you an overly dramatic kiss on the top of the head, not worrying for a second about how you’d react. This time, you did get shy, shrinking into yourself and making a noise of protest before he let you go.

The power was back in Noah’s possession for the time being.

“What was that for?” you asked, smoothing out your hair. In the dark street, Noah couldn’t see the flush on your cheeks, but he knew it was there.

“I love Lord of the Rings,” he said. It was true. He’d been an avid fan of the films since grade school, back when he and his friends used to pretend to be the fellowship. Tall and slender with long hair, he’d been cast as the elf of the friend group, though he’d secretly always resonated more with Aragorn.

“Which one is your favorite?” you asked, falling back into step alongside him. Even with his slower pace, you had to take long strides to keep up.

“Return of the King,” said Noah without missing a beat. “I get chills every time the beacons are lit.”

“Did you know that in The Two Towers, when Viggo kicks—,”

“—he breaks his toe,” Noah cut you off. He immediately knew where you were going with it. Everyone with even the most basic appreciation for Lord of the Rings knew. It had become a calling card among fans to know that bit of trivia, but he still took pride in finishing your sentence.

The pride within him swelled tenfold when you smiled as if you’d never been more impressed or pleased with him in your life. He couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love with you.

Which was not good, considering how much harder it would be to restrain himself around you. God, he wanted nothing more than to seduce the religion out of you. He wanted to turn his pockets inside out, use every trick in the book to get you into bed, but he would probably end up embarrassing himself if he did, because his charm didn’t seem to faze you.

He knew it wasn’t a matter of attraction. You showed all the signs of being attracted to him, yet you still had the self-control not to act on it, and that drove him wild.

Had he been wrong about you? He thought the reason you were still a virgin was because your resolve had never been tested, but he’d definitely tested it on Halloween, and you’d resisted.

Which Noah had not expected.

And though he had reacted poorly at the time (which he now found extremely embarrassing), he’s started to like that you shut him down. He’s always appreciated a bit of a chase—a smidge of hard-to-get. It made the game all the more exciting for him.

But this was different. You weren’t playing a game. You simply existed as yourself, with no agenda he could detect. And maybe the part of him that needed someone to help tame his ego would like you to continue shutting him down, as much as it killed him.

“I play video games,” he said, breaking out of his thoughts when he noticed he’d been silent for too long. “For fun.”

“What games?” you asked, not missing a beat.

“I’ve been playing a lot of Fallout recently.”

If you told him you played Fallout, he would propose to you on the spot.

“I never got into video games,” you said, and Noah breathed a sigh of relief, because he didn’t need to be any more whipped for you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Oh,” he said, halting his steps. “Um, I was thinking of going back to the studio, if you were okay with that.” Nerves in his sides and in his throat tingled uncomfortably. You hesitated, and Noah wondered if the memory of what happened last time dwelled in the back of your mind, like it did his.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you said after a beat, and picked up your pace once again. Noah exhaled softly, nerves soothed for the time being, and followed.

That was another thing: whenever he was with you, his nervous system oscillated wildly between feeling completely relaxed and supremely on-edge. The constant spikes in his adrenaline translated into excess energy that built up beneath his skin and all he wanted to do was sigh it into your mouth.

The three-block walk back to the studio was over all too soon. When the two of you arrived, Noah unlocked it like he had last time, and like last time, you sat in the same position on the couch.

Noah decided sit on the other end of the couch, rather than his usual desk chair. He faced you, legs crossed underneath him.

You turned to mirror his pose.

“So,” he said, this time knowing what he wanted to ask. “Nice night for a jog, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat and retreating further into your hoodie.

“Not the best shoes for running, I have to say.” He nodded over to the rainboots that rested by the door in a small puddle.

You chuckled nervously, then worried at your lip. “I needed some air,” you said.

“Why?”

You bounced your knee up and down, collecting your thoughts. There was obviously something eating at you, and it concerned Noah that you were struggling so much to talk about it.

He relaxed his gaze, trying his best to train his face into a neutral, open expression.

