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#sorry for the lack of fresh content!
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Do I even have an apartment to go to?
I swear I had memories of one. Did I make those up or???
Maybe I just. Need to ask him. It's a dangerous question but I'm really struggling right now to figure out what memories are real and which I made up. Happens after god-knows-how-long stuck in. All that.
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ghastimafrix · 1 year
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hooh gotta say. love being a newcomer to this fandom and looking in the tag daily and realizing. oh my god. everyone else in here is also queer and autistic in some way. thank god. jesus christ.
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jeongin-lvr · 4 months
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ᵎ 🍶 ⊹ clueless, y. jeongin
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꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇!𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾,𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋,𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾,𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖫𝖬𝖥𝖠𝖮𝖮,𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌,𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 & 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅,𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾,𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀,edited.
[ 𝟤.𝟫𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ⭑ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ⭑ [ 𝗆.𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]
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YOUR boyfriend was so clueless in all aspects of women. Sometimes it was funny and other times it was genuinely shocking how little he knew; Jeongin was always nose down in books, easily flustered, yet incredibly attractive. Like borderline insane how attractive he was. Which made it even more of a mystery as to how he has never had a girlfriend, let alone been with a woman.
You often poked fun at him for him, though it was all innocent. At least for the first few months of the relationship.
"Innie, you are such a pretty boy," You would tease whilst leaning against his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder so absentmindedly, though you knew how easily flustered he could get. Jeongin would gush at your compliments with fire in his cute cheeks, squishing to you closer to bury his head into your heavenly hair. Then you'd continue, chuckling as you patted his shoulder and held him, "Bet you have a pretty cock too..." you'd whisper into his ear, leaving him shocked and clueless.
"What—" And them you'd be on about something else, pretending nothing was ever said. As if your words didn't leave his (in fact, very pretty) cock half-hard and beginning to sting with sin, a small stain of wetness from the tip tattooing his sweat pants a darker shade.
But now it was getting a lot less harder to ignore your sinful words. At first he could excuse himself, fix his problem and go back to you (admittedly, a little more flustered). Now, this would happen often the more comfortable the two of you got with each other. From teasing comments to full blown make out sessions— nearly ending with you on his lap riding him. But he always backed out, not because of fear but because he's never done it before (okay, maybe a little fear).
He was inexperienced and he didn't want to blow a load too early; he also didn't want to disappoint you with how little he knew.
And, of course, you'd always smile and give him a gentle kiss when things got too heated. Telling him it's fine and you'll wait for him as long as he needs, settling back into the sofa cushions with a content sigh as you watched the movie you'd put on an hour before, now already at the end.
However, Jeongin was ready. He knew it, he could feel it inside of him. Each time he'd have you underneath him, or you on top of him with a flirty giggle, he knew he wanted to take off your clothes and please you. Jeongin knew with every ounce of his being, every atom longed for you.
So he was determined now. 6 months into the relationship and he was ready to take charge... the only problem was, how?
"Innie, baby, hey," You called, obviously confused as to why he wasn't answering you mid-conversation. Your head whipped around to him away from the screen, catching his eyes staring at you already, though not into your eyes. His gaze was set on your pudgy thighs that lay so barren due to your shorts (or maybe lack of). Adding to the fire was the fact that you wore his big hoodie that he always wore, so it's as if the smell was imbedded into it, pristine and constantly fresh. And that barely covered your thighs, dangling over your body like a shadow of fabric.
Jeongin opened his mouth, dry and a bit flustered, "Sorry, what??" His eyes met yours, cute voice slurred with obvious embarrassment. His pink lips were chapped but you thought that was nothing a little kiss couldn't fix.
"What're you staring at, handsome?" You teased him, poking his cheek with a neatly manicured finger, giggling as you scooted over to him. Jeongin huffed with a pout, tugging his hoodie down to cover the (hopefully not so) obvious bulge beginning to grow in his jeans. But, obviously, you caught it.
"Don't call me that, baby," Jeongin knew that you knew what effect that nickname had on him. It was so cute and innocent yet when they came out of your lips they had a sinful twinge. Like it was drenched in the sex that was beginning to ruminate in the thick, tensed air, "Such a meanie..."
You chuckled darkly, draping one leg over his and sitting so that his cute thigh lay between yours, parting your legs so nicely.
"Why? Does it make you nervous, hm?"
Jeongin looked you dead in the eye, breath stuttering and teeth parted to showcase that cute tongue; the tongue you just wanted to have in your mouth.
"Love, you know why," Your boyfriend droned with a familiar pout. Poor boy stopped for a minute, hesitating to rest his hands on your hips but mustering up the courage with a red face. You tilted your head, a bit confused as his eyes grew a tone more serious, chocolate irises now the hue of dusk, "Uhm... hey, baby... I wanna ask you something."
"Shoot," You looped your arms around his neck, connecting in the back of his hair whilst skillfully playing with the ends of his deep black strands.
Jeongin ignored how his cock ached suddenly at the feeling of your hands in his hair. How it felt when you pulled at the strands just gently but enough for him to shiver. Jeongin silently wondered if he was really gonna do this or if he'd end up in the bathroom again, cock in hand, wondering why he was such a loser.
"Okay, so, um, you know how I-I always say that I want to wait? To, y'know—"
You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, a dust of cherries underneath your skin, "Yes, I know."
"Okay, well—" Jeongin hesitated, his eyes dead set on yours, unknowingly squeezing your hips as he tried to compose himself, "I think I'm ready."
Your eyes widened, meeting his with a soft coo as you ran a gentle hand through his soft locks. Jeongin hissed softly, still insistent in keeping your eyes locked but slowly losing his composure the more you stared.
"You're ready?" You asked, already pooling in your underwear.
Jeongin nodded, kissing your wrist that laid beside his cheek, as if to confirm to you through the silence, "I've been ready— I just want— I want to do this."
You cracked a smile, "Do this? Or do me?"
"Stopp," He whined, trailing a trembling hand up your waist then to your cheek, resting softly on your warm flesh now. His thumb gently rubbing, to his pleasure he felt your skin burning, seeing them red with love, "I'm serious, pretty." His voice was low now, if anyone else was in the room, no one else but you would hear. It was just for you. Like a gift.
"I know, Innie," You whispered back, suddenly you were the nervous one, hands dropping down to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it increased like the sound of a bass drum, "I'm serious too. If y-you're ready, so am I. Promise."
Jeongin felt somehow relieved yet at the same time more nervous. He could feel every ounce of sincerity within your words, your tone too. He already felt so intimate and nothing had even begun.
"Love you, pretty boy," You whispered again, leaning forward to meet his lips, melting into them, "Love you s'much," You muttered against his lips as they immediately meshed with yours, the intensity of every kiss growing. At this point, Jeongin's cock was throbbing just from hearing you say all of that. His hands were gently, timidly prying at your clothes, wanting them off but not sure how to say it without you teasing him.
Jeongin caught your bottom lip, pulling away with a shiver creeping down his spine, "B-Baby, m' so in love with you. Swear to god, you're perfect." His eyes were already dazed as they looked you up and down, admiring your delicious figure, "I wanna make you feel good— show me."
You almost moaned at the sound of it. Watching Jeongin slowly lose it, shirt now tugged up enough to see the true volume of his erection. You could tell he was big, and how he had kept this from you was a mystery. You adjusted on his lap, openly sitting on his bulge as if to let him know— tell him without the burden of words that you're his.
"Show you?" You asked against his lips, grazing them softly.
Your boyfriend nodded, your hands reaching under his hoodie to feel the heat of his skin. Your nails lightly scraped over his tense tummy, breath stuttering each time your fingertips swirled over his skin. He groaned at the feeling of your hips upon his cock, feeling as though he'd bust right then.
"Show me how to make you feel good," Jeongin said it so confidently you almost forgot it was your boy. You liked how eager he was to please yet somehow kept that little bit of composure, "That's all I wanna do for you, pretty."
You almost short circuited, retracing your thoughts and trying to figure out what to do or say first, "O-Oh... well, give me your hand first."
Jeongin obeyed, taking his hand and placing it in yours, eyes wide and staring into yours as he awaited further instruction.
"Now—" You took his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, almost letting out a whimper as he ran a finger up your heat. Jeongin nearly gasped as he felt the heat, the stain of wetness from your arousal, he was perplexed yet utterly amazed, "Yes— like that." You grasped his hand tighter, placing it where your clit was, aching and an angry shade of red, "This feels good... rub— rub it, in circles."
"You're so wet— fuck, I can feel it through your shorts," Jeongin did as you told him. Rubbing gently in what he hoped was a good pace. From the look of your dusty eyes he could safely say it was. Your lips parted with soft whines leaving them, thighs trembling on either side of his legs. It was a sight he could get used to, "Does that feel g-good?"
"Mhm— wan' take off my shorts," So you did, stepping off his lap and leaving his hands empty and unoccupied, which he never knew he could miss. You laid at his side now, head upon a pillow, looking ever so angelic as you spread your legs, as if to invite him. Jeongin ogled for a moment, forgetting he was human as his eyes lingered up and down your voluminous curves, landing lastly on your barren cunt, observing with curiosity.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," Jeongin crept forward, connecting your lips with his in a heated, dramatic kiss, "Thank you, thank you—" He didn't know what he was thanking you for; being you? Letting him do this? Giving yourself to him with such need? Jeongin wasn't gonna dwell on it any longer, instead, he let your hand take his and guide him back to your core.
"M-more," You whimpered. From all the teasing you've done to him for the past few months, it was a bit shocking to see you so pliant. Jeongin nodded against your lips, the kiss becoming a mess as you two persisted, "Like this, okay?"
You led Jeongin's hand to your clit, rubbing gently. Then moaned loudly, as if it was the best thing. Jeongin felt his mind being blown at the noises you made, it was so precious to him. He wondered why he'd never done this sooner; now he wasn't sure he could go without them anymore.
"N-now, like this—" You dropped Jeongin’s hand to your throbbing hole, dripping in sheer globs of desire onto the cushion beneath your ass, glistening in lust, "Two fingers... ah—" You showed Jeongin, letting his two gorgeous fingers breach your hole, slowly inching in. Jeongin choked at how you sucked him in, and at the way your head tilted back, those addicting moans you let out too.
Jeongin was on the verge of cumming in his own pants; shamefully yet he wasn't sure he could even stop if he did.
"Yes... ah, you're hands a-are so pretty—" You were a bit of a mess now, you showed him how to pump them into you and then he was off on his own, watching as you fell apart around him and your moans slipped out dangerously loud, "So— good!"
Jeongin couldn't fathom how beautiful you looked. Hair in the shape of a halo around your flushed face. Eyelashes fluttering and lips parted as a spot of drool came dribbling down; without a bit of hesitation, he came forward and kissed it away, dragging his tongue along the trail as well.
You moaned out at the warm feeling of his tongue, barely able to make out his dazed, enamored expression through the thickness of your lashes.
"Wan' taste you, baby, can I?" Jeongin suddenly asked, scissoring into your cunt as his palm slapped against your core. You truly wondered if he was lying about the whole virgin thing— with the way he was using his fingers it was like they were made for this shit.
You nodded at his words, "Please!"
Jeongin didn't need anymore confirmation to bend forward, hips rutting into the pillow below, his own moans vibrating against your clit. His lips wrapped around them, eyes fluttering shut as he made out with your pretty sex.
"G'na— ah, cum!" You shouted as his tongue flicked along your clit, making you see stars as his fingers carried out your orgasm. Hitting your gummy spot with little caution, lips around your cunt. You creamed around his fingers, yet Jeongin didn't stop filling you with his knobby digits.
You pried them away, lost beneath your lashes as you tried to breathe, searching for his gaze.
Jeongin looked at you expectantly like a puppy waiting for praise, lips curled into an almost prideful smile as you whispered into nothing.
"Fuck, Innie, felt s-so good," You brought his face up to yours, post-sex haze making you needy and soft, "Thank you, baby."
Jeongin groaned as your thigh rubbed against his cock, the pain suddenly reminding him he was left unattended. Your eyes fell to the prominent outline, the stain of precum on the fabric, making you suddenly want more.
"Jeongin, baby, put it in," You pleaded, grasping his biceps in your suddenly small hands, shaking figure as you begged, "Please. Wan' make you feel good, too."
Jeongin lost it, nodded through the dizziness at your words, "You're unreal— fuck, baby, gonna put it in, tell me if it hurts—"
You watched him mess with the button of his pants, a little confused as to why it would hurt. Then you met eyes with his cock, throbbing and red, dripping. But most importantly, massive. You audibly gasped with bewildered eyes. It had to be more than ten inches, and it looked painful to hold, hard with intricately drawn veins. You locked eyes with your boyfriend, shock evident on your gorgeous face.
"You're fucking huge, Innie," You almost moaned as the poor boy grew shy, opening your legs and aligning the tip with your ready hole, "M' gonna split in half."
Jeongin would've laughed but he was too immersed in the pleasure, sinking into your dripping cunt inch by inch until there was nowhere left to go. Despite having an inch or two still not submerged, he let his head fall back and moaned, loudly and super cutely.
"Don't say that— m-might cum already," Jeongin propped his arms beside your head, finding your lips and messily making out with you as he tried to not move. It was hard with you clenching and sucking him in. Your hands looping around his neck again, lips wet as saliva pooled down your chins in a puddle.
"S'full," You mumbled, losing track of how his lips collided with yours in needy sweeps. Jeongin moaned at your words, "Holy shit, baby, I gotta move. M' moving, pretty!"
Jeongin was apologetic but his hips moved, skin slapping on skin as his pace stayed relentless and quick, shallow yet letting you feel as much of his cock as you could. Every vein, every cursive line within his pretty fucking cock.
Jeongin bit your bottom lip, hands clenching into the couch material as he fucked into your harder. The lewd noises of your cunt swallowing his length was pornographic and beautiful to him; like music to his ears, a sound he never knew he needed.
"Ohh, Innie, fuck, it's s'big!"
Jeongin dropped his head into your shoulder, your hands going to his back to claw at the porcelain skin. Jeongin choked out a moan, biting your neck as he mumbled out a barely coherent, "M' gonna cum— can I? Inside? P-please?"
You were too overstimulated to say no, you moaned yes and with that Jeongin released into you, suddenly the feeling of being full making you overwhelmed. It felt like you were sinking into the couch, clawing to Jeongin to stay steady as his cum pooled inside of you.
"Shit, shit, m' sorry, pretty," Jeongin spoke after coming down from his high, pulling out and hissing at the feeling, "Are you okay?"
You opened your eyes with a dazed flutter, meeting his worried bronze ones as they scanned your messy red face, "I can't believe you had a dick that good and you've been keeping it from me!"
Jeongin blushed, dropping his head to your shoulder again with a nervous whimper, "You're something else..."
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fatuismooches · 4 months
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Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D
♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)
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“Home…”
Sender: Pierro
It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.
They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.
When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.
And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow. 
Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.
Attached Items:
Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]
Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]
“A Day Off.”
Sender: Dottore
[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.” 
My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.
[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them. 
Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.
I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes… 
Attached Items:
Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]
Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]
“Care For A Show?” 
Sender: Columbina
Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.
My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story. 
It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.
Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.
Attached Items:
Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]
Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]
“An Excellent Day.”
Sender: Capitano
Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?
When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.
One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)
So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.
Attached Items:
How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]
Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]
“They’re Annoying…”
Sender: Wanderer
It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating. 
Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her… 
Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.
But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?
But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.
Attached Items:
Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]
Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]
“A Lavish Tea Party.”
Sender: Sandrone
Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…
Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.
[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.
Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.
Attached Items:
Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]
Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]
“Another Year Passes…”
Sender: La Signora
In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?
And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.
However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.
Attached Items:
Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]
Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]
“Birthdays…”
Sender: Pantalone
When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.
Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.
Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.
Attached Items:
Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]
[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]
“Appreciation.”
Sender: Arlecchino
Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…
I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.
My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.
Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.
Attached Items:
List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]
Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]
“Splash!”
Sender: Tartaglia
Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.
But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!
Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!
Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.
Attached Items:
[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]
Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]
2K notes · View notes
valleyofheartz · 24 days
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Beginning of the End
pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader
angst to fluff
WC: 3.1k
synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.
content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!
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you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.
you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.
you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.
Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.
“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.
you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”
he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.
he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”
you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”
he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”
you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.
“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”
you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”
Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.
what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.
“Hey. Where’s mine?”
you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.
Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.
“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.
Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.
your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”
Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”
she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”
your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.
“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.
perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.
things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.
that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.
“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”
he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”
-
“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.
he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”
“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.
“Have fun, Rin.”
you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.
the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.
the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.
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he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?
you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.
you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.
“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.
but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.
you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.
he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”
he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”
he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.
“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”
he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”
your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.
“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”
you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”
you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”
you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.
“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.
Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”
Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”
Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.
Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.
“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”
Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.
Lunch?
Today was…Thursday.
he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?
he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.
putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.
“Fuck.”
-
Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.
when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.
he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.
but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.
his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.
Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.
more importantly, it’s yours.
he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”
Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?
“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.
he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”
her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.
Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.
-
the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.
“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”
it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.
you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.
“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.
you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.
“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.
you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.
“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?
you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”
Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”
you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”
Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.
“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.
a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.
you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”
Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.
the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”
you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.
Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.
Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.
“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.
you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.
“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.
“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”
he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”
he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.
“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”
you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.
“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”
you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.
he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”
the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”
he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”
you pout, “Not a queen?”
he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.
“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”
EXTRA:
"So, who was that asshole earlier?"
you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."
Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."
you look at him with a blank face.