“Okay,” you prefaced, exhaling a deep breath and twisting the cuff of your oversized sleeve in your hands. You looked anywhere but him. “So I have been questioning a lot about my faith recently. You know this.”

Noah nodded, stomach rolling with pride and with something slightly sicker and more selfish, knowing he’d been a catalyst of sorts for your questioning. He fought it back down, not allowing his feelings to distract him from listening to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded back at him, pulling your sleeves over your hands and bunching the ends up in your fists. Noah liked you this way. Cozy. Vulnerable. “And some people in the church are starting to notice.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding dawning on him. It was hard to ignore the changes in your behavior and demeanor. You’d become more confident over the last few weeks, less eager to please and more willing to stand up for yourself. He wasn’t surprised the church had caught onto it. The same thing had happened to him when he started deconstructing his beliefs—they saw it as a threat.

“When did you stop believing in Hell?” you asked, shifting the subject slightly.

“Oh,” he said again, feeling rather like a broken record.

You looked up at him, eyes growing wet with tears that threatened to spill over, and Noah began to see just how important this conversation was for you.

You waited patiently while he gathered his thoughts. His thumb traced along a seam in the leg of his jeans, grounding him while he tried to recall long-repressed memories.

“I don’t think there was any one significant moment.” He finally spoke, pausing to sip at his tea, savoring its bitterness. “It was more like I slowly came to understand that it was bullshit.”

“What made you realize?” you asked. Now it was Noah’s turn to carry the weight of your full attention. You hung on his every word, eyes trained on him as if you were looking into his soul and it made it difficult to focus. The collar of his shirt was suddenly too constricting. The room had grown warm. The knot of hair at the nape of his neck was tied too tight.

“My grandparents,” he began, clearing his throat. “They overused the threat of it. So did the church leaders. It started to feel empty after a while.”

You nodded, eager for him to continue speaking. “How long did it take to stop believing once you noticed?”

“Longer than it should have,” he confessed, heaving out a breath. “But in my defense, the stakes were pretty high. Had to figure out if I was willing to wager an eternity of torture on it.”

You hummed in thought, attention finally lifting off him and drifting to the space between the two of you.

“Noah, I think I’m…,” you began, but didn’t finish the rest of your sentence. He caught the hitch in your breath. The slight shudder in your shoulders.

He was pulled to you, as if there were a thread tugging at him. He needed reach out and touch you, so he did, placing his hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb back and forth. Something in his bones told him to stay quiet and let you figure this out.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I’ve never struggled with my faith before,” you began, and Noah nodded to show he was listening. “But now, it’s like I don’t know what to believe. I used to feel so sure. And some things I still feel sure about, but everything around it is like…crumbling.”

Noah watched you deliberately, hoping you felt you had his full attention, save for his right hand, which twirled a frayed thread from a rip in the knee of your jeans. To his surprise and delight, you inched closer to him. He made sure not to let it show. He needed his body language to match your tone—to be open and receptive. To be what you need.

“I feel like I was lied to,” you continued, voice breaking. “For my whole life, I was told that I had to act a certain way and believe in certain things. Things that I’ve struggled with for a long time. But I still did because I was afraid of ending up in Hell.”

You paused to sniffle. “And now I’m starting to think that it might not all be true, but I’m scared to think that, because what if it is true? And I do go to Hell? I just feel like…like the ground is being washed out from under me.”

Noah’s tongue prodded the inside of his cheek as your voice became watery. You were so close to a breakthrough. He didn’t want to say or do anything that would interrupt it, but he also wanted to cheer you on.

“I don’t want to become angry and bitter,” you confessed. “But I am angry. And I don’t know at who or what.”

“Are you afraid of being angry?” he asked, hoping it was the right question. This was toeing the edge of his jurisdiction.

“Kind of,” you said. “But it’s more than that. I’m afraid to start questioning, because I’m afraid I’ll abandon my faith altogether. Noah, I don’t know who I am without my faith.”

“Do you want to figure that out?”