"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."
he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"
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a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫
688 notes · View notes
ellieswrldd · 10 months
Text
drunk in love
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pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: when a hot stranger stands up for you at a club and offers to buy you a drink, how could you say no?
content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, public sex (public bathroom), drunk sex (reader is tipsy, ellie is high), strap-on use (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), ellie calls the strap her cock, reader is shorter than ellie, brief weed use, alcohol, use of term 'pretty girl' & she/her pronouns on reader, creepy guy hits on reader, brief slut shaming. https://open.spotify.com/track/6jG2YzhxptolDzLHTGLt7S?si=9940e02d8b1743a6
With loud party songs blasting around you and your friends shouting drunkenly in your ears, you could hardly form a coherent thought. It didn’t help that your mind was already a bit hazy from the few drinks you’d downed at the beginning of the night when your best friend Dina had bought you and all your friends several rounds of drinks to celebrate her engagement. That’s why you all were here after all, it was Dina’s bachelorette party, and she had chosen to get wasted at a popular nightclub in your city. 
It was clear that every girl you’d come with was already drunk, making you the soberest one of your friend group, despite being more than buzzed. As they danced wildly on the dance floor, you found yourself in need of fresh air. The club was packed full of sweaty, drunk partygoers, and all the movement and lack of space made it difficult to enjoy yourself. Waving to your friends to let them know where you were headed, you pushed through the throng of people surrounding you until you saw the exit. 
Once outside the building, you took a deep breath and leaned against the scratchy brick wall. The air was cool and brisk against your exposed skin, the consequence of wearing such a revealing outfit. Dina had persuaded you to wear a revealing sequined top with a matching miniskirt that just barely showed the crease where your ass met your thighs. It was impractical, that was certain, but something about dressing so provocatively to go out with your friends boosted your confidence. 
You rubbed at your bare arms as you let out a long sigh. In your peripheral, you saw a tall man approaching you cautiously. Gnawing on your lower lip, you straightened up slightly, glancing around at the other people loitering around the building. 
“Hey there,” His deep voice broke the peaceful silence. You turned to eye him for a moment before looking away. 
“...Can I help you?” You muttered, your voice dripping with annoyance. The man chuckled softly and cleared his throat. 
“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink or something. You’re like exactly my type, and–” He said as he leaned against the wall. You shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him. 
“Not interested, sorry.” You cut him off and crossed your arms over your chest. 
“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” He laughed sharply as if he was in disbelief that you had rejected him so suddenly. 
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not interested. Would you just leave me alone now?” The words sounded monotone and bored as they came from your mouth. 
“Listen, I was trying to be nice and give you a good time, but clearly, a bitch like you can’t appreciate a good guy when she comes across one.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I even offered. You’re dressed like a total slut. Most guys want their women with a little bit of taste.” You spun on your heels to face him, your expression a mix of anger and disbelief. 
“Hey, dickhead, she asked you to leave her alone. Get over yourself and go home.” A woman shouted from behind you. You turned curiously and glanced over at a young woman only a few feet away. 
She was leaning against the wall, joint burning between her lips, her green eyes trained on you. She took a long drag from her joint and exhaled as she let it fall to the cement and put it out with her shoe. With a few long strides, she stood at your side, glaring up at the man without a hint of fear in her eyes. 
He scoffed and looked from her to you. 
“Man, fuck this.” He muttered before turning to walk away. You let out a deep sigh and slowly looked up at the girl. 
Now that she was in front of you, you could fully take in her features. Her short, auburn hair was in a messy mullet style, one that complimented her strong jawline. Her cheeks were speckled with an array of freckles and her face was decorated with a few faded scars; one that split one of her eyebrows, one on her cheekbone, and one on her upper lip. She intrigued you. Your attraction to her was hard to describe, she was different than your usual type, and your meeting was slightly embarrassing, but the way her eyes transfixed on you made you wonder about her. 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t mean to interfere. He was just being an asshole, and I thought he might try to do something to you.” She muttered, sliding her hands into the pockets of her washed-out jeans. The corner of your mouth twitched upward into an almost smile. 
“I appreciate it,” You stuck out a hand and introduced yourself. 
“Ellie Williams,” She shook your hand and smiled. “I was going to head inside and get myself a drink if you’re interested in joining. I’d love to buy you a drink if you’d let me.” Ellie looked at you with a sly, confident smirk that made your stomach flip. 
You laughed softly and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Ellie.” She bites her bottom lip and opens the door for you before following you inside the club. With Ellie trailing behind you, you approach the bar and push past the people standing around to flag down a bartender. 
Ellie looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell her what you wanted to drink. “Just a dirty Martini, thanks.” You chuckled softly as she nodded. Waving to a bartender, Ellie ordered for you and a simple Rum & Coke for herself. 
You snuck a glance at her hands as she took the drinks from the bartender. Her fingers were long and slender, decorated in an array of silver rings. Your eyes trailed upward from her hands to her forearms. Her arms were toned with muscles, her right forearm marked with a dark tattoo that sprawled from her wrist to her elbow. Despite her sleeves being pushed up to her elbows, you could see a few dark lines poking out from underneath, presumably other tattoos that were covered up unintentionally.
Ellie passed you your drink and cleared her throat. “I’m going to sound so cliche, but what brings you here?” She kept her gaze trained on your face as she took a sip from her glass. 
“It’s my friend’s bachelorette! She’s over there–” You pointed to the dance floor, quickly directing Ellie to Dina, who was wearing a white pantsuit and an obnoxiously bejeweled white veil that you had bought her from Party City the day before. “Everyone’s very drunk, but I haven’t had nearly as much to drink as they have.” You laughed as you watched Dina jump into the arms of another friend of yours. 
Your gaze soon returned to Ellie, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you caught her staring at you. “And what about you? Do you always sulk around clubs and save girls from seedy guys?” Ellie let out a choked laugh at your words, setting her drink down on the countertop. 
Ellie leaned in close, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she said, “Just the pretty ones.” 
You giggled and tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach that her touch had caused. “My knight in shining armor,” The words left you sarcastically. 
The feeling flowing throughout your body slightly confused you; it had been a while since you had successfully hit it off with another woman, let alone one that made you weak in the knees with her gaze alone. 
“In all seriousness though…I sell weed here on occasion. Just happened to be smoking outside when I saw you.” She looked down at the floor briefly, tapping her fingers along the rim of her glass. 
You looked up at her as you bit your lip. “I’m glad you were there, Ellie.” You touch her arm gently as you speak. She smiled softly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest tint of a blush on her cheeks, but then again, the flashing lights made it hard to see. 
As the song playing transitioned into a familiar beat, your eyes widened, and you looked up at Ellie excitedly. “Oh my god! This is one of my favorite songs!” You exclaimed, voice rising so she could hear you. “Ellie, come dance with me!” You proposed with a wide grin, not leaving her with much of an option as you were already tugging her toward the swarm of people on the dance floor. 
Despite her cool exterior, the second you pulled Ellie into the crowd, she was laughing and singing beside you. Still, she was a bit awkward when it came to the dancing, but it’s not like anybody was paying any attention to you two. 
Without saying a word, you grabbed Ellie’s hands and moved them to rest on your hips, spinning around to turn your back to her. Ellie let out a shaky breath, confident you wouldn’t hear it over all the noise. You were pushed up against her, swaying your hips in accordance with the song, gently grinding against Ellie’s hips with every movement. 
It didn’t take long for Ellie to catch onto what you were thinking, her grip on your hips tightening. She gently pressed her lips against your earlobe, her hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin. You leaned your head back against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as her lips slowly traveled from your earlobe to your exposed neck. 
It was difficult to tell if the giddiness you were experiencing was caused by the drinks you’d had or if it was Ellie’s touch alone that had your body burning with desire. Either way, you found yourself desperate to feel her body against yours. 
Settling a hand on top of Ellie’s, you craned your head to the side to face her. With your free hand, you gently held the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Ellie was quick to return the kiss, her slightly chapped lips moving hungrily against yours. She groaned softly as she tasted your sweet lip gloss on her mouth. 
You turned to face her, breathing heavily. “I need you,” The words left you in a needy whisper, but even when the blaring music drowned out your plead, Ellie saw the movement of your pretty lips and knew exactly what you were saying. Three words, three syllables, ‘I need you.’ 
The two of you hurried over to the nearest women’s bathroom, kissing one another needily the minute the door closed behind you. You pulled Ellie into one of the stalls, locking the door with a shaky hand as she pressed your body against it. 
Ellie was anything but shy when it came to touching you. Her hands roamed your body presumptuously, her hands wandering from your hips to your chest all while she kissed you passionately. 
While kissing you, Ellie bit your bottom lip playfully, quickly running her tongue along your lip afterward. As your tongues intertwined and slid against one another, Ellie nudged her leg in between yours, gently rubbing her thigh against your clothed pussy. You let out a muffled moan against her lips as you rubbed your cunt against her leg. 
“Fuck…” She groaned, watching you grind against her helplessly. Ellie could see you were overcome with lust, and so was she. Gently, Ellie tugged down your sequined top, allowing your breasts to spill out for her to see. She kissed along your jaw, her kisses quickly turning from innocent pecks to hungry suckling, leaving purplish-red hickeys in her trail. As her lips traveled across your jawline and neck, those long, slim fingers of hers started to toy with your hardened nipples. Quiet gasps and moans fell from your glossy lips as she pinched and rolled your buds in between her calloused fingers. 
“Ellie…” You whined as you moved your hips against her thigh, desperate for some sort of release. 
She chuckled and pulled away from your neck to look down at you. “So needy…” Ellie mumbled. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down just far enough to reveal the strap-on toy she was wearing. It was purple and obscenely large, with a few thick veins detailing the sides of the dildo. You stared down at the toy in surprise, looking back up at Ellie with wide eyes. “Do you always wear that around?” You murmured, glancing down at the strap again. 
“Just when I’m trying to get laid,” Ellie remarked, laughing quietly as she kissed your cheek. You giggled and brought your lips to hers.
“Ellie, there’s no way that thing will fit inside me.” You whispered against her lips as you felt her hands gently moving your skirt up your hips. “I’ll be careful and go slow…don’t worry,” She reassured you. “And if you really want me to stop, just tell me, and I will.” 
You nodded and let her pull the sequined skirt above your hips, revealing the simple black panties you wore underneath. You heard her breath hitch at the sight, and you felt your face grow hot as she glanced from your clothed cunt to your face. Without much of a warning, Ellie placed her hands under your thighs and gently picked you up, pinning you against the stall door and holding you up. 
Gently, Ellie rubbed her middle finger up and down your panties, groaning softly when she felt the wet spot your slick had created. “So fucking wet…” She commented quietly, as she pushed your sheer panties to the side and revealed your pussy. Ellie circled your clit slowly with her thumb, using every bit of self-control to stop herself from whoring you out on her strap right then and there. 
“Please, Ellie,” You moaned and clutched her shoulders tightly. Ellie inhaled sharply and nodded. She carefully slid a finger inside your aching slit, biting her lip as she watched her finger disappear inside of you. You hugged her, burying your face into her neck as your breathy moans and gasps filled her ears.  Soon, Ellie added a second finger as she whispered sweet praise to you. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl…” She said with her lips pressed against your ear. “Jus’ gotta get you ready for my cock,” Her teeth sunk into your earlobe just enough to get you to whimper loudly.  “I’m ready, please– I need it,” You begged her, eyes glossy with tears of sexual frustration. Surely part of your neediness was because of the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny that everything about Ellie made you feel excited. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so desperate to hook up with someone, let alone in the bathroom of a busy club. 
Ellie chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. “Okay, but tell me if you want to stop, alright?” You whined softly as she pulled her fingers out and gently rubbed the strap along your dripping entrance. Slowly, she pushed the tip past your slick folds and into your cunt, earning a deep moan from your lips. 
“Oh my god, Ellie,” You squeezed your eyes shut while she continued to push further inside you. “It’s so big…” You cried. 
“I know, but you can take it, pretty girl…I know you can…” Ellie cooed, her fingers digging into the exposed skin of your thighs. 
The slow pace she was moving at was practically torturous, but when she finally slid the full length of the strap into you, you knew the wait had been worth it. Ellie began to thrust into you, cautiously at first, as if she was scared to hurt you, but when she saw how much of a mess you were already, she couldn’t help but pound into you relentlessly. 
It took every ounce of your strength to refrain from screaming and moaning her name; the two of you were fucking in a public space after all. So, with a hand covering your mouth, you let out choked, muffled moans with every jerk of Ellie’s hips. It didn’t take long for Ellie to find that spot deep inside of you that almost made you scream when she hit it with the tip of her strap. 
Your eyes were watering and glossy, hot tears threatening to spill down your face. A small smile spread across your face as you felt your walls tightening and your orgasm building up inside of you. It appeared that Ellie could see how close you were as her pace sped up and fucked into you without remorse. 
You opened your mouth to tell her how good it felt when you both heard the bathroom door slam open and bang against the wall. Ellie froze, eyes wide as the two of you listened to a group of girls file into the bathroom. They talked loudly, shrill laughter echoing throughout the room as they conversed. After a few moments, most of the group had left, but you could still hear a couple of girls talking. 
“God, this fucking pantsuit is so itchy…” Your eyes widened as you realized one of the girls talking was Dina. 
“At least you’re not wearing a miniskirt! This thing keeps riding up,” Another one of your friends responded. Ellie looked down at you, slightly confused as to why you seemed so shocked.
“Those are my friends!” You whispered to Ellie. Her eyebrows raised slightly before a mischievous grin began to form on her face. 
“Hey, have any of you seen y/n?” Dina asked. 
“Not since she stepped out for air– maybe we should look for her.” Ellie bit her lip and slowly thrust her hips upward, causing your eyes to roll back and a wrangled gasp to escape you. 
“Y/n, you in here?” One of the girls called out. Ellie looked down at you, her eyes dark and full of lust. She shook her head, silently telling you to keep quiet. Ellie placed a hand over your mouth and paused for a moment to readjust herself before thrusting into you once again. She plunged into you rigorously, smirking as hot tears began to fall down your cheeks. 
“Guess not. Let’s go see if she’s outside,” Dina suggested. In just a minute, the girls had filed out of the bathroom, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. 
“Almost got us caught, couldn’t keep quiet, could you? Huh?” Ellie mumbled once the door slammed shut. 
“F-Feels so good,” You sobbed as your walls clenched tightly around the strap. Ellie pulled your body as close to hers as she could and kissed you. It was a messy kiss, saliva trickling from your lips as you pulled away to cry out something incoherent. Ellie groaned softly as she felt the base of the strap grind against her puffy clit with every deep thrust inside of you. 
Ellie felt like she was going insane as she watched you take her strap. Your makeup was smudged and running down your face with your tears, your breasts bounced with every move of Ellie’s hips, and your lips were shiny with drool. You looked so fucked out, so pretty, and you hadn’t even cum yet. The scene in front of Ellie was pornographic, and she couldn’t get enough of it. The way you cried her name every time she hit that spot deep inside you made her want to make you hers right then and there, but she knew better than to ruin the mood with her nonsense. Better to save it for later after taking you on a date, something romantic like that. 
“God, you should see yourself right now, lookin’ so pretty while you take my cock…” Ellie moaned softly before she nuzzled her face in your neck. 
“Ellie- I’m gonna cum!” You gasped as your legs began to shake. Her fingers moved against your clit quickly while she continued to thrust at the same relentless pace. 
“Oh yeah? Gonna cum all over my fucking strap?” She muttered teasingly. You let out a choked sob and nodded. Ellie grinned and kissed your neck softly. “I know you are, pretty girl.” She breathed heavily against your sensitive skin. Based on the sounds she was making as her hips stuttered, you guessed she was on the brink of an orgasm. You were proud to see it– you wanted to see her cum just as badly.
Quickly after Ellie spoke, you felt the tension in your stomach unravel. Your orgasm came over you like a tsunami, your vision going white with pleasure. Ellie’s thrusts turned sloppy as she too began to climax, small moans and whimpers escaping her. The base of the strap was rubbing against her clit so perfectly that it was hard for her to focus on anything else. Pleasure coursed through every part of your body as you cried out and spasmed in Ellie’s arms, her incoherent mumbles of praise reassuring you.
Slowly, you both regained your composure after your orgasms had fizzled out. Ellie gently pulled the strap out and helped you stand, resting a hand on your lower back as she did so. You adjusted your panties and skirt before tugging your top back up. Ellie’s hands traced the hem of your skirt as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss. 
“For what it’s worth, I think that skirt looks stunning on you.” She whispered, a dazed smile on her face. You giggled and snaked your arms around her waist. 
“Not too slutty?” Ellie shook her head and gently wiped your runny makeup off your cheeks. 
“Not at all– I think it’s very tasteful.” She kissed you, her hand gently squeezing your hip. 
“I like you, Williams.” You murmured as her lips left yours. She chuckled softly and looked down at you.
“Well, I like you too.” Ellie ran a calloused thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I take you out on a date? I’ll make it worth your while…” You giggled and nodded. She kissed your cheek and jaw a few times, her lips curling into a giddy smile. 
“I’d like that,” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the stupidly large grin on your face. Taking her hand and intertwining your fingers, you stood on the tips of your toes and gave her a long, caring kiss. “Why don’t we get out of this bathroom? My friends are looking for me, and I don’t want to worry them too much.” 
Ellie nodded and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Let’s go. I’m dying to dance with you again anyways.” Her voice teasing but still genuine. 
You reunited with Dina at the bar, Ellie trailing close behind you. Dina glanced at Ellie and back at you with a curious expression. 
“Ellie, would you give us a minute?” You asked her sweetly. She nodded and walked away, muttering something about grabbing some water.  “Who is that?” Dina asked, watching intensely as Ellie walked away. 
“It’s a long story–” Dina’s sharp laugh interrupted you. 
“You fucked her, didn’t you! You dirty dog!” She gasped dramatically, and you both broke out into laughter. 
“How can you tell?”
“You have hickeys all over you, and your makeup is smudged– I’d be stupid if I didn’t notice,” Dina stated and crossed her arms over her chest. 
You giggled and shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” Dina grinned and nodded. 
“Well, go and get her! She can come party with us!” Dina exclaimed and waved Ellie over. Ellie was quick to join you two, her arm sliding around your waist as she stood beside you. 
“Dance with me?” You asked as you looked up to meet her gaze.
“Always,” She chuckled. 
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
a/n: this was literally supposed to be a quick lil drabble but here i am with 4k words...im proud of this tho <33
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mrs-illyrian-baby · 2 months
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Good Girl | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble
You don't listen to Sarge's instructions during a mission so he has to show you that you can be a good girl if you try.
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, pet names & honourifics, clothing dispartiy and leather kink.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist
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Bucky dragged you to the back of the plane, sliding the panel that separated the main sitting area from a small cargo hold at the back.
Sam had shouted that the both of you should behave, there was no worry about that. You'd behave now, the fire behind Bucky's eyes told you you'd behave for a long time after this as well.
"You could have died" he hissed, hauling you up onto the large container box. Even though he was looking up at you now, you still felt small. Stupid. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to berate you, that you were an agent first, that you were supposed to follow orders because they keep you safe.
He looked up from his tirade to see the tears begin to roll and stepped forward, back into your space.
"Babydoll?" He dropped his voice, quiet now, and wary.
"I'm so sorry" you sobbed, letting the tears over flow and pour down your face "I'm so sorry, I wanna follow orders, I wanna be good, I thought-" you hiccuped "I thought you were in danger, I couldn't-" hiccup "bare it".
Strong hands cupped your face, brushing your tears away, his hands cold from his leather gloves.
"Oh, Babydoll, that's why?"
You nodded, voice failing you. Bucky wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close and burying his own face in your leather clad chest.
"I wanna be good" you whispered "I wanted to be good. I - I love you is all and I"
He looked up, pressing his thumb to your lips, salty and red from your tears.
"I love you too, Baby, I'm sorry. You are good, you are" he ran a hand over your hair.
"Even though I didn't follow your orders?"
"Even though you didn't follow my orders. I can't blame you, I'd have done the same thing" he murmured.
"Will you tell me I'm good again? I feel...bad" you flushed, trying to hide your embarrassed face in his neck.
"Yeah? You need to feel like my good girl again?" The words went straight through you like electricity.
"Yes, yes please, Sarge" you did your best innocent eyes, blinking slowly and biting his thumb, still resting against your mouth.
"Hmmm... okay" he narrowed his eyes but the low grin he was hiding gave him away "Let's get you out of this" he plucked at the leather jacket and polyester combat trousers you were wearing, a few knife cuts against the legs from your earlier tussel.
Bucky backed across the small hold to the thin bench against the wall of the plane as you stripped, patting his knee "c'mon then, Babydoll, c'mere like my good girl, my best girl"
On wobbly legs you walked across the space, you felt dizzy, sick like you'd been poisoned by your own lust. Falling into his lap he spread your legs over his own, knees widening until your body hovered between you.
He pulled you down by your tag, holding you still while he kissed you, biting at your bottom lip and pulling away enough to look you in the eye.
"That's my Babydoll" he slid a leather clad hand across your wet folds, the cold material drawing stark attention to his tight black attire and your complete lack of clothing. The thought made you gush, fresh slick coating the leather as he pushed two fingers in "What a good girl, all wet for me."
He leaned forward making you clutch at his jacket for balance "think you could get wetter"
You moaned a response, you're sure you could, the question was more whether you'd survive it.
His fingers stilled, your hips winding in response, trying to find purchase, friction, something. Bucky chuckled darkly, biting the lobe of your ear until you cried out. His other hand shot up, covering your mouth. Without his support you dug your hands deeper into his clothes, feet barely touching the floor as your legs dangled over his thighs.
"Hush, Baby" you quietly moaned against his mouth, moving your hips again "I know what you need, my desperate girl can't wait any longer, can you" you shook your head, trying to stay quiet "and you want to be a good girl for your Sergeant, right?" You nodded "then you'll fuck yourself" you moaned again, his hand tightening over your lips "quietly! Or not at all. Can you do that?" You nodded. His hand moved away "tell me"
"I can do that, Sarge"
"Do what"
"Fuck myself, Sarge" you were so deeply ashamed of how much you needed this, but God, he was right, you were wetter, your arousal dripping on the floor.
"How?"
"On your fingers, Sarge" his deep chuckle was back.
"Good girl, yes, but I was looking for quietly"
"Yes, yes quietly, Sarge, I'll be quiet, I'll be good, Sarge, promise, so good"
He brought his legs a little closer together, your toes just touching the floor and giving you enough leverage to bounce on his hand.
"Then show me"
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chrollohearttags · 11 months
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oh nufffinnnn just thinking bout eren telling reader to “stop running” and to “move her hand”
why? Whyyyy would y’all do this to meeeee? 😫 knees just buckled and everything (and not just because one of them is out of place)
content warning/themes: bsf eren bc im obsessed now, black fem reader (plus size descriptors) missionary, mentions of nudes, back scratching, hair pulling, daddy’s used, pet names (pretty girl, mama) creaming, full nelson
“ ‘Ren!—Eren, okaaayy! Ooh, you win!”
crying out in a fussy huff as your once best friend turned lover hovered the entirety of his six foot three slender frame towered over yours. A firm grip from both hands keeping your feet pent back near your head and your legs wide open..perfect for him to fuck you as he saw fit. How exactly had you landed yourself in such a position? Well..
“I know. I always do, baby. So I don’t know why you play like I can’t handle your fine ass..talking about ‘you don’t even know what to do with me’…out ‘your fucking mind. And I told you to stop tryna’ run because you’re not going anywhere. Take this fucking dick like a good girl. You can do that, can’t you?”
once again, silly banter ensued between you two and he yet again, had to prove you wrong. It wasn’t long after he had exited basketball practice and an intense workout; still pent up with energy and plenty of arousal..especially after you sent him some rather salacious messages. The two of you weren’t certain if you were ready to put a label on things but you were damn sure having a ball engaging in activities that couples would. Like calling one another pet names, even around other people. This time, he just so happened to be changing in front of his two closest homeboys when you FaceTimed…fresh out the shower, wrapped in a towel and looking good as fuck! The thoughts that ran through his head were not ones that he should have around other people. He had to all but restrain himself from getting hard right there in that locker room. And you didn’t make matters worse when he got to his car and you had sent him nudes. “I’m at practice right now, mama, I gotta call you back.” Videos of you playing with that pretty pussy, telling him to come stretch you out instead. Taunting him with mentions of being too tired to handle you. Watching cream drip all down those fingers..and the sound of wetness while that sexy voice moaned his name and called him daddy? You had to pay for that! So he cleared up any confusion when he stopped by your apartment, keys still in hand when you strutted out in nothing more than an anklet, white painted toes and a bonnet. Dropping to your knees to devour his dick where he stood. Spitting, slurping and sucking him off as if you lacked a gag reflex. He couldn’t believe how nasty you got for him..it was treatment he could get used to! Which in turn, swiftly got you hoisted up in the air and fucked into oblivion, right there in that living room. Only now, he was getting his lick back for your earlier commentary.
“You so deep in this fucking pussy, daddy…I—I’m sorrryyy.”
attempting to tap at his abs and push him away.. to which he’d only laugh, slapping it out of the way with minimal force because you were so depleted. He’d slow down his thrusts just a tad because maybe he had been fucking your shit up. But you weren’t done yet, he was sure and neither was he. You were going to eat your words. Slowly circling that clit with his thumb pad, he’d coo to you with the other palm on your cheek, finally releasing the grip on your legs..
“Yeah? You’re sorry? Afraid I can’t accept that, pretty girl…imma need you to come for me at least two more times before I can forgive you..”
it was in that moment that you realized what type of demon you were truly messing with! Leaning down, he’d spit into your slippery folds and keep pumping that cock in and out. “Oh my God, I can’t stand youuuu..shit!” Laughing as you glared up at one another, laughing and enjoying the moment. But you weren’t getting let off of the hook so easily!
“And move that hand, you’re not slick..you’re getting all this dick. Show me you can handle it.”
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nyimasu · 11 months
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BLEACH MEN, PART 1
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───── 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝑇𝑈𝑅𝑁𝑆 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑀 𝑂𝑁
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— CHARACTERS : Urahara Kisuke, Hirako Shinji, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez
— CONTENT WARNING : sex toys, fingering, oral (f receiving), lingerie kink, rough manhandling, bdsm content (primal sex play, biting), use of pet names, dry humping, bits of breast play, cervix fucking, creampie, dacryphilia
ANYA'S CORNER : this is the first part of my bleach hcs regarding men. soon I will be digging into the beautiful world of bleach women too 🤍
you can find the second part here !
REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!
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✧. URAHARA KISUKE — SEX TOYS
It doesn’t matter if he’s on the receiving end or you are. At the end of the day, Urahara Kisuke is the winner, and the victor takes it all.
“Kisuke, ‘s too much. Be gentler, please.”
The low buzzing cuts off, its pressure vanishes from your aching clit and a soft kiss in the crook of your knee follows your words, as if to accept them. Then the tender moment turns into a steamy one when a chuckle comes from the man nestled between your legs. 
Tonight you lose yourself in his eyes. His bucket hat is gone — probably because you are the one wearing it by the man’s explicit request. Mind you, that’s the only garment you have on. 
He’s so unpredictable, your lover.
Kisuke’s breath caresses your thighs as he finally raises his head, silvery gaze skittering all over your form until a hand of his comes to cup your breasts. The other one stays where it was before, three fingers buried in you with his thumb right above your little bundle of nerves.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Do you want to stop? Are you feeling hot? 
Here, let me help you.”
The slight pressure on your lower half disappears but before you can snap back at the lack of touch, puffs of fresh air glide over you and you sigh in relief the moment the man kisses your wet folds and his fan provides you a much needed break. 
The scenario in which you find yourself starring as the main character is always the same: you, sprawled on the futon you and Kisuke share while the man experiments on your body. Every day a new invention of his to test out, and you’re his most willing victim. 
It’s intoxicating, really, the realisation you feel every time: to be worthy of unrestrained passion, reverence even, from such a poised person as Urahara Kisuke is. 
Especially if your praises for his work, laced with strings of his name and soft pants, get to push him beyond his own limits.
Back to reality, you stare at the scene unfolding before you. It’s as if every frame of it is embedded in your eyelids, yet you can’t help but tilt your head to the side and spread your legs further, fingers sneaking down to press on either side of your lower lips for Kisuke to suck in a groan. The sound goes straight to your pussy, and he sees it when he stoops over it, humming in elation at your body’s reactions to each movement of his. 
Painfully so, because now the fan he’s been using to both pleasure and torment you for no one knows much clicks shut. A moan escapes you at that, and that’s when the man goes ballistic.
Needy are his hands once they’re on you again, his thrusts against the futon to relieve some of the strain in his pants are futile. They don't compare to your warmth. With that in mind, his voice breaks under his own appetite when he says, 
“Are you ready for me? I won’t hold back this time.”
You nod and under your lust-filled pupils, the white fan liquifies in the man’s hold once more, moulding itself into a shape you are very familiar with. Your tensed muscles relax instantly with Kisuke’s tongue flattened on your engorged bud, this time sparing it the attention of his newest invention. Of course he turned his beloved fan turned into a vibrator moulded after his own dick.
A little joke of yours that Kisuke made sure you will never forget, just to “remind you he can have your every hole at any time of the day just with a flick of his wrist.” 
Oh, and he has a portable cast of your pussy. For scientific purposes, by all means.
It’s only natural for a man of science like him, now, isn’t it?
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✧. HIRAKO SHINJI — LINGERIE KINK
The man is too stunned to speak. A rare occurrence, since Hirako is well known for being pretty quick at giving others a piece of his mind. But with you, he’s perpetually at a loss of words.
You spin yourself around again, slower this time, to give him a full show of your naked self but for the lace set of bra and panties hugging your forms just right. Your lips curl in a teasing smile as you watch the blondie fall down in a spiral of despair. 
All because of the lingerie. It’s always been the biggest kink of his.
Alas, his eagerness to fuck you stupid in the expensive sets he buys for you never diminish its grip on him, on the contrary. 
Shinji can’t get enough to see you walking around the house wearing only a satin babydoll, a pair of black panties with little golden ribbons on the back. 
More, more.
“What do you think? Does it look good on me?”
His grin is feral and it follows the beckoning sign of his hand, motioning for you to come closer. Once you do, he’s quick to encircle your waist with his arms and bend his head towards your chest. The wetness of his tongue sends shivers down your spine and you arch your back against him for more. 
He notes it and chuckles, and with the most shit-eating grin he’s able to pull off right now with your tits in his mouth, he deadpans, “Not tonight.” 
And with that the man’s lips let go of your nipples, and you bite back a curse. If you complain, he’s going to prolong the moment and drive you more insane than usual. 
The moment he falls to his knees while leaving a trail of kisses on your navel, his hands explore the thin fabric around your waist. That alone should’ve been enough warning for you. Then he draws a loud moan out of your throat, and it’s too late.
Hazy eyes set on his as he places an open-mouthed kiss on your clothed pussy, sucking the wetness leaking through the lace loudly. He’s doing it on purpose.
Your fingers glide through his hair, a sigh escaping your parted lips as you do so. Its length reaches below his waist once again but you yank just at his roots to make him go faster. You feel his cock slap against your leg when he shifts position, tongue slipping through the garment while his nose hits your clit.
"Shin- Fuck."
Another sob of yours is all it takes for him to get on his feet, spin you around to bend you over the bed, roughly push aside the panties and ease himself in you in one go. His own pants mix with yours and it feels so good.
All because Shinji can’t get enough of the sensation of the lavish texture and your greedy walls brushing and hugging his cock.
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✧. GRIMMJOW — PRIMAL SEX PLAY
The first time he saw you come undone around his fingers, with your pretty face scrunched in ecstasy and your inner walls sucking him in impossibly close, he made an oath to you and himself. 
He was ready to indulge every capricious whim of your heart as long as you were prepared to do the same with his. 
Except Grimmjow is prone to more… animalistic tendencies, per se. Nonetheless, you had agreed by pulling him closer for a messy kiss he accepted, digging his teeth into your lower lip when your nails sank into the flesh of his back.
After the agreement, you’d always play a little game, the two of you. No matter the circumstance, the one who eventually ends up on their back or stomach most of the time — be it against a wall or laid down on either a bed or the floor itself — is you.
Today is no different and a grunt crawls its way out of your lungs. 
Furious with yourself for losing again, you whip your head to the side and stare at your partner. Light blue orbs bore holes in yours as he bares his teeth at you and grunts, just to spite you, to which you reply by licking the sliver of his arm’s skin you can reach before biting the flesh. Blood spills from the tiny wound and Grimmjow straight out hisses now, his callous fingers forcefully running through your hair to keep you in place. “You fucking bit me, woman.”
Your knees, pressed on either side of his waist, quiver around him. But you don’t back off and reply with a heated, “What about it? You deserve it. 
You cheated today.” 
His whole body is caging you on the floor of his residence in the Hueco Mundo, and the coolness radiating from it balances out the heatwave engulfing your senses. He’s a breadth away from literally tearing all your clothes apart with his teeth. 
"You're just a sore loser who talks back too much for my liking. I'm faster and stronger than you. It's only natural for me to win, woman. Uhm, what should I do with you?" his smirk borders sadism when his dominant hand wraps around your throat. Not enough to cut the air out of you, but tight to the point where you throw your head back and pant.
The Arrancar has fucked you so many times using all of his antics that now nothing he does really scares you anymore, rather it riles you up. 
And seeing you so boundless turns him on in a split second. 
His hair kisses your body as the sound of fabric being torn apart buzzes in your ears. Your pants, shirt and underwear? Gone. Ripped to shreds by the Espada’s touch. 
Grimmjow is really destroying your wardrobe each time he’s in a hurry to fuck you, and you bite the expanse of flesh between his thumb and pointer finger on your throat in retaliation.
He stops in his tracks, and the look he pins you down with is positively murderous. 
“You tryin’ to make yourself bleed till morning?”
"What if I am? What are you going to do about it?" you challenge him with your eyes and buck your hips upward to meet his clothed ones halfway. His startled grunt persuades you to do it again. 
But this time his hold on you slides to your hips, and he anchors himself on them with his free hand while the one on your throat snakes down to palm himself through his pants. 
It doesn't take long for your jaw to go slack at the sight of the prominent outline of his erection and Grimmjow nips at the expanse of skin behind your ear before growling: 
“Want my cock so bad, woman? Take it, then”, his last piece of cloth rolls down to his knees, too impatient to take it off unlike his sash and jacket.
“Make me feel good, yeah?”
Eyes roll in the back of your head once you feel his tip prod at your entrance. He falls on the heavier side, and his generous girth fills you up to the brim in a moment.
Once he feels you relax a bit around him, his thrusts gain momentum and he drives himself so deep in you by grabbing you by the back of your thighs to shove them closer to your torso that tears roll down your cheeks without you noticing. Grimmjow kisses your cervix over and over again while his tongue licks clean your cheeks.
He adores how glassy your eyes turn whenever he's balls deep in you, how fragments of tears get stuck in your pretty eyelashes.
"Grimmjow." his names tumbles off your lips so naturally and he fights against his instincts, the urge to flip you on your back and claim you in the most primal position.