You looked up at him, eyes glassy, threatening to spill over.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

Noah could kiss you. He wanted to kiss you, wanted to hold you by your jaw, make you breathe all your worries into his mouth so he could digest them and free you from the confines of your crushing guilt. Whatever suffocating remains you couldn’t exhale, he would swallow whole.

He yearned to crush his body against yours, to card his fingers through your hair and tug at the root, to hear your soft whimpers as he licked along the soft spots of your neck. He wanted the pressure of your thighs wrapped around his hips as he slid home over and over again.

Noah wanted you to take your anger out on him. Wanted you to sink your teeth into his throat, claw your nails down his back, to spit out your unfiltered rage. He wanted you to slap him hard across the face for having the audacity to dream of doing such lewd things to you.

He didn’t do any of those things, but he did take both your hands in his.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you still believe in God?”

You sniffed and nodded. “I think so.”

“Okay. What do you think he would say if he saw you like this right now? If he loves you like he says he does. Do you think he’d be disappointed?”

You sniffed again, blinking back your tears and shook your head.

“How would he feel?”

“I think,” you began. Noah could practically see the cogs turning in your yead. He willed—almost prayed for—you to come to the right conclusion: one that didn’t end in self-hatred or shame.

“I think…he’d be proud of me,” you said.

Noah squeezed your hands in encouragement, manifesting a breakthrough for you. “Why would he be proud?”

“For having the courage to ask these questions.”

Noah’s dick was known to twitch at odd times. But this, by far, was the weirdest.

“To me,” he said, trying his best to ignore the feeling in his dick and focus on the task at hand, “it seems like you’re notabandoning your faith. You’re realizing that it’s so important that you’re willing to risk going to Hell to make sure you get it right.”

A strangled sob escaped from you and you dove into him, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying your head into his chest.

Noah couldn’t breathe, and not because you held him in a vise grip. He draped his arms across your back, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head and praying to God for the first time since he was fifteen that he wouldn’t get a boner.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered into his chest. “I feel like I’m always crying these days.”

“It’s fine,” he said. You smelled like rain and vanilla and something floral he couldn’t place. He tried his hardest to touch you as lightly as possible because if he gave into even the most innocent of his desires, his hands would be wrapped around your throat and he’d be burying himself in you.

You adjusted, crying into his shoulder now, and he could feel your hot breath steaming across his neck. Yes, he knew you were crying and that wasn’t exactly the sexiest thing in the world (at least in this context), but it took every ounce of self-control he had to not put you through the couch. You were half in his lap. Despite his prayers, he was semi-hard, and if you shifted your weight even an inch, you’d be able to feel.

When your sobs finally slowed and your breathing went back to normal, Noah continued to stroke your back with his palm.

Having you in his arms was like flirting with the devil. A serpent, offering him a bite of fruit he knew was forbidden, lest he be cast out of Eden, but the sight and scent and touch of which proving to be far too sweet to resist.

All too soon though, you were self-aware again, recognizing what you were doing and where you were. You pulled back to look at the tear-stained mess you left and had the loss of your touch not been excruciating, Noah would have been grateful because his self-control was just about spent.

“Gross,” he said, pulling the fabric of his shirt out and away from his skin. You had snotted on it.

“Sorry,” you said, laughing and getting up to find a tissue, and Noah was looking at your ass. No other thought ran through his head besides the stern acknowledgement that he was looking at your ass and nothing on this earth would stop him from looking at your ass until you turned back around.

“Feel better?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You nodded, face all red and splotchy.

“I should go,” you said, and his heart twisted and wrenched away from his ribs, but he agreed because he needed to put his cock in somethingimmediately or he was literally going to die.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said.

“I don’t have your number.”

Noah reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, opening a new contact page and handing it to you. Your fingers brushed over his when you took it and he wondered if it was on purpose.

You tapped the screen a few times and handed it back to him. He opened a new text, typed his name, and pressed send. A few seconds later, your phone pinged.