He feigns ignorance and sink his fingers further in your flesh. "What?"
"Come in me. I need to f-feel you."
Your fingers somehow wander on his body as you say so, and with whatever strength is left, your nails climb up his back to trace with unbridled fury the lines and curves of the number '6' tattooed on him. The man's grunts grow in volume and you respond with an elated laugh laced with wanting.
He looks down at you, and his lips clash against yours in a battle for dominance, a battle with no holds barred.
Despite being considered too raw for anyone else, Grimmjow has some tiny pieces of humanity left in him and as he slows down to hover over you and cum into your pulsing walls with a low groan — he refuses to do so elsewhere — his bites on your chin and short hums chanted against your neck while you clench around him are somewhat tender. 
Who says Espadas can’t be happy with humans?
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© azanthys — do not copy, translate, repost and modify my works.
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bi-writes · 4 months
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i didn't have an amazing christmas this year so i projected this onto bestfriend!roommate!simon and im sorry about it but im also not sorry about it but i tried to end it nice
more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 6/?)
cw: mature language and content, mentions of past trauma, mentions of unrequited love and lack of family, mentions of death and loneliness, allusions to violence
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you waited for the ringing of the call to stop. you were seated on the couch, the laptop propped up in your lap as you stared at the screen hopefully. your heart skipped a beat when the ringing stopped, a circling loading screen popping up until a grainy video came through.
simon was seated in the dark; you guessed that he was hunkered down in his room, seated on his bunk. he had his skull mask on; the plate sewn onto a balaclava, eye-black hiding most of him in the void of the terrible quality video, and you tried not to notice the mysterious drops of something against the white of his mask.
"hey, simon," you greeted him, giving him a gentle smile. simon ran a gloved hand over his head, nodding.
"''ello, luv. i know the time is bad, if...if you want to head to bed, 's alright with me."
you scoffed, "you know that's not happening. i don't care what time it is here...i always want to talk to you."
he grunted lowly, looking away for a moment at something out of your view before looking back. you moved to go sit by the window, keeping the laptop propped up as you looked outside. you could see the soft lights lighting up the neighborhood; twinkling lights, mostly in red and green, sparkling between the soft snowfall that had began to fall against the pavement.
there was something so peaceful about the moment. you could see the wind pushing the snow at an angle as it fell, starting to add a fresh blanket of white to everything. if you squinted, you could see two people in the apartment across the street, trying to build a small bike in the early hours of the morning. one of them held papers, instructions you guessed, and the other held a screwdriver and was trying to fit the two back wheels onto a base.
"how are you?" you asked suddenly, looking back down at the laptop. "you look like shit."
simon laughed dryly, "you can't even see me."
"i know you," you laughed with him. "and i know that even through the shitty camera, you're worse for wear."
he hummed, looking down for a moment.
"i've had better days," was all he offered, and you swallowed hard, trying to look at him better.
"i miss you, simon."
you said it easily. you did miss him. he was so far away; you didn't know where he was, but you knew it was far. and he did not say when he would be coming back; you suspected he didn't even know himself when he would be.
"i miss you, too, luv."
you looked out the window again. you looked at the couple again, watching one of them take a few bites of some cookies that were laid out while the other had a few hearty gulps of the milk in the glass beside them. your eyes watered a little. their house looked...full. stockings hung over a dwindling fireplace, christmas tree lights giving the room a soft yellow glow, a mountain of presents gathered under a full tree of ornaments.
there was nothing in your apartment. no lights, no tree. you never liked to keep one; you had no one to buy presents for. and simon--this day only brought the wrong kind of feelings to the surface. feelings of torture, of unexpected discovery, of death and the stench of it which couldn't be covered by lighting evergreen candles or baking sugar cookies.
so much of the day surrounded family--of which you didn't have. no one to visit, no one to bring the wine while you cooked the ham, no one to hand you a gift and no one for you to give one to either. you had learned a long time that it was best not to dwell, but it was hard. it was hard when you looked across the street and saw people that had so much more of something. something that you desperately wanted, but couldn't be bought.
when you looked back down at the laptop, simon could see the tears in your eyes clear as day. your eyes were so glossy and wet, and he swallowed hard as he looked at your face, illuminated by the twinkling lights that were bright outside.
"sorry--" you whispered, reaching up and wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater. "sorry, i don't know why...i don't know what's wrong with me." you laughed it off, but simon could hear the pain in your voice. something aching and scratchy, something hollow.
"did...did you get what i sent?"
you looked up at him, frowning a little.
"sent? like...a package?"
"oh, christ, luv, don't tell me you haven't left the flat all day?"
you opened your mouth to respond, but you closed it, smiling shyly.
"just...go check outside. i can see it bloody snowing, go get it before it gets ruined."
you got up from your seat, going outside momentarily. when you came back inside, you had a wet box in your hands, and you set it down on the table as you when to go get something to cut the tape off. when you had opened the box, there was a smaller one inside, a nicely wrapped burgundy box that fit in your lap. you took a seat in front of the camera again, seeing simon's messy handwriting on the top of the box.
happy december 25th.
you laughed reading it, looking up at the camera after you reading the message.
"just another day, right?" he asked. you had new tears now, but they weren't sad. your heart was beating fast, making you take shaky, fast breaths, and you tried to smile, but it was hard.
"j-just another day," you whispered back to him. you took the top off the box, taking the tissue paper out to reveal a little plushie inside. it was a black teddy bear, but this one was unique. someone had fashioned a little skull mask of it out of felt, messily sewn fabric fit over the bear's face with the beady black eyes peeking out from the eyeholes--just like simon's. you picked up the bear, letting the box fall to the floor, and you tipped your head back as you tried to keep your tears inside. "simon--"
you and simon had never really gotten the chance to just be kids. to just be. to just enjoy and to receive something that didn't serve a purpose or a function, something unnecessary and trivial--something considered extra. because possessions were luxury, and you can't remember the last luxurious thing you had ever gotten.
"i know," he said lowly. "fuck, i--"
he pushed his own laptop down, and the camera tilted so you could only see his lower half. you watched him lose a bit of control, more tears coming down your face as you held your breath. simon cleared his throat loudly, ringing his hands together nervously before he picked the camera back up to his face.
"i'm getting the next fuckin' plane out of here, y'hear me?"
you brought the bear to your chest, hugging it gently before nodding. you wondered if this was why he had gotten you something like this--something to hold onto when he was gone. something to remind. something that would make you remember in the simon-shaped void you seemed to dwell in all too often.
"okay."
you had spent many december 25ths without him. you had spent many december 25ths right here, on a lonely windowsill, watching through the windows of lives that you wished you were living. this loneliness was not new--but now the loneliness was shared, and it hurt to share it.
you fell asleep there, watching glittering lights between the snowfall and holding the bear to your heart. the laptop went dark after awhile, and you slept there by the windowsill, wondering if anyone looked in and wanted to live this life instead.
the empty, quiet life of nothingness and bad dreams.
but it was something warm that woke you. a familiar hand, cradling the back of your head, whispering against your hair.
his breath was shaky. sucking in with difficulty, and then breathing out in rough stutters. your eyes opened slowly, your cheek squished against his tactical vest. you realized that he must've just gotten home--he was still head-to-toe in his gear, and you were staring up into the skull plate.
"simon--!"
you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. you gasped as you held him close, and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. your heart fluttered at the thought that he must've left as soon as he told you last night--determined to get back to you.
when you pulled back, simon rested his forehead against yours. you nuzzled your face against his, soft breaths as you grounded yourself in the realization that he's here, he's with me, he's alive.
"just another day," simon murmured, gripping your head with both hands. you swallowed hard, opening your eyes and meeting his own. you swear you saw something sad in them, something emotional, tears of some kind, but he blinked it away before you could look too long. "but i...had to come home."
your nodded reaching up and putting your hands over his on your face.
"i love you, simon."
if he had paid enough attention, he would've heard what those words truly meant. that you didn't just love him, you love him. not want, need, not a preference, but a requirement. undeniable, endless, raw, soul-sucking love--the kind that tore up your insides and spit them out without remorse.
but how can you really love someone like me?
simon tangled his gloved hands into your hair now, tugging gently.
"i love you more."
how can you love someone who's already dead?
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lumilasi · 2 years
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Hey, just wanted to drop by to say I LOVE your art and fics, (especially HoG is my fave currently, and its downright criminal how little comments it has! I'd comment but don't havean acc) and just keep up the good work, sending kudos and hugs! (Also I'm SO sorry about your aunt you mentioned in the notes, I hope she gets better!!)
Aww thanks, glad you are enjoying them!
To be fair, HoG is relatively new fic which might explain the small amount of comments, altho I have noticed a trend of in general getting less feedback, even on more popular fics, even the ongoing ones? Some other writers I've spoken to have also felt like there's less engagement, which I hope its either just us or a small passing trend. Getting comments from the readers is the best part about posting them after all, and the best motivator!
My mum keeps us updated about her condition, so far it seems the treatment is working, but we'll see....
(Side note: you can actually leave a comment without an acc, it just asks for your email, probs to notify you if it gets a response maybe? IDK, I always comment using my account haha!)
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randombush3 · 6 months
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ubi amor, ibi dolor
alexia putellas x reader
part one
words: 11455 (SORRY THERE WAS A LOT TO FIT IN)
summary: alexia and you as posh + becks part two x
content warnings: it’s gets a little sad but tbh the next part is the one you should be worried abt 🤘
notes: this one covers 2017-2019. i apologise if it’s a bit jumpy because if i covered EVERYTHING you’d be sat here reading for days. also, this part was so slow to be finished because i abandoned it for ages and only just decided i should probs get to finishing it. the next part is the last one!
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It’s about three months later, and there is not a silence that can’t be filled with the sound of Alexia’s voice. You don’t know how to prove this, because you leave none to be filled, instead seeking to occupy every spare second granted by your tour schedule to call her, to text her; to talk to her. 
You spend your nights on balconies all over the continent. Your smoking habit is worsening but the excuse of getting some fresh air to do so is a perfect way to weasel yourself out of parties and clubs and late-night chats with your friends. You much prefer to spend your time finding out more about the woman you quickly become obsessed with. She often verbalises her disdain for your disregard for your lungs – something that transcends the language barrier with an overwhelming clarity – but she is glad that you are talking to her either way.
A few times, you go as far as to hop on a secretly booked flight. You never step outside the airport, leaving Barcelona very much stamped in your passport but not on your list of places you have explored, but Alexia is more than content to pursue your hooded figure as you lead her into hidden corners of the arrivals lounge she begins to associate with the racing feeling in her heart when she sees you. Kissing against walls and on hard airport seats is not what feeds most budding romances, but you don’t care. You happily fly to her whenever you have a spare five minutes, and she is more than content to make the time spent physically together worthwhile.
The tour is nearly over. Five shows in three weeks, and then you can traipse back to London to fight off the delayed hangover in the comfort of your own home with meals cooked by your parents to keep you going. One of the worst things about being on the road is the food (or lack thereof), and your athlete gi… Alexia, is unimpressed with your nutrition. You find that she does not agree with most of your lifestyle, yet she seems captivated by it; like she is discovering a different, scarier world, and she can’t close her eyes.
Alexia’s birthday is soon. 
She has enough dread for the event to have communicated it far more efficiently than usual, with most conversations needing to be doubled in length to get past the all-too-familiar grunts of unrecognition. The streets of Barcelona are filled with whispers of a women’s league, and she is unsure of the pressure that is starting to grow on her shoulders. A birthday is inconvenient, she claims, though you only laugh. 
You tell her about Virgil – she knows you love him, she knows you love most things to do with him – and his famous quote. “Labor omnia vincit,” you say, finding it ironic that you are only able to talk to her right now because you skipped out on soundcheck and a run-through with the backup dancers. “Work conquers all. It reminds me of you.” 
Her lilting Spanish laughter fades as she actually thinks about it. 
“Es verdad,” Alexia replies, and you are glad to understand. “Quiero ser la mejor del mundo así que ‘labor omnia vincit’.” 
“You’re speaking Latin with a Spanish accent.” 
“You love my accent.” 
You smile. It’s true. 
It hasn’t settled in Alexia’s mind that you, who calls her whenever you can because you miss her opinions and her jokes and the face that you can picture when she speaks, are the same person as the one she sees on Jenni’s phone as the team crowds round the screen to watch a viral video from your concert last night. 
“A birthday present for you, eh, Ale?” Jenni jests, clinging on to Alexia’s admission months ago about her crush on you. She doesn’t know about the reality of it all. No one does, as of yet. 
“Who puts them in these outfits?” asks Leila, mildly outraged at the bedazzled lingerie you’d been dressed in. “There’s nothing to them! They might as well go on stage naked.” 
“It’s fine. They get hot while they’re performing anyway,” Alexia dismisses, not wanting to delve into your issues with your stylist. Well. Her issues with your stylist, who seems to not care about dignity or have any faith in the world’s imagination. (That, and Alexia is not sure she likes this idea of sharing, though she is aware that nothing defines you as hers.)
“Oh, did they tell you that themselves?” She glares at Jenni, and shoulders her way out of the huddle. It’s not Jenni’s fault that her mood has been easily soured, because tomorrow is Alexia’s birthday and then, the next day, she has to get to Madrid for her national camp. The Euros later this year is going to be in the Netherlands, and her dreams for her country are currently far-fetched. It hurts, and you’re well aware of her misery.
In fact, you are so aware that you are on a flight from Oslo on the fourth of February. It’s too special a day to miss. You have once again abandoned soundcheck. 
Alexia receives a text as she slides into her mother’s old car, considering flinging the device out of the window at one of her teammates’ heads after they sang to her at training without the mercy of letting her forget that she is one year closer to the end of her career. At this rate, the career will be full of wasted potential. She is in a terrible mood about it. 
And then she looks at her phone. 
You have really tried to up your game with the Spanish of late, enlisting the help of a private tutor who Skypes you twice a week with new phrases and grammar that mildly resembles that of a dead language you carry more than a passion for. 
You: Estoy aquí!
The only thing she can think to do is slam her index finger on the call button of your contact, nail bending painfully on the glass of the screen. 
Your instructions are clear: “Airport. Now.” 
She drives. 
She drives at an embarrassingly desperate speed, because just over a week is too long a separation and her day has been awful and there is something so magnetic about your presence that she would be going against nature to do anything other than find you. Obviously, find you she does: right in the arrivals lounge, same black hoodie as always disguising your identity. It’s not any busier than usual, and you catch sight of her the minute she pushes her way to the front of the crowd of expectant faces. 
With a weary grin, you walk towards her, and she knows that this game is only temporary. There will be privacy close by, and you can speak then. 
She turns with a nod, and you follow as she takes the usual route, but suddenly there are fingers intertwined with her own and you are stopping her in front of everyone. 
“Feliz cumpleaños,” you say with a pronounced failure and a hilariously concentrated expression. Alexia giggles, and the storm cloud above her dissipates, but the kiss she wants to press to your lips will have to wait. There’s somewhere empty just around the corner, and she tugs your hand to get you to come with her – to match the same haste she has – but you don’t. “Al coche. So we can go to your casa.” 
Her eyebrows raise. 
“It’s your birthday,” you explain, stepping towards her so that the people around you see a couple instead of two women walking in a vague direction. Alexia swallows, body tingling at your proximity. Her body always tingles when you stand near her like this. “It’s your birthday, so I am here for the night. My flight is tomorrow.” 
She understands you entirely. 
She all but drags you to her car. 
Alexia does not even remember what it’s like to be miserable. She is set alight by your presence, by your lips, your hands, your soft greeting that you whisper in her ear when she pulls away to drive you to her flat. It’s a new place, and she is free from the fuss of her mother. 
You smile when she pulls you out, taking your bulging handbag in one hand and grasping yours with the other, and she kisses that smile as she presses you against the mirror in the lift. The bag hits the floor with a thud, your overnight things spilling out because of her carelessness, but you pay the rolling Dior lipstick no mind, too caught up in the way her tongue swirls in your mouth. How her hands grip your waist. 
She’s stronger than last time. She gets stronger every day: she is going to be the best footballer in the world. She is dedicated to her sport. 
Your palms travel up the back of her t-shirt, cold from the metal you’d previously had them pressed against. Alexia flinches as your fingers brush a particular spot, the skin there slightly raised. 
“¿Que pasó?” you ask, head tilted to the side as she draws back, panting. “Are you hurt?”
She examines your eyes. Deeply inquisitive. Full of something that may resemble love in the future. 
Alexia smiles – an expression that she wears mostly when she is thinking about you. You watch as she turns around, the lift jerking to a halt as if to hurry up her slow movements. As she lifts up her t-shirt, you eye the tattoos you are aware decorate her back. There are going to be more someday, she has always been clear about that. 
And, oh. 
You’re not usually so attached. Alexia, it’s apparent, is a complete exception.
She asks you if you like it. You lean forward, and kiss the four words (she must have researched the quote, because you excluded the last when you mentioned it), tongue running over the redness as if you are going to heal the irritation. She moans quietly, more surprised than anything else. 
“Do I get the credit for it?” She shakes her head, which you catch in the mirror opposite, and, before you can voice your protest, she is facing the right way again and kissing you as she leads you to her door. “You know, there’s another quote from him that I much prefer to that one. ‘Labor omnia vincit improbus’ is… Do you know the word workaholic?” Again, her head shakes. She backs you against the wall next to her door, lips attached to your neck as you keen under her touch. 
She slots her leg between yours, and you forget your next sentence. 
It’s a heated kiss. It promises tonight’s activities to you, and you cannot wait for her to unlock her door. 
Your lips run along her neck as she jams her key into the lock. You suck and bite, spurred on by the moans she bites back with a clenched jaw. You find it sexy: her determination to get you inside. And it’s her birthday, after all. She deserves it. You have another gift for her in your bag, but she is grateful for this anyway.
“Inside,” she gasps as you smooth your tongue over the newly-created hickey you just gave her, kicking her door wide open and hauling you through the gap. 
The flat is pitch black, but Alexia knows it well enough to chuck your bag towards the dining table and have you on your way to the bedroom without needing to switch any lights on. But your hands wander, and she gets distracted. She stops you in the middle of the flat, only half a second into your journey, and her life feels so full (especially when you moan like that). The room feels so full. 
The room is full. 
The room is…
“Moltes felicitats, moltes felici–” sings (and abruptly stops) a whole choir of Alexia’s friends and family, the lights switching to bathe the two of you in total mortification. 
Alba’s hand covers the eyes of her cousin’s six-year-old, whose mouth has formed a perfect circle.  
Silence washes over what looks to be a surprise birthday party. One which Alexia was assured yesterday was not going to happen. By multiple guilty attendees! 
Alexia looks helplessly between you, her mother, and the shit-eating grin on Jenni Hermoso’s face, remembering herself promptly when Eli’s eyes drop to the placement of her hands on your bum. She almost jumps away from you. 
“Fuck off,” you mutter under your breath, stewing in the terribly awkward silence as Alexia’s eyes only grow wider and wider. “Alexia.” 
She breaks from her frozen state, thawed by the husk of your voice. 
“Jo…” 
The crowd explodes, and you let the tsunami of Catalan wash over your ears. There is so much noise, and so many people, and you can only watch as Alexia tries to answer all of their questions. She shakes her head, nodding at the same time, switching between two different languages to cover the shrieks from Jenni and the absolute bollocking her mother is giving her in front of everyone about dignity and respect. You are famous, says Eli, and you do not need Alexia’s horny motives to embarass you like that. 
“She’s a celebrity,” Eli chides with a glare at her daughter, eyes softening as you continue to stare at the sea of faces blankly. You are backed against a wall with nowhere to run. “Alexia, introduce us to your girlfriend. Now.” 
“You guys don’t need to be introduced to her!” Alexia replies like a petulant child, nearly crossing her arms and stamping her foot. “You know her name, and you’ve seen her. So you should all leave, really. Mami, I told you I didn’t want a party.” 
Eli’s hands fly from her body to halt the departure of the guests as they catch on to how unwanted they are. “No, we are still going to have this party,” she insists. It’s the final decision. “So, go on. Introduce us.” It’s definitely not a question. 
You clear your throat, wanting to save Alexia somehow. “Hola,” you begin, and every face breaks out into a beaming grin. “Um. Soy Y/n. Y… soy de Inglaterra?” 
“Sí,” Eli says with a swell of encouragement that you can feel from two metres away. 
 “Alexia,” you plead. 
“Guys, this is Y/n. She doesn’t speak Spanish, and she definitely does not speak Catalan, so either you practise your English or we cut the cake Mami has made and then you–”
“I am a big fan!” Jenni squeals, accented words loud and piercing as she surges towards you, sparking the movement of the entire body of people. No one listens to the rest of Alexia’s declaration. 
… 
There is a reason you are so well-liked, Alexia determines. She can see it as you interact with her family and closest friends. You smile and you listen and you remember things about people that they would deem insignificant. And it helps that you look breath-taking while doing it all.
Sitting at her dining table, Alba on one side, her mother on the other, she watches you flit around her flat with a talent for socialising, charming every person you speak to. 
“She doesn’t know how you feel, does she?” Eli comments, noticing the hesitation in her daughter’s expression. 
“I don’t know how she feels,” is what Alexia replies, because there is no way you can ignore the emotion she pours into your conversations. It exceeds that of a simple crush or hormone-fuelled desire. “She is incredible. I am me.” 
“You are Alexia Putellas.” 
“And she at least likes the way you kiss her,” Alba chimes in, her contribution unnecessary but making Alexia blush at the memory. The fact that her entire family saw that, most of them knowing where you were heading, is something she might be tossing and turning about at night for a while yet. 
“Your father would love her.” 
“I think so too,” Alexia says, chin resting on her palm as the world melts away, your eyes briefly meeting with hers as one of the children giggles at the face you have just pulled behind their mother’s back. A pang of disappointment reverberates in her chest as she grieves momentarily over the loss of her favourite person on Earth, wishing he could have shared the traumatic experience of today. He would’ve laughed so hard at her face when the lights went on.  
“She seems lovely, really. Very polite. Is it because she’s English?” 
“She is very…”
“I suppose the Latin came from her?” Alba asks with a smirk, prodding the fresh tattoo over the thin material of Alexia’s t-shirt, grinning as her sister hisses in pain. 
“Next time, we can go somewhere quieter and talk properly. I know that you’ll be busy when tonight is over.” 
Both Alexia and Alba shudder. “Mami!” her little sister groans, suppressing her gag. 
“Sex is nothing to be ashamed of, Alba.” 
“Never say ‘sex’ in front of me again,” Alexia tells her smug mother.
“Well, never get so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice the balloons taped to your flat number.” 
Alexia bolts outside to check, and hates herself when she sees them. 
“Dance with me!” 
You grab Alexia’s hand, pulling her towards you. The party has lasted longer than she’s happy with, and you have seemingly forgotten about what you could be doing. You love to dance. You love music. 
The little boy who’d been your partner up until now sticks his tongue out at Alexia, and she reciprocates the gesture. She is the birthday girl, after all. 
You don’t understand a word of the music, but the beat flows through your hips as you move them against her. She runs her hands up and down your sides, your tank top now the only layer between your skin and her impatient fingers, hoodie having been stripped off the minute the party became interesting. 
“My mother likes you,” Alexia whispers into your ear as you sway in time to the rhythm. Her lips brush your ear lobe, and you shiver despite the growing heat between you. 
“This was very much a surprise,” you giggle in response, possibly answering wrong because her Spanish didn’t quite catch.
“Mhm.”
“I can’t wait for them to leave.” 
Her eyebrows furrow. “You are not having fun?” 
“I am,” you reply with a nod, a smirk slowly creeping into your content expression. She holds her breath, reminding herself of the presence of her family as you grind into her. “But I also can’t wait to fuck you.” 
Alexia shudders.
“I will tell them to go.” 
They cut the cake. 
They sing again, completing the lyrics this time. You are even taught them before-hand, pushed out to the side of the crowd, very much silently told that you currently hold no place in Alexia’s life in comparison to these people. They all love her. You aren’t there yet. 
But, she values your presence. 
Alexia doesn’t care much about the people here tonight. She sees them almost every day, and she knows they are constants. What she does care about is you. 
You, in that tank top. You, with your hair down, face fresh even though your day must have been exhausting. You, with a red mark on your collarbone that no one knows how to point out to you in English. 
Soon, everyone is gone, and you are panting underneath her. Her lips capture yours, muffling the groan that comes with the movement of her fingers inside you. Your legs wrap around her body tighter, heels digging into her back. 
Her hair falls around you; encapsulating you, surrounding you with only her. Her smell, her taste, her fingers. 
You moan as her determination to destroy you becomes apparent. She hits every spot that has been neglected for the past few months, and though it is the first time the two of you are doing this, it’s as if Alexia has studied your body for years already.
She breaks apart from you as you come, your back arching off the mattress, chest pressing against hers. She wants to see your face for the first time. If she had a camera, she would have used it. You look beautiful. 
Nothing on Earth compares to the cliff you have just been pushed off, and it is as if you are falling for eternity. 
She goes again, and again, and again. She’s an athlete. 
She ruins you, but her strong arms hold you together afterwards. 
You fall asleep, for the first time in a while, with someone by your side. Whose hands find purchase on her favourite part of you, pulling you on top of her as she whines at your own tired attempt to make her feel good. Alexia whispers that she has been given enough, that she doesn’t need it, and she thinks you fall asleep to the sound of her incomprehensible, breathy Spanish. You cling to her. 
The tour ends. 
You couldn’t be happier. The final show is a blessing, and the tears in your eyes are of joy. You, Gio, and Anya are going home at last. 
However, the well-decorated flat you walk into lacks everything possible, because there is no Alexia standing in the middle of the living room. She can’t be here, though you wish things were different. The season has been successful for her so far, and she is busy. 
You really miss her. One night wasn’t enough. It will never be enough, and you are starting to realise the gravity of your blushes. 
You like Alexia, and you have fallen hard and fast.
“You’re not coming back with us,” your brother says knowingly, skiing beside you down the picturesque blue run in Les Gets. You have come here every year since you were eight. April is a little later than usual, and the snow often turns to slush towards the afternoon – though one could argue that is simply a cue to move onto apres-ski – but it is pleasant to be on holiday with your family. People try to bother you, but it is easier to pretend you don’t see their waves when you have your ski goggles pulled over your eyes. 
Your brother coughs, not pleased that you are ignoring him, reducing him to ‘everyone else’. (His ego, far too preened, far too large, cannot handle the idea of that.)
In front of the two of you, your father turns with precision and great technique. You can’t relate: you’re drunk. You have been since this morning. 
“Sorry?” Your innocence is pretence and he rolls his eyes behind his Oakleys. 
“Your flight. I saw it was booked to take you somewhere else. Somewhere you’ve been going a lot.” 
“You’re not subtle.” 
“You’re not subtle,” he replies, skis dangerously close to yours. You have to swerve, sending you onto the off-piste section of the run much to your irritation. With the excuse of tackling the jumps, however, you are lucky to evade further questioning, watching as he glides off into the distance, reaching the banner and skidding to a halt to wait for you and your mother. Your mother prefers to drink more than ski. She is always holding up the rear. 
When you return to the chalet, bought by your parents a decade ago to solidify their roots in Les Gets, your brother seems to have remembered your conversation from earlier. Your parents have gone out for dinner, leaving the two of you to make something for yourselves. He is glad to have you alone. 
“You don’t like lads, do you?” And, in truth, it’s an insightful question by his standards. He cares; he just does not know how to show it. 
Pausing the construction of your sandwich for a moment, you allow him to see you for who you are. He’s your brother, after all. “Not at all,” comes your response. 
He hums. “Thought so. You’d have gone out with half of England’s football team otherwise. God knows that they don’t mind.” 
“England has a women’s team.” 
“Gross.” His lips purse as he thinks about his little sister’s love life, and he decides that he would like to know more about Barcelona. “Are you buying a villa?” 
“What?” 
“Well, you go to Barcelona a lot. Are you buying a villa with the girls? Is that what celebrities do?” 
You roll your eyes. “Mum and Dad buy villas. It isn’t just celebrities who splurge on property.” 
“You’re not answering my question.” 
“I wish you’d never become a lawyer.” 
He laughs – hearty and deep. His laugh reminds you of dark forests for some reason; tall trees that dwarf your body, but keep you safe nonetheless. “I wish you’d never gotten famous. My life would be so much quieter if half my mates weren’t trying to squeeze something or other out of my connections.” His pride is profound in his misery, and you smile, blushing. “You’re not buying a villa.” 
“Well done, genius,” you taunt, assembling your sandwich once again in hopes that the baguette will kill the buzz in your mind. You can’t really think when you’re drunk, and, recently, when there is nothing else to occupy you, your mind wanders to Alexia. What is she doing now? Does she miss you? Is she excited to see you in three days? 
It dawns upon his face with an amusing animation. “You’re seeing someone,” he accuses. 
“Maybe,” you shrug. “She’d be one lucky girl.” 
“One unlucky girl, you mean. I’d better find out who she is and tell her to run for the hills. You’re about two decades overdue for an exorcism, and it shows.” He swiftly appears behind you, despite his lumbering limbs, and flicks your ear as your teeth sink into your dinner. You squeal, pushing backwards to get him away from you. “What’s her name? Who is she? What does she do?”
“She is… classified.” 
He reaches for his phone. “I’m going to find a list of Spanish names and see which one turns you into a tomato.” 
“She’s still classified.” You prod your index finger into his shoulder.
“Hey.” You retract your finger, surprised by the tenderness of his tone. “You can tell me, you know. You’re my little sister. I really don’t give enough of a fuck to spread it.” 
With great shame, you absolutely do not need to be told twice to talk about your favourite Spanish woman on the planet at the moment. He actually has to beg you to stop. 
Things with Alexia are good. 
Not just in terms of your relationship, but in general, too. Walks are more enjoyable, and so are mornings, afternoons, evenings. She likes that you feel comfortable to chill in her flat while she goes to training. She likes that she comes home to you. She likes that you spend your days with a pencil between your teeth, a blank page set out in front of you. 
Now that the tour is over, it is clear what comes next. The new album will be the best ever made, you have decided, because you might finally understand the lyrics that you sing. They could resonate. 
They will resonate. 
Alexia asks you to be her girlfriend when she drops you off at the airport. Your plane is private and she can kiss you goodbye when you agree. 
You love being Alexia’s girlfriend. You repeat your new identity over and over as you fly back to London, and it is a mantra that plays on loop in your mind as you get on with life back home. 
The girls tease you mercilessly when you spill it. All three of you are on the balcony, though this time there is a joint placed between your fingers rather than a cigarette. Slightly high, more so giddy about Alexia, you confess. They’re happy for you, but Gio can’t help but text Anya later that night. 
Gio: Have you seen the new plan? 
Anya: What plan? 
Gio is sitting upright in her bed, ensuring that her panic is quiet so her new boyfriend does not wake up. Her fingers hover over the keys shamefully, but she has to tell someone and it can’t be you.
Gio: The publicity plan. 
It’s at your studio session the next day when all comes to light. Your manager/publicist appears, which is honestly quite rare. She’s not fond of the claustrophobia of the small room, nor the darkness it becomes shrouded in when you, Gio, and Anya are trying not to murder each other. 
Dave swivels around on his chair, bored with the bickering. You aren’t sure about a lyric, but they disagree, even if Anya knows you have a better point than the third member of your group. 
Your manager clears her throat. “Y/n, may I speak with you? It’s quite important.” 
“Do this lyric without me,” you grit out to Gio. 
“It’s your solo.” 
“I don’t care.” 
With that, you follow your manager into the corridor. 
They hear your protests from the studio, the shout of frustration piercing through the small gap underneath the door, overcoming the supposedly impregnable sound-proofing. 
There are tears streaming down your face upon your return. Fuck her, and fuck him. 
Anya and Gio can’t look at you. Their chins dip to their chest as they slump in place, succumbing to the predetermined guilt they discovered last night. 
“It’s not fair,” you cry to them as they refuse to turn around, throwing yourself onto the sofa with a heaving sob. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair. She’s going to hate me — she’s not going to love me anymore, and I… I love her.”
Anya’s mouth opens with a sob of her own. She had thought Alexia was a dalliance. She hadn’t realised. 
It’s fun to have someone, she knows, but it is painful to love them. 
You are clearly not enjoying yourself now. 
“You love her?” she asks, though she is sure of the answer as another gasp leaves your body with a chilling desperation. 
“Yes, I fucking love her. It was obvious.” 
“But you—”
“Because I’m not out!” 
“So what did she tell you?” 
“They want it to last a few months. Enough to draw the attention away from my aversion to men and his relationship with some blogger.” 
Anya gulps. A few months is a lot to endure, especially for the footballer whose heart you’ll be breaking. “You’ve said no, right?” she tries, paling as she grips onto the mic stand, trying in vain to remember the harmony she is supposed to sing. “You’ve told them… You’re you, of course you’ve said no!”
“Of course,” Gio adds, equally in denial. 
You can only shake your head. 
You were not given a choice. 
Telling Alexia is hard, and not just because of the tears running through your words as you try to get them out over the phone. 
In Barcelona, her head hangs in disappointment. She is never going to be good enough for you, she tells herself. The world will soon slot you by the side of another celebrity, and you will be pictured together as many times as humanly possible. No one will know that she is the one you call when you need to talk to someone, or that it is her rose that is pressed between your favourite copy of Little Women, saved from Sant Jordi. No one will be any the wiser to the girlfriend you keep in Spain, nor assume that you are visiting the country for a reason other than tourism and partying with your favourite foreign men’s football team. 
It goes like this for months. 
It sours the second- place finish in the league even more; makes the Champions League semi-final exit soul-destroying; and completely ruins her joy about winning the Copa de la Reina (worsened by a picture of you and him released the morning of the final). 
She is still your girlfriend, but she is always one step behind you. She is in the shadows of the crowd when you sell out Wembley for the first time, and is just out of frame in the picture captured backstage of you and your lover embracing. His muscles do not feel the same as Alexia’s, but he becomes a friend, you guess. He isn’t fond of the arrangement either. 
Then, when Alexia feels as though she might explode from the jealousy she harbours, she is tested once more as you go radio silent for a day. It’s unbearable. You usually text her every hour. 
She misses hearing you greet her with ‘I took a smoke break’. She misses the taste of your lips, and the heat of your breath, and the swell of emotion you cause inside of her when you show her that you really care. 
It’s a hard day. The Euros have started, and Spain has won their first two group stage matches. Vilda is terrible as usual, but it is nothing in comparison to the cavity left in her chest where you have carved out your notifications. Alexia has never wished to be distracted from football before, but today is clearly Judgement Day. 
“Is this about your girlfriend?” Jenni pesters, mocking Alexia’s frown by exaggerating it on her own face. “She’s not pinging your phone every five minutes and now you’re inconsolable.” 
“I have many things to be upset about,” Alexia replies moodily, though Vilda’s earlier berating has had no effect on her mood because it simply cannot get worse. “Our coach is shit, and we don’t get treated like England or Holland does.”