His heart untwisted a millimeter. He had a tether to you now.

“Thanks,” you said. “For everything.” You stumbled back into your rain boots and walked over to where he was still sat on the couch (he couldn’t stand up without giving himself away by that point), and touched your lips briefly to his cheek bone. His skin burned under the touch and he didn’t even have a chance to respond before you were across the room and out the door.

Noah tipped sideways off the couch and rolled onto the floor, sprawled across the narrow passage between couch and desk.

He took a deep breath, feeling like his heart was about to beat out of his chest, then rolled onto his stomach and did twenty push-ups in a row.

His dick was burning a hole through his jeans and if he didn’t do something immediately, he was going to bash his head into the floor.

He pulled out his phone, with one number in mind.

Noah 9:37 PM: ?

Madison 9:37 PM: ;)

Noah 9:38 PM: 5?

Madison 9:38 PM: ✔️ _________

Noah just about ran the few blocks to Madison’s apartment. He walked in unceremoniously, ignoring her roommates, and took the stairs two at a time all the way up to her room.

She was there, sitting on her bed with a hungry smile twisting on her lips. She wore a sports bra and the shortest shorts Noah’s ever seen, but he barely looked at them.

He kneeled in front of her, grasping her shoulders in his hands.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Candyland.”

Noah nodded.

“That’s the only word you’re allowed to say,” he commanded. Giggling, she fell back on the bed, opening her legs wide for Noah to wedge himself between.

Noah closed his eyes, focusing on breathing in and out through his nose and his hands found the flimsy fabric of Madison’s sports bra. She gave a yelp when he just about ripped it off her, flinging it across the room. He turned his focus to her shorts to do the same.

Once she was rid of her clothes, he ran a finger between her hairless folds to find she was already wet. Madison was always reliably wet.

Even so, he stuck two of his fingers in his mouth, collecting saliva before he plunged them into her, moving them up and down, scissoring them the way he knew she liked. It wasn’t long before she expanded enough to accommodate him.

Fumbling while removing his own clothes, he wasted no time taking his heavy cock out and stroking it. He reached into the familiar top drawer of her nightstand, producing a condom and rolling it onto himself. He cradled his throbbing cock and lined it up with her entrance, glancing up at her to check in, and she nodded.

Noah didn’t go slow. He pushed into her all the way as deep as he could go with a snap of his hips, and once he was fully sheathed, he finally he felt like he could breathe.

He groaned low as he began to thrust inside her. She moaned loudly, draping her arms around him, and the second he registered her touch, he grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head. With one hand, he held them there, while the other crushed her jaw between his fingers.

“I need you to listen to me,” he growled, looking her directly in the eye. “Do not move. Do not make a fucking sound. Any other night you can do what you want but tonight, if we do this, you are a fuck doll. Got it?”

She bit her swollen lower lip and nodded eagerly.

“Open,” he said.

She opened her mouth for him and he spat into it.

“Swallow,” he hissed.

She closed her mouth around his saliva and swallowed it obediently.

“Good. Now hold still.”

She preened, eyes rolling back into her head and lips dropping open.

Noah relaxed, finally feeling in control for the first time that evening since running into you. He folded Madison’s legs up over her, found purchase on the backs of her thighs, and began his descent into his lowest and most carnal self.

Madison, to her credit, didn’t make a sound. She didn’t move. She braced herself against her headboard and held her position like a dutiful fuck doll.

Noah didn’t make a habit of treating women like objects, and he didn’t like that he was doing it right then. In many ways, he was disgusted with himself, but tried his best to get over it, telling himself the ends justified the means.

He threw his head back and breathed deep, the heavy musty smell of sex permeating through the air, but Noah didn’t care much about that. He pistoned his hips into her, squeezing his eyes shut tight, wishing he was anywhere and anyone else but the depraved man he knew himself to be.

Wanting to feel at least a little better about what he was doing, he took a thumb and rubbed quick circles into Madison’s clit to reward her for letting him use her body like this.