“And your girlfriend hasn’t texted you.” 
“Yes, Jenni. She hasn’t texted me.” 
She sighs. 
Jenni is repulsed by the fire in Alexia’s belly seemingly having been put out. Her grimace is noticeable as she bends down to unlace her boots, glancing around the shoddy locker room, imagining what Alexia claims a few of the other teams have. 
“Maybe she’s busy. She is, like, famous. She could be out for lunch with Shakira!” 
“No, that was last month.” 
Jenni pauses for a moment, awestruck at her friend's seriousness, before collecting herself and trying another approach. “Why don’t we do some shooting practice while you wait for her to call? That way, Spain gets more goals, and you’re…” 
She doesn’t get to finish, cut off by the alarming brrrp of Alexia’s phone. Her friend saddens at the volume, pitying Alexia for how loud she has turned her ringer up just in case she had been missing your notification all along. 
Alexia swipes her phone up from the bench, and hurries into the toilets. 
Throughout the five months you have been dating, Alexia has become increasingly more aware of your intense reactions to emotional situations. You feel when you feel. She admires you for your work ethic, as you do her, because you fly from Barcelona to London and back again, all while writing songs, humming melodies, and holding together your high-profile life. Unfortunately, your determination and tendency to give everything and more has bled into every aspect of your life. And you are a wreck when she finally gets a word out of you. 
“Tranquila, cariño,” she tries as you suck in a pathetically shallow breath. She knows exactly how many kilometres away from her you are, and she wishes she could sprint the distance. “Tranquila. What has happened?” 
“I… I fired her.” 
“Who?” 
“My manager.” Alexia’s hand balls into a fist and she quietly celebrates. Well, until you sob again. “I mean, we all fired her. But now we have no manager and Dave is concerned about the structure of our group and the album sucks and it’s shit and HE tried to kiss me yesterday, even though he’s got a girlfriend too!” 
“Búa, más slower, por favor. I’m not inglesa!” 
Life, even if you are upset right now, starts to look up. You even get to spend a month with her, practising your Spanish (mejor-ing your nivel de español), meeting her family in a more appropriate context, and even watching the first match of the 2017-2018 season. Which Alexia is adamant they will win. 
She proposes in November; a year after you kissed. 
It’s not a hard decision to make. Not when you have built IKEA furniture together, and spent a week in Menorca with her, her mother, and her sister. Not when her English is littered with your vocabulary and references to Virgil and the like, and your family can all shout at you in Spanish because they’ve heard her do it so many times. Not when ‘I love you’ is the easiest sentence she’s ever said. Every minute of her life that she gives you is like exchanging part of her soul for pure, complete bliss. 
You’re fucking freezing, and befuddled at the fact that Alexia has requested to take a walk in the park near your flat. Your Spanish girlfriend, the same woman who finds summer too temperate in England, has somehow turned into a snow-lover, even if there is only damp grass and a biting wind. Alexia wishes England had white Christmases, but it’s a myth, she has discovered. 
The ring sits in her coat pocket. She chose it with Alba before she left the warmer climate of Barcelona, and her sister did not ask her whether she was rushing into things. It’s not too soon; if anything, she should’ve asked a year ago. 
“Fuck me, it’s cold,” you groan as you shiver. She takes your hand, her woollen gloves itchy against your bare skin, but it warms you up. “We could be inside, in bed. There’s a new series we could start, or, I don’t know, don’t you have some football game to watch?” 
“I hate watching football with you.” 
You part your lips to respond, but she is not lying and she has said it before. Some bullshit about you supporting all the wrong teams. 
“Well, I hate it when you drag me out into the freezing cold for no reason. If you want a dog to bring on walks, just say so. We can go to Battersea before you leave tomorrow.” 
“Don’t,” she murmurs, halting you both near the inky water of the lake you have been circling for the past five minutes. It sucks that her visits are temporary, even if you are technically moved into each other’s homes (she has your keys, you have hers). With the remaining time left before her flight tomorrow at noon, she has worked up the courage to do it now. 
It’s like scoring a goal: receive the pass; dribble; gear up for it; shoot. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Her free hand reaches into her pocket. “Nada.” 
“No, you’re acting weird…” You blink a few times as if to adjust better to the dim light coming from the distant lampposts. A plop sounds from the water, and she jumps. She’s on edge.
“No.” 
“Yes. Jesus, you haven’t decided to break up with me in the middle of a park at night, have you?” Your question packs an unnerved insecurity, and she feels a little guilty about the suspense. She fiddles with the ring in her pocket, and then she takes a deep breath. “Hey,” you try tenderly. “Seriously, Ale, what’s wrong?” 
“Te lo dije. Nothing.” 
“So what’s in your pocket?”
“Nothing.” 
“Are you sure?” 
She sighs, “here,” and she grabs your hand to press it into the soft warmth inside. And there’s a piece of metal, heated by her fingers. With a chunk of rock on top of it. It feels like an engagement ring. You’re probably not getting broken up with tonight. 
“Are you proposing?” 
“Are you saying yes?” 
“Yes.” 
“Hòstia.” She frowns, and you consider pushing her into the lake. “I am going to say it now.”
“But you already—”
A quick display of her athleticism, for the muscles exist despite being buried underneath all those layers, and she is down on one knee. Her joggers will have wet patches, and she hates the squelch of the mud beneath her, but she has a perfect view of your surprise. Your tears. 
“Bueno. Your brother helped me to… write the speech,” she starts, and her rehearsal is adorable. Although, honestly, you don’t hear what she has to say because you have already made up your mind. 
You tell her yes in as many languages as you can. 
And she thanks you with breathy moans into your mouth as you guide her towards a bench, and then your flat, and finally your bed. 
When you are finished, well into the early hours of the morning she will have to leave, you climb out of bed, missing the firm grip of her toned arms the minute you’re out of it. There is a burning, overwhelming sureness inside of you that you can’t escape. You know it is soon – probably too soon for most – but there is a person out there for everyone, and yours is right in your bed. 
Your guitar, slightly dusty from the neglect because of your frequent visits to Barcelona, rumbles when you pluck it from its stand, collapsing into the armchair beside your bed with a groan, feeling the ache of your muscles that only affirm just how good a time you’ve had with your fiancée. 
You don’t play anything interesting, but the noise is enough to rouse Alexia from her heavy slumber. She lifts her head from where it has been buried within the silk pillows of your bed, and watches as your fingers pluck the nylon strings with vague allusion to one of your older songs. The weight of her ring – your engagement ring – does not seem to affect your playing: in fact, Alexia realises your hand was naked without it. You hum, fingers beginning to itch for a cigarette the minute the guitar starts to bore you, and she clears her throat. 
Her grin is self-satisfied and certain. “Me voy a casar contigo,” she says into the dark stillness of your bedroom.
“I love you,” you reply.
Being engaged is fun. 
Like, really fun. 
You stay in Barcelona in December, hiding from the bitter chill of England. No one questions it, and the absence of a manager grants you so much freedom. The girls pop to the city one weekend to brainstorm a song, but, other than that, you are content to forget your own identity and become Alexia’s fiancée, one of the regulars at the increasingly more popular Barça Femení games (only the team know you’re there, able to see through the caps and sunglasses). 
There are still rumours circulating about you and him, though their credibility has lessened ever since he revealed himself to have been in LA for a while. To the world, you’re sort of MIA. They catch you occasionally when you return to London for photoshoots or just to chat with your friends and family, but they get nothing more. Your Instagram posts are few and far between, and the most recent paparazzi picture is of you leaving Gio’s house to buy her a pregnancy test. 
When the test is positive, something is tweaked inside of you, and you return to Barcelona – a place that is now your home too – carrying a lead-ish guilt. 
Alexia loves her football, and Alexia is obsessed with her career. You are too, but you have done what you can, really. The BRIT nominees will be announced tomorrow, and you know that you and the girls are on that list. You have your fame, you have your money. But Alexia has neither, and she should. Especially when her male counterparts are raised high and mighty on large, golden platforms. 
You know just how ambitious she is, and that is why you lack surprise when you enter her flat to find her hunched over her iPad at the dining table, replaying the same twenty-second clip over and over until she has identified every single fault and created a plan to correct them. 
She barely registers your presence, but you don’t mind how absorbed she is in her footage. It is nice to make the ever-composed Alexia jump when you slink up behind her, pressing your lips against her neck. She dissolves herself in the fuzzy feeling you give her.
“Hola,” she says, regaining control when she spots another mistake, grasping her pen tightly as she scribbles down Spanish words you can’t be bothered to read. 
“Hola,” you reciprocate, though you are a lot more enthusiastic about it. “Tengo una pregunta.” 
“Oh no.” You wrap your arms around her shoulders, and she relaxes. Your ring reflects the light from her screen as if to remind her that you are hers, and that softens her previous sternness slightly. Another kiss to the skin behind her ear, and she is more open to talk. 
Clicking your tongue, you think of where to start. “Okay, first, I have news.”
“About Gio? Is she okay?” 
“She’s… pregnant.” The emergency you were recalled to London for was actually a pleasant surprise for her and her boyfriend. You’re unsure about how committed they are to each other, and whether a baby is a great idea, but you held your tongue when Anya shook her head at you. 
“Uf. Pobrecita, ¿no? She loves tequila.” 
“She does love tequila,” you agree with a chuckle. You extend your hand slightly and press pause on the footage. Alexia pushes back against you. Her chair scrapes against the wooden floorboards, but there is a gap between her and the table now. She motions for you to sit in her lap. 
She tilts your chin up and kisses you gently: a welcome home kiss. “¿Qué pasa, mi amor?”
“What would you do if I told you that I was pregnant tomorrow?” 
“I would ask you if you have been cheating on me with a man,” she replies instantly. You laugh, head falling forwards, resting on her shoulder. She runs her hands up your sides, fingers firm, thighs tensing underneath you. 
“But hypothetically. If it were possible,” you continue, a smirk working its way onto your lips, guilt forgotten. You may have spent your plane journey scrolling through pictures of Alexia with the various babies in your life. It was a self-indulgent act, and it has very much led you to now. 
Her eyebrows furrow with the adorable crinkle in between them, and she is seriously trying to work out if she is missing something. You go to London, you come back, you want a baby? 
But she loves you. And she is very intrigued. 
“Is it mine?” 
“Yes, it’s yours.” 
She watches the smirk on your face blossom into a smile, and she feels a matching one tug her lips upwards. “Is it going to support España or England?” The latter is pronounced in your accent, and you make a mental note to ask Jenni if she has been doing impressions of you to her teammates. 
“It can choose when it’s older,” you say, waving off her stupid football question. Since dating her, your interest in football has decreased. She has sort of put you off. You only really watch it to watch her now, or when United are playing an interesting game and your father is antsy enough to text you every minute. 
“No, it can’t.” You blink. She pulls you into her. “It chooses now. Spain or England, and Manchester United or Barcelona. There are right answers.” 
“Manches–”
“Wrong! I think I will have to make sure the baby is not brainwashed.” 
You panic for a moment. “Wait, you do know I’m not really pregnant, right?!” 
Alexia is not the most ready for children, but she is always prepared to give you everything you want. “If you want a baby, mi amor, let’s make a baby. Sin chicos.” You giggle coyly as she hoists you up – the display of strength exuding an unbearably sexy cockiness. “And after,” she says in between kisses as she stands, “we can look on the Internet for options.” 
“¡Vamos!”
The Barcelona women’s team congas its way back into the Home team changing room of the Joan Gamper, following a 7-0 win. Alexia kicked off the goal-laden game in the sixth minute, and she is on cloud nine. Victory is the sweetest taste in her mouth, and one where she knows you are watching is even better. 
Mapi flicks her shoulder as they dance to the music bursting from someone or other’s speaker. “You’re so happy,” she says, her grin wide and eyes shining. They dance topless, most of them, but Alexia has subtly been rushing to get dressed and find you. Barcelona is a beautiful city, and she has promised that you can take her to dinner somewhere now that your morning sickness has subsided and only started to affect you when it is supposed to. 
“We just won,” she explains over the shouts of joy from her teammates. 
María León joined from Atleti this season, but she has known Alexia longer than that, and she can tell when there is something more to football in her emotions. Though it is a well-kept secret, Alexia has two obsessions, and you are one of them. 
“Yo sé. But you have been very happy recently, in general. Except, you don’t come out for team nights or hang back to practise more after training, so it is definitely to do with Y/n.” Alexia’s absence in her teammates’ lives is actually unusual, seeing as you are very encouraging and a firm believer in the ‘work hard, play hard’ mentality. Your urging is what sends Alexia to bars and clubs with the girls, though she has neglected all of these outings ever since you showed her your positive pregnancy test (best belated birthday present ever). “So… what’s going on?” 
“You’re so nosy.” 
“I’m interested. I love her, and I want to know how she has made it so that you haven’t had a bad day for the last three months, even when we lost to Bilbao. Is it sex? Does she suffer through–”
“No!” Alexia interjects, cheeks reddening. Mapi smirks at the twenty-four-year-old, proud to have embarrassed her. She still claims that she is not a prude. Her phone buzzes on the bench – you’re asking how long she is going to take.
Mapi swipes Alexia’s clean clothes from her grip, holding them behind her back as she giggles at her friend’s exasperation. “Tell me, or go outside like that.” 
“Good thing it’s May,” Alexia shrugs, grabbing her phone and bag, knowing you won’t at all mind spending time with her in just her sports bra. She is pulled back by Mapi, who has hooked her finger into the waistband of Alexia’s shorts and yanked hard enough for them to have stretched. 
“Ale, tell me.” 
“No. You’re a gossip.” 
“I’m not a gossip.” 
“You so are.” 
“Am not.” 
“So it wasn’t you who told Leila about Patri’s crush when I made it clear that we weren’t even supposed to know?” Mapi shifts uncomfortably, letting go of the shorts. “And it definitely wasn’t you who let everyone find out about my engagement because you don’t know what an inside voice is?” 
“Hey, you never specified that you were going to be sneaky about it!” she defends, as she has done ever since the entire canteen went silent in shock and then, two seconds later, broke out into a clamour of pleas to be bridesmaids and to get Bad Bunny invited to the wedding. 
“It was implied,” Alexia shoots back with a glare. 
“Fine. Be annoying. I’ll just ask Y/n.” 
“She doesn’t want to talk to you. She’s got better things to do.” 
“Ouch,” Leila says, patting Mapi on the back as she shoves her way into the conversation. The two are partners in crime, and Alexia hates that she is now outnumbered. “But tell us. Please, Ale.” 
“We’ll even not nutmeg you for a week.” They love to try. It’s their highest priority mission.
“A month,” Alexia negotiates. 
“Yes! Just tell us.” 
“Y/n is pregnant.” Three months down the line is not necessarily when she wants to announce her personal business to the entirety of Spain, but you both know that it’s safe to tell people now.
Mapi laughs. “Ay, Alexia, you don’t have to lie to us.”
She looks at her friends blankly, having not expected this reaction. When she told her mother, the woman at least had it in her to take it seriously (albeit with quite the cautious ‘are you sure?’). “I’m not lying,” she then says, more to Leila than the giggling Mapi in front of her.
“You’re not…?” Leila tries, grappling with it. Two pairs of eyes drift down to Alexia’s crotch, squinting at the material as though some previously concealed appendage is going to jump out at them.  
Alexia clears her throat. 
“I’m sorry. How?!” 
“The normal way most lesbians–”
“She’s, like, actually pregnant? Like, de verdad, she is pregnant?” 
“Or she’s smuggling a lime under her shirt.” Her nod is small and she has the glimmer of a smile on her face despite Leila and Mapi’s gobsmacked expressions. Her phone buzzes: it’s you again. “And, if you two don’t mind, I don’t want to leave her waiting for me outside.” 
“Because she’s…” 
“Exactly.” 
When she finally escapes the changing room, she climbs into her car. With heartbreak from both you and your dad, you have sold your i8 in favour of getting Alexia a Land Rover. Most of your money is in savings. You earn loads, but it is hard to find things you want to spend it on, and a lot of it goes towards private jets to get you to and from Alexia. 
You are sitting in the passenger seat. “Jugaste bien,” you say as her hand moves up from its instinctive resting place on your thigh, settling on the growing swell of your stomach. “I’m so hungry. I could eat a horse.” 
“A horse?” 
“Or a house. Or, I don’t know, an entire cavalry. Feed me.” Her alarm — a mistranslation — causes her to almost run over the steward directing her out of the car park. “Tengo mucha hambre, Ale.” She nods with a roll of her eyes. She’s been warned about pregnant women. 
In the bustling excitement of Estadi Johan Cruyff, which has slowly filled with more and more fans in the time you have known the plastic seats and improving pitch, you find yourself in the midst of an unexpected turn of events. With your due date approaching and Alexia’s insistence that you are surely made of glass, you have been forced to part from your sisters (Gio and Anya) and live in Barcelona. She wants the baby to be born here. You’ve negotiated that the next one will be had in London. 
Alexia’s mother notices the deep breath you take in, well-acquainted with the horror on your face having worn that same expression twice before. ¿Estás bien?” she asks you, the steadiness of her voice comforting to the flurry inside your head. 
The whistle blows and the game kicks off. This can’t be happening now. 
It’s too early. There’s a… What are they called? Braxton-hicks? 
“Sí,” you affirm with a curt nod. The not-contraction doesn’t hurt that much, you tell yourself. You settle in the seat and focus on the match in front of you, using the rhythm of the crowd’s cheers (it can now be called a crowd!) to keep you grounded. With a reassuring smile, Eli offers you her hand. You take it and try not to crush her metacarpals. 