She whimpered. He didn’t care enough to tell her to shut up again. Any sounds from her were just white noise.

God, Noah hated himself. Hated how absolutely weak he was, submitting to his body without even trying to put up a fight.

He never stood a chance, though. How did you do it?

He sighed and picked up his pace, reveling in the tight warmth of cunt.

Had your roles been reversed the other week? Had it been you on your knees in front of him, practically begging him to give himself over to you, he would have done it without question. Had you given him any hint of desire—had you given him even an inch, he would have taken the whole fucking mile and he would have doubled back just to do it again. What made you so much more capable of resisting?

Madison pulsed around him, and when something splashed against his abdomen with each thrust, he realized Madison had released onto him. She did that sometimes. Whatever. He was used to it. He kept going.

He thought of you masturbating. He thought of you thinking of him while you touched yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your white panties, whining his name while you made a mess of your bedsheets. He thought of you thinking of him tying you down and forcing you, and he could almost cry, he was so hard.

He tried not to think about the fact that he was fucking someone. He wasn’t really. He was using a body to masturbate because he knew it would give him a bigger release than he could get with just his hand.

And fuck, did he need release. He needed control. He needed to defile something beautiful and make it as ugly as he was inside.

Recognizing he wasn’t going to get what he needed in this position, he pulled out, flipped the girl over easily, and pushed back into her with a hard smack to the soft flesh of her ass.

She yelped, but made no other sound, and that was enough for him.

He thought of you coming undone beneath him. Of you weeping with the release of years of pent-up sexual energy. Of your makeup smearing down your face as you cried his name out to the heavens like a prayer for salvation.

He fucked Madison at a punishing pace. She arched her back and whipped her hair around to look over her shoulder at him, and as soon as he noticed, he stared at a random spot about two-thirds of the way up her wall.

Madison gave a choked, strangled sort of sob before everything grew more wet and her pussy began to flutter around him.

Noah would have to finish soon. Madison always got overstimulated if she was forced to keep going.

He gave a low, guttural growl and picked up his pace, needing to get as much energy out of himself as fast as he possibly could. The headboard slammed into the wall over and over, the bed creaked beneath him. Madison was a sobbing, sputtering mess as she tried desperately to keep still and silent for him.

“Just a little more,” he muttered angrily under his breath, picturing you on the brink of orgasm, body tensed up as you began to tip over the edge. “Come on.”

He dug his hands into Madison’s hips, slamming his body into hers and using his full strength to get as deep into her as he possibly could.

His lower abdomen tightened and his balls pulled up with the tell-tale sign of impending climax. He wrenched himself away from her, ripped off the condom, and gave himself a few quick strokes before he spilled himself onto her trembling body. Then he collapsed onto the bed, half on top of her, and curled himself around one of her pillows.

“I’m sorry,” he said, emotions washing over him like a tidal wave. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Madison said, cradling his trembling body into hers. “Noah, that was amazing. Don’t be sorry.”

Noah shook his head, throat closing in as he struggled to breathe. “I have to go.”

“What? Noah, don’t be ridiculous. It’s late. Just stay.” She said—his cum dripping down her shoulder and back as she sat up to look at him.

But Noah was already up, scrambling to pull up his jeans and find the shirt he’d thrown somewhere in his lust.

He all but ran out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. He ran the several blocks it took to get to his house. He slowed down momentarily as he entered through the front door and past the main living space, but it was only to fend off questions from his roommates.

Once in the safety of his room, he collapsed to the floor, crawled to his bed, and knelt.

“I…,” he began, whispering into his clasped palms. And then he blanked. Because he didn’t know who he was praying to, or what for. All he knew was that he was praying.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually settled on. And that’s all he could find to say for the moment. It wasn’t enough. Taglist: @reyadawn @sundamariis @noahsebastions @cyber-tiny @livingdeceasedgirl @just-randomm-stuff @xxkittenkissesxx @treacheryinblue @flowerynerds @1toreyouapart @badomensls @rain-down-on-me @poisongirl616 Let me know if I missed anyone!

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