It’s definitely possible that you are in actual labour, considering the increasing intensity of your contractions, but you are not about to leave the match. Alexia would notice your absence. This game is important for her team – it’s the last before the Christmas break. 
At halftime, Eli quietly reassesses you, tricking you into seeing the team’s medic when guiding you to the ‘toilet’. Already briefed on the situation, the medic asks you a few questions in accented English, much like that of your newly trilingual fiancée. “Don’t tell her,” you beg quietly through a huffed sigh, gladly taking the seat offered to you. “I’ll wait until it’s finished.” 
“There is another hour left.” 
Your ears burn and another contraction shoots through you. You shake your head, fending off the pain while you do so. “He can’t be a Barcelona fan,” you insist. Eli grins at the knowledge that her first grandchild will be a boy, but you do not see it, too focused on convincing the medic to keep the child’s other mother in the dark about what is currently happening in the Barcelona medical room. “I’ll wait.” 
Eli hands you your phone per your request. You call Gio, whose daughter is only two months old. “Don’t tell me,” she starts when you fail to greet her. The sound of her voice, her accent, her tone is relieving, though you are incredibly grateful for the woman who continues to hold your hand as though you are her own daughter. “Nah, nah. Where are you? I’m gonna jump on a flight, alright? I’ll call Anya and we’ll be there soon.” 
“Don’t… rush,” you groan. 
“Babe, we are going to rush. Where are you?!” 
“A match!” You try to remember the breathing exercises you learnt for this exact moment. “Her match. Second half’s only just started. She… She doesn’t know.” 
Gio’s loud, boisterous laugh rings out, and you can tell that she is not at home. No one with a newborn baby can afford to make noise at that volume. “Fucking hell. Ever heard of sense?” You don’t respond, embarrassed that you are in too much pain to think of a comeback. “I’ve left Mia at my mum’s, so don’t you worry. Want me to bring anything from home? Cadbury’s, maybe?” 
“One of those massive bars?” 
“Yep, done deal.” She pauses. “Hey, babe, I’m gonna ring Anya now, alright? Call your mum – or your dad, if you two haven’t yet made up. I’ll see you soon. Tell Alexia her baby’s on the way!” 
Your protests are cut off by the final beep of her hanging up, and your head drops back as another contraction, your body squeezed as though some giant rubber band has just snapped back into place. Eli stands up, worried now. 
Before you can tell her that you are alright, a gush of water hits the sterile floor with an unnerving splatter. The prospect of having to care for another life suddenly becomes very real. “Tenemos que ir al hospital.” 
“No.” 
“Soy la abuela. Yo sé que hacer.” Even the medic, who has nervously stayed by your side, much more experienced with ACLs than broken waters (and stubborn pregnant women), looks intimidated by the firmness of Eli’s words. “Por favor”: she softens her blow. 
You glance around the room, slowly descending into agony and helpless against the wrath of rationality from your fiancée’s mother. “How long’s left of the match? ¿Cuántos minutos quedan?” 
The medic holds up all ten fingers. You grapple with your body, begging the baby to sit tight for a moment. “Let her finish. We can go when the whistle blows.”
Your contractions get closer together. 
Eli’s frustration leads her to ask God for the baby to not have inherited your stubbornness. She also loves you more for it; admiring your insistence to keep Alexia from missing everything. 
You don’t call your own mother. You simply type out a shaky text to the family group chat; blunt and to the point. ‘Baby. Now.’
Half of your universe storms the web, booking flights to Barcelona. Anya and Gio are almost at the airport already — a few steps ahead of your panicking parents and your brother, who has been enjoying dinner at the Savoy with his clients. Those who serve as your planets, revolving around you like you are the sun, do you a favour, letting Dave know that you probably won’t make it to the Skype call scheduled for tomorrow morning. Dave, in turn, now expanding into management, informs your newly-hired publicist (good riddance to the old one). The world has expected a pregnancy announcement ever since you failed to appear at your most recent awards show, despite winning in your category. 
It's almost an eternity later that Alexia, football boots clacking against the floor, flings open the door of the medical room. Eli calls out, warning her daughter about slipping on the sizable puddle that has spread out beneath you. 
Your fiancée is valiant in her attempt to mask her sheer panic. 
“Have you called an ambulance?” she asks her mother, stepping over your amniotic fluid and placing her hand on your shoulder. You squint, trying to open your eyes though this contraction has been the most excruciating so far. 
“We were waiting for you. She was adamant that you finished your match.” 
“No football match is more important than her!” If you understood Catalan (and weren’t in labour), you’d have teased her for being a sap. “Call an ambulance, Jesus Christ. Look at her — she needs a doctor.” Her composure revisits her fleetingly, and she turns to the medic. “Thank you for looking after her.” There is no answer because it is drowned out by her barking more orders her mother’s way. 
“No ambulance,” you declare before your mouth opens in a silent sob. “Drive me. Not an ambulance.” 
The last glimpse the Estadi Johan Cruyff gets of Alexia Putellas in 2018 is her carrying you to her mother’s car, your face buried in her team-issued jacket in case anyone is waiting outside to take pictures of the players. 
Eli drives; something she doesn’t like doing often but feels is necessary with the nervous bounce of her daughter’s legs in the backseat enough to convince her that they’d speed like the Flash if anyone else ended up behind the wheel. She knows Barcelona, can navigate it with her eyes closed, and you are at the hospital before you can begin to tell Alexia how much you think you can’t do this. 
“I really fucking can’t do this!” you cry out, situated in the delivery room. Sweat rolls down the side of your face, already dampening your hair. Alexia thinks you look beautiful, and she has been made proud of the last two hours. You’ve also helped her a lot with English swearwords. 
“You can.” 
“I can’t.” You’re told to push again. “Alexia, you are having the… next… fucking… beach ball.” Each word is punctuated by a guttural moan. 
Waves of intense pain contort your face in agony, and the midwife continues to talk you through your task as though instructing you how to park a car. “Estás haciendo muy bien, mi amor,” she tells you, ignoring the possibility that you may have rendered her left hand boneless. 
“There’s a baby coming out of my vagina,” you shout, “don’t even try to test my Spanish, you twat.” 
The midwife shoots your fiancée a pitiful look. “She’ll take it back,” she says in Catalan. 
“She’s getting quite inventive.” 
“There’s been worse.”
You can imagine the conversation taking place in the middle of you delivering her literal child. “No, I won’t! It’s breaking me in half.” You grip her hand harder. “Never. Again.” 
But, with a final, visceral (and heavily encouraged) push, the room is filled with the sound of life. Nico comes into the world screaming at the top of his lungs. All Alexia can think to say is, “definitely yours.” 
Life is a lot more tiring trying to juggle being a mother and a pop star. 
The press have a field day when you announce the birth of your son with a simple Instagram post, your engagement ring second only to the swaddled lump on your chest. The caption (‘ours’) sparks debate on who exactly is the other parent. Well, father. Alexia’s teammates, while waiting to finally be allowed to meet your bundle, spend a good two months teasing her mercilessly about it. Most notably, Alexia almost loses La Reina to Papi. 
2019 comes with change — a lot of it. 
You hire a new manager so that Dave can focus fully on the last album 2sday will produce. The group has been together for six years, and you have made your millions.You seek neither money nor fame, but it comes knocking on the door of your quaint apartment in Barcelona anyway, along with a record deal only for you. A solo act.
Between Nico crying, Alexia playing football, and you trying to write songs that don’t end up criminally depressing, the contract on your dining table slowly becomes forgotten about. Alexia is too stressed about the impending World Cup to grant you a moment to breathe. You spend your days in Barcelona with a baby attached to your hip, the question of his parenthood still a mystery to the public, and, ever so slowly, you begin to resent your life. 
It could be postpartum depression, but you have no time to really investigate the symptoms. 
Alexia, two weeks before she needs to leave for her national camp and then the World Cup in France, comes home to an eerily silent apartment. 
She calls out your name, wondering if you have perhaps gone to her mother’s house. The terrible sinking feeling comes with your reply. “Can we talk?” you ask. 
She finds you perched on the Egyptian cotton sheets that cover your double bed. The sheets are out of place here, greatly exceeding the original budget of the decor, and, where Alexia sees this as you adding to her life, you feel you are somewhere you don’t belong. It is fine when she is next to you, holding your hand, claiming the other half of the now six-month-old baby boy gurgling in his carseat. When she isn’t there, though, the vacant space taunts you. 
“I have no friends here,” you tell her quietly. The gravity of the mood settling over you pulls her onto the mattress, not caring if the sheen of sweat she wears as her outermost layer of clothing dirties the expensive creamy white beneath her. “I have no friends, I don’t speak the language, and I think that I have played at being a normal person for long enough. I mean, it’s great to watch you and to be there for you, but, darling, that’s not who I am. This,” you gesture to the loungewear you have on, stained with dribble, “is not who I am.” 
Alexia hears what you are saying. She understands; she remembers the nights where you’d call her, a cigarette rasping your voice, sparkles shining in the valley between your breasts. She has seen this coming. It would be impossible not to notice the dimming of such a strong love between you: still present, yet slowly fading away. 
“They want me to sign a new deal. Alone.” The suitcases lined up in the corner of the bedroom become glaringly obvious. Nico is in his carseat for a reason. “I think it would be good for me to go back to London. I need to feel like myself again, and my parents are willing to watch him. I sold my flat – I’ve bought a house in Highgate.” Tears sting your eyes as you speak, and you know where Alexia’s shoulder is without having to look, resting your head against it. “I love you. I love you so much, but I just can’t do this anymore.” 
It’s as if the ground crumbles away beneath her. Your words hang above Alexia’s neck like an axe, waiting to execute her, waiting to end everything. She can’t look at Nico, whose face crumples at his mother’s clear heartbreak. 
The world, once vibrant, lays in ruins. Her funny story from training dies on her tongue, and her question of whether you wanted to visit her mother before she left for camp disintegrates, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. 
“Do you still want to marry me?” she asks, and you hate the way her voice cracks with uncertainty. “Are you moving permanently?” 
“I haven’t called anything off. It’s still going ahead as planned.” She senses the but. “But I… I can’t think here. I can’t be here. I want – I need – to go home.” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
She is going to be at the World Cup anyway. You and her will always find your way back to each other. She is going to be busy. 
She is going to be busy. 
She is going to be busy. 
“Yeah. It’s okay. Take all the time you need.” 
She is going to fall apart without you. 
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wolfytae-exe · 7 months
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Ouija. (S) (A)
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summary: in which your boredom leads to stupid decisions and dangerous consequences.
warning: fear, anxiety, predator & prey, seance, dubcon, dacryphilia, breeding(?) kink, name-calling(cutie, darling, little human, dollface), degrading(slut, whore, nasty), sadism, forced orgasm, death, gore, marking(if you squint), praise at some point, jjun really enjoys the mcs pain, master kink, biting, aphrodisiac,
paring: Incubus! Yeonjun + afab! Reader
wc: 3.4k
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It’s cold; was October always this cold? You shiver in your living room, a mug of freshly brewed coffee steaming in between your sweater-pawed hands, allowing the apartment to smell like pumpkin spice.
Your TV replacing a fireplace and warm fairy lights are the only thing lighting the area around you as you relax on the couch, the cushions cold as you struggle to afford a heater.
You’re fresh out of school, majoring in linguistics had you living off waitress tips and your savings at the moment, but as badly as it stresses you out, you can’t help but feel content, affording yourself and your life is enough for you to enjoy your coffee and warm lights in autumn. Not to mention it’s your favorite time of the year, Halloween time.
You already had your Halloween candy out, sitting in a big bowl with purple and orange candies on it, waiting for the clock to strike midnight so you can enjoy Hallows Eve in the best fashion, an Ouija board. You knew there was no need to freak out, you messed with the board a couple of years back with a group of sophomore college students during a Halloween party, and the lack of movement in the planchette caused an embarrassment like no other that night.
with one last sip of your coffee, you checked your watch. 12:02 AM October 31, 2023, you sat up and set your coffee down grabbed the box holding the board, and placed it on your coffee table. With a sigh, you pulled the board and planchette out along with the instructions.
After glancing at the paper a shiver ran down your spine. ‘DO NOT USE ALONE.’ scribbled in bold all over the page, you couldn’t make out the other words all over it. “What kinda sick joke?” You muttered as you held up the planchette. It’s Halloween, this is supposed to be creepy, you told yourself before placing it on the board.
You placed your fingers in the planchette and took in a breath. “Is there anyone here with me?” You asked with a slight shake in your voice, anxiety racked you as the room dropped in temperature and the planchette began to move slowly. The sound of the wood rubbing made you want to let go, the planchette didn’t do this before, what the fuck what the actual fuck.
The circle of the planchette hovered over the word ‘YES.’ “O-Okay- Uh, are you nice?” You asked, knowing it was dumb to ask a spirit, why would it ever say it’s bad? The planchette didn’t move for a moment before moving to the letters. ‘H-U-N-G-R-Y’ You gulped, lump in your throat refusing to move. “I-I’m sorry about that uh- what’s your name? Who am I talking to?” You tried to change the topic as goosebumps rose on your skin from the cold.
The planchette didn’t move again for a moment before repeating itself. ‘H-U-N-G-R-Y’ then it moved again, staying on the Y extra long. ‘Y-E-O-N-J-U-N’ the planchette froze. “Is that Korean? But you speak English? Interesting..” You breathed. “What are you Yeonjun?” You asked, pronouncing the name to the best of your abilities as you were rusty in the language, your anxiety lessened the more interesting the spirit became.
The planchette moves. ‘D-E-M-O-N’ never mind, anxiety was back and stronger than before. “O-Oh.. And what do demons eat” You pant, actually terrified now as the planchette moves faster, more fluid, like the control wasn’t in your hands anymore. ‘L-E-T G-O- H-U-N-G-R-Y- L-E-T- Y-E-O-N-J- Y-/-N- D-E-M-O-I-N-C-U-B- L-E-T-G-O -H-U-N-G-R- GOODBYE.’
Your stomach dropped and you could no longer see, unsure whether to let go or not as your lights flickered and switched off, your teeth chattered as you shut your eyes and tried not to cry. “Yeonjun! I don’t understand!” You begged, knowing you weren’t going to get any answers, you were going to die. Your fingers slipped off the planchette, covering your ears as you couldn’t handle the silence.
Eventually, your light flickered back on and the board seemed fine, you seemed fine, you deducted from your ability to breathe, see, hear, and feel. “What the fuck..” You sighed before grabbing the planchette and board and putting it back in the box. Yeah, you were done, it’s time to sleep and throw that board away in the morning.
And that’s exactly what you did, you showered, changed into a warm hoodie and shorts, and tucked yourself right into your bed, ignoring the feeling of being watched and chalking it down to just being paranoid. It took you a while but you were able to put yourself to sleep.
Unbeknownst to you, however, you had a guest, a very hungry and awake guest. Yeonjun watched as you slept, tossing and turning every few minutes. God, he was starving, you looked so cute and tasty he just wanted to ravage you. Yeonjun hid in the shadows of your room a bit longer before giving in to his hunger.
As the demon moved into the light of your nightlight and onto your bed by your feet his clothes disappeared in the dark red smoke surrounding him. His eyes began to glow a sharp red, in contrast to his black hair as a long tail and sharp horn twisted from his lower back and hairline, the sound of his bones maneuvering and crunching to fit the additions along with a deep moan following it filled your room and invaded your dreams.
Your blanket moved over you, hovering over your frame, you curled up, whining before slowly opening your eyes to see why your warmth was gone. A scream left you fast, ringing loud into the room as red glowing eyes stared back from under your blanket, a grip on your hips coming quick, the feeling of the sharp nails causing a whimper to leave you. “P-Please..” You cried for your life, you’re too young to die. “Spare me please.” Tears fell from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks helplessly.
“Yeonjun please,” You knew using his name would do absolutely nothing. “So cute~” His voice rumbled from under the covers, a taunting purr etched into his tone. “You’re not dying yet, Y/N,” He wickedly chuckled. “You just have to feed me, and maybe I’ll let you live longer.” The eyes under the bed darkened, pupils in slits like cats and blood red in hunger.
“I-I- Anything please, I’m sorry I’ll feed you,” You pleaded, attempting to move only to yelp at his nails digging deeper into you, drawing blood. “Ow! I said yes! Yes! Let go please!” You panicked, kicking before the pain seeped into you deeper like you were being branded. “Ah- Stop!” You kicked harder but his grip never loosened. “I like it when humans fight~” A dark chuckle filled the room as he rose.
His horns being the first to catch your eyes, twisted and coiled into the sky, what you didn’t expect was his face, foxy eyes, and plump lips curled into a smile, he was beautiful. But the demon still had you pinned and in pain.
He rose higher, face to your chest and you noticed the bareness of him, his thighs brushing against yours. “Wh-“ You gasp out as you feel his hard cock pressing up against your clothes heat. Tears well up in your eyes again as he slowly ruts into you. “What- What are you..?” You whimper, too scared to let your voice go over a whisper.
Yeonjun cooed before pressing small kisses to your neck and cheek. “I told you,” you let out a sob as he spoke, a moan coming from in as a response. “I’m a demon, a very hungry one at that. An Incubus if you’re asking for my breed. Speaking of breeding.” He moans out, thrusting harder. A yelp leaves your lips as he grabs your hair, pulling back so you are level with him.
“You look so scared, but I can smell it, you’re so aroused~” He smiles, the red glint in his eyes lighting up at the way your legs shook under him. “That’s why you summoned me, isn’t it? You just wanna get dicked down, let go of all your stress?” You couldn’t respond, trying hard not to burst into more tears at the way his cock left you wanting more, wasn’t this assault? Why do you want him to stop and just fuck you already?
“Please… Stop- I don’t want this,” you plead, you knew you were lying, he knew you were lying, he’ll help you relax. “Shh, calm that pretty head little human.” the demon whispered before leaning in and kissing you, you fought, squeals leaving your throat as your hands lifted to hit him, only to be pulled back and pinned to the bed. A sob left you again, you wanted him to leave, you wanted to turn back time and never use that board again.
His tongue pushed through, long and snake-like, you could feel his saliva slide down your throat with ease, numbing the back of your tongue on the way down. Once he pulled away and took a good look at you he smiled. “Huening would eat you up, I’m so glad I answered you instead of that freak.” He knew you’d feel the effects soon, his saliva working as an aphrodisiac slowly but surely. “I got to you first and I don’t share my food.” His sharp tooth grin was the last thing you saw clearly.
Your mind almost instantly felt foggy before a pulse of pleasure shot through you. “Oh- God! What- What did you do to me?!” Your thighs attempted to slam shut on the demon, a rush of arousal ruining your panties. “God won’t save you, Y/N, you have to ask the devil for forgiveness this time.” The demon taunted as he watched your skin turn clammy, sweat dampening your forehead.
Your chest rose up and down, breathing uneasily. “I-It’s hot- ” You panted, the heat you wanted so much ran over your body in waves making you feel suffocated, the pressure in your lower tummy making your head spin. “Relax cutie, it’s just an aphrodisiac, don’t worry your pretty little head.” Yeonjun dipped down, head in between your neck now. You didn’t even feel him at first, mind blown over with disgusting, distasteful, explicit scenes.
“You’re so hot.” Yeonjun chuckled into your neck, licking and kissing at it before biting down, his sharp teeth ripping into your skin and holding on like a vice. You screamed, screamed like hell, there was no pleasure, no arousal; just raw searing pain. Hot tears ran down your face as you clawed the demon, you could feel your blood rushing out be wound like a broken dam, you could feel Yeonjun lap it up, moaning and growling at your taste.
When he finally pulled off his bloody face looked up in pure pleasure like your blood was his aphrodisiac. “Your soul will be such a nice dessert. I won the jackpot tonight.” All you could do was cry, blood stained your sheets and pillow, you couldn’t breathe and you felt like you were gonna die. That was until another wave of heat crashed over your body, you tensed, a whine ripping through your sobs as you felt the teeth marks on your neck closing up, skin building back fast and rough, stretching and burning until completely sealed into a scar of his bite. You were marked with his scent, with his life.
You could have sworn you blacked out, the pain becoming far too much to handle, too fragile as your heart beat fast, pumping back the blood you lost. By the time you came to, you were naked, sprawled out into a star shape, and unable to move. Yeonjun was nowhere to be found but the phantom of his bite and the tightness in your stomach lingered. A sob left you once more, unable to stop when the realization that this was all real crashed into you like a truck.
The more you moved your neck to see yourself, you realized how badly your body was used, bruises and bites riddled all over your arms and legs, scratches all over your torso, hips, and breasts. Your body burned, and arousal pooled under your ass as the aphrodisiac continued to move in waves, as disgusting as you felt you knew you needed Yeonjun. He did this to you, he knows you need him too, that’s why he left. You didn’t deserve this, everything was a mistake, you didn’t know an actual demon would be coming to torture and kill you, you just wanted to celebrate the spooky season.
“Why me..” You sobbed harder, tears rolling into your ears and hair. “Because you’re just so fun to play with darling~” You flinch, Yeonjun's voice vibrates through the walls, a rush of arousal and fear finds its way to you just at the sound of him.
“Stop this…Please..” You mutter helplessly. “But don’t you want my cock? Wanna be filled with my cum?” The demon taunted, still failing to show himself.
“I’ve cum so much in the time you’ve been out darling, your body is just so tasty I couldn’t help it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice before you see it, he’s crouching just at the foot of the bed watching your cunt push out more arousal. “Want me to fuck you?” He grins evilly, “Maybe I’ll keep you if you’re a good fuck, feed me so well.”
A whine leaves you at the thought of him splitting you open, nipples rubbing against one another as he thrusts, legs stretched wide and open for him to take you fully and completely. “Please- Yeonjun please-“ You needed him, needed him in you, anything to stop this sickening edge. “N-Need you-“ You whimper, as much as you wanted him you were terrified of what would happen afterward. You knew he’d kill you, but would it hurt, is it as painful as this? Is it as painful as knowing you’ll never see your friends and family again but all you can do is get dicked down beforehand.
Maybe this was a sign you were a shitty person after all, after the attempts to be a happy woman and live life to the fullest you still were horrible enough to suffer this way. “Get out of that pretty little head and look at me,” Yeonjun growled, eyes glowing in the darkness, his cock pushed against your folds so nicely, your slick way more than enough to help the stretch.
You let out a moan at the feeling of his cold cock, everything was cold about the demon, just another reminder he was anything but human. “Mmm so full already, you must not get good cock often.” The demon teased as he rubbed his cock against your sore clit. A whine was your only response, your hips unable to move. “Shh, Let master take care of you,” Yeonjun whispered before pushing in nice and slow.
“B-Big- too- Ah~ too much~” You moan out as the demon bottomed out into you. You were so close, so delirious, you could feel him everywhere. “Let me take over you, mmm yes~ Just like that, give in to me, melt under my cock.” Yeonjun growled as you clenched and shook. Slowly he dragged out of your soaked hole, letting the pull be nice and slow, he wanted you to feel it all, the veins, the way he emptied you and made you feel like nothing but a shell without his cock inside you.
“Please~ M-Mmmaster~ More please please please~ need you, nothing without your cock please-“ Your begging was cut fast as Yeonjun thrust himself right back into you, filling you so quickly you felt him in your throat. Your eyes rolled back as Yeonjun sped up, hitting that one spot that gave him such an incredible burst of energy. “You love master's cock huh? Say it! You love my cock don’t you?” Yeonjun’s hand found its way to your throat and his thrusts never slowed.
You were turned to mush, unable to even breathe as his hand tightened around your throat. Strained whines gargled from the back of your throat as you attempted to answer him. A loud “Nghh-yesss~“ left you as your toes curled and your pussy clenched around his cock that just would not stop ramming into the spongy part of your heat. Your orgasm hit like a truck, you couldn't hear or see Yeonjun anymore, and your body tingled like pins and needles pricked you all over.
It took a couple of seconds for your high to come down and soon you could see Yeonjun's changed, darkened, expression. He was still, staring at his fist that stayed closed slightly on your throat. Before you could draw in a breath, his eyes began to glow brighter, so bright you could make out the features on his face a lot better. They were sharper than before, his soft face long gone and replaced with the features of a true demon.
His cock stayed buried in your cunt, keeping you nice and full and his fist began to close tighter, causing panic to run through your veins and your lungs to burn as they pumped against each other fast for relief. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think, you were going to die; he was going to kill you, you knew it. “Did Master say you could cum?” His voice was rough and deeper than before, leaving your already sore cunt to clench around him again.
“Oh~ you like when master has to threaten your life?” Yeonjun growled, completely unamused. Soon enough when he could hear your heart pick up in pace he let go of your throat, watching you gasp and shudder for air. “Be a good slut and lay pretty.” He growls out before digging his claws into your hips and beginning to abuse your sore, overused cunt again.
Your mouth fell open, whines, squeals, and mewls pulled from your burning, dry throat as he thrust fast and hard without reprieve. “This the good fuck you wanted huh? Give you my hot cum before I take that soiled little soul of yours.” Yeonjun leaned down into your face, forehead pressed against yours as he moved his hands to wrap your legs around his waist. You sobbed in response, completely numb in your lower half. You didn't want to die at all, you’ve barely even hit your mid-twenties.
The sight had Yeonjun reeling, his long snake tongue slipping out to lick the big fat tears that ran down your face with a hum at the saltiness. “Keep crying dollface, you're so tasty when you're this scared.” The demon taunted before pressing kisses to the violated side of your complexion.
You whimpered, unable to handle the fear of the fact that he not only was going to kill you, but he was going to enjoy every bit of it and make you orgasm again in the process. “Ah- yeah suck me in like that~ bring yourself closer to your last breath.” He moaned with a chuckle at the end, “Make master cum in your needy pussy,” he continued before throwing his head back at the way you clenched tighter. “Yes- oh yes just like that- mm~ you're so good~” Yeonjun whined before his heavy hips stuttered and stilled deep in you.
More tears fell, sobs loud and broken as your throat couldn't take the torture. “Nononono- please nnnah~” you begged the demon not to cum, not to stop and end your life. Your wails and cries did nothing as he spilled more and more cum deep into you, coating your gummy walls in his hot sticky seed. “Ah~ Yes~” Yeonjun sighed at the release he felt before thrusting just a bit more to milk out more of his cum, a ring of your creamy orgasms mixed against his balls.
“Mmm~ all done, dollface~” Yeonjun smirked as he watched you pant and scream for help. “Ngh~ yes keep begging, feels so good~” Yeonjun moaned out before pressing kisses against your jaw and cheek. “Wanna live! Please- I wanna live!” You begged him and turned your head to face him. “So cute~ But my mind is made up.” Yeonjun smiled before his jaw opened up wide and inhumanely.
You attempted to scream again, fear being the last emotion you felt as his chest puffed slightly, and your breath left you once again. You could feel your heart slow and your veins slowly rub against each other as your skin grayed out. You couldn't move or speak, just watch with teary eyes as he slurped up a wispy, white, and smoke-like ball. The moment he swallowed he pulled out of your mummified corpse, feeling full and satisfied. “Tasty to the end.” Yeonjun sighed before disappearing under those pesky covers.
it's cold
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okay, I had to repost this so it could get out there. If this doesn't fix the issue I don't know what will to be honest.
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pupyuj · 6 months
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→ “body party.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.
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— a cute girl approaches you about your workout routine in your favorite gym in town, and then very strange but sexy events follow...
word count: 8.7k.
dynamic: dom!bimbo!ahn yujin x sub!gym rat!reader.
content warning: smut, unnie kink?, masturbation, shower sssex 😵‍💫, fingering, oral, cunnilingus, semi-exhibitionism, voyeurism, body worship, nipple play, oral fixation, (legal!!) age gap, implied piss kink (yeah i'm serious).
requested? : nope. (just me being a whore for yuj again...)
a/n: the lack of yujin gym content while knowing full well that she's a gym rat should be a federal crime.. starship entertainment are you ready to die . anyway, SHE'S FREEEE!!! soooo sorry this took literally FOREVER ya'll but i'm happy i'm finally letting her out the drafts!! i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope ya'll enjoy it!! 💙💙 apologies for any mistakes tho,, I GOTTA GO TO CLASS—
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ahn yujin didn’t know what to expect when she entered the gym after weeks of burying herself in her homework, but she certainly didn’t expect to meet a sickeningly pretty and ferociously sexy girl like you.
yujin knew she had to fuck you the moment she laid eyes on you in the changing rooms. you appeared to have just finished working out, judging by your damp hair and the fresh set of clothes you were wearing. yujin had to be discreet with the way she was checking you out considering that you were sitting on a bench only a few ways away from her locker, so she should at least be looking at you from the corner of her eye but she didn’t even try to! she was completely mesmerized by your toned body, sculpted to perfection by nobody but yourself… yujin could swear she was drooling as her eyes locked onto your abs, so inviting…
if she had a dick, she would definitely be hard.
you were wearing a simple crop top with sweatpants and a jacket but god, yujin has never seen a finer woman in her whole twenty years of living. the headphones around your neck wasn’t helping either — you were by far the most attractive girl in town, and yujin has seen a lot of pretty girls!
yujin didn’t know you. she was pretty sure this was the first time she has ever seen you, but oh god that thoughts that ran through her mind… surely you would run away from her if she let you hear about them. she couldn’t stop looking at your face, her pussy clenching at the way you bit your lip and swiped your tongue across them. a part yujin wanted to approach you right now, but you looked like you were tending to something important on your phone. what would she even say? right now, yujin just had this raging urge to bend you over the bench you were sitting on and make you scream her name until it was the only thing you could say—
suddenly, you got up from your seat, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder and smiled. at yujin. pause. oh good god, you were looking at her.
“see you later.” you said before swiftly turning on your heel and exiting the changing room, bidding goodbye to everyone else as well. yujin was blushing so hard. she had to keep herself from running and jumping around the changing rooms. did you have to sound so cute too?! yujin swore she almost chased after you and asked for your number, but she knew she would have looked stupid.
“why do you look like you’re about to explode?” yujin’s friend, gaeul, has finally entered the changing rooms with another friend in tow, jiwon.
yujin bites her lip, “hottest girl in town told me that she will ‘see me later’.” she was giggling, earning a few strange looks from the other girls in the room.
“that’s weird. i haven’t said anything to you yet.” wonyoung, who has apparently been in the room this entire time, says while filing her already-perfect nails. 
yujin rolled her eyes at her friend before taking her hand and pulling her up from her seat, patting her ass, “let’s workout!”
it should be noted that you were in yujin’s head the entire day. she couldn’t do her routine properly because she was imagining your pretty face in between her legs… she almost fell off the treadmill for that exact reason. gaeul scolded her for nearly dropping a dumbbell on her own feet, because yujin had been busy drooling while remembering how your ass looked like it would be perfect to have in her hands. needless to say, yujin was very infatuated. there weren’t enough words in the world to express just how much she wanted you!
yujin was thinking about you even after she left the gym. she was thinking about you while she was walking her dog, while she was cooking dinner, while she was eating said dinner, while she was in her bathtub, while she was watching a cool new movie on netflix, and then… while she was trying to fall asleep. actually, she was just laying down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. and then, she slid her hand inside her pants, and started rubbing her pussy at the thought of you. it was actually unbelievable how a stranger she only saw for less than five minutes could have this much of an effect on her.
yujin fingered herself like she had never done before—playing with her clit with her own thumb, moaning so loud, bucking her hips into her own hand… hugging her pillow tightly to muffle her moans at least a little bit. but she kept going, she couldn’t stop. yujin made a mental note to approach you as soon as she sees you. and fuck, she was going to make sure that the next time she goes to the gym, she was going to get laid.
then, lo and behold, yujin’s wishes came true when she spotted you entering the gym as she was parking her car. gosh, your ass looked so good in those leggings. yujin couldn’t wait to just put her hands on you and give you the best fuck of your life. and yes, she was confident because she had quite the reputation in this gym, in this town. yujin was not only good at sex, she was fucking amazing. and she had no doubts that she would have you begging for her to make you come again by the end of this entire thing.
but first, yujin has to find a way to approach you without coming on too strong. that might have worked to the other girls she has hooked up with in this gym, mostly because they were just as much of a whore as yujin was, but she had a feeling that you were a girl with some sense of class. as much as yujin hated taking things slow especially when all she really wanted was to fuck, the idea of getting you to submit to her after she was done being all romantic sounded very enticing.
yujin watched as you talked to the male receptionist behind the counter. he was blushing, he was stuttering, and yujin figured that he must have been a part-timer because he looked young and hormonal. yujin grimaced as the boy tripped over his words and bit his tongue a few times as you made small talk with him. the slightly older other receptionist stared as the young boy sweats profusely at your presence—you had that effect on everybody, apparently. yujin crosses her arms, not at all a fan of the way the boy’s eyes lingered on your ass as you turned to enter the gym.
gross.
granted, yujin has done the same and has thought worse things about you but see, it was way different!
yujin trailed behind you as the two of you both made your way towards the locker room. everybody was staring at you, and then at yujin. a few girls waved at her, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, except for the times when she would side eye a few men that looked at you in a way she didn’t like. god, yujin just had this urge to grab you right there and bend you over a barbell bench and show everyone that nobody will be able to make you feel as good as she can.
upon entering the locker room, yujin makes eye contact with wonyoung, who has once again somehow managed to arrive earlier than everyone else. and it seems like she had brought jiwon along with her. there were definitely doing something they shouldn’t have been doing together considering the way they jolted away from each other like they were shocked when yujin, as well as yourself, entered the room. you smiled and greeted the two girls before opening up your usual locker.
yujin’s eyes flicker over to your ass before she busies herself with her bag. of course, wonyoung and jiwon notice this and they approach her about it!
“real subtle, unnie.” wonyoung whispered, a smirk dancing on her lips as she watched yujin roll her eyes.
“we were calling you last night, you know,” jiwon said. “wonyoung and i went out for a little midnight mcdonald’s run and we were going to ask if you wanted anything but you must’ve gone to sleep early.”
yujin chuckled, “oh, i was awake. but my phone was on silent.” she bites her lip, remembering all of the nasty things she thought about you when she touched herself last night. having known yujin since they were little children, wonyoung had this special and amazing ability to be somehow in sync with her mind, figuratively of course, so she immediately knew what yujin had meant by that. the older girl spent the entire day ogling at you after all, what else could she have done when she got home?
“huh… were you busy?” jiwon asked, scratching her head. 
wonyoung pats her friend’s back and sighed, “i think it’s best that you don’t know, jiwonie.”
“saying that as if i didn’t just catch the two of you on the verge of pouncing on each other.” yujin bites back, and judging by the way, jiwon’s face flushed and her eyes started darting everywhere, her suspicions were right!
a locker closes, making the girls turn their head towards your direction. you give them a brief smile before exiting the room, humming to a beat and all. wonyoung herself couldn’t help but whistle at the sight of your perfect ass, thank goodness you were wearing your headphones as you left, or else yujin would’ve had to smack her friend upside in the head. even jiwon was seemingly mesmerized by your amazing body—yujin knew she wasn’t alone in all of this!
“i’m going to fuck her.” yujin said. wonyoung looked unfazed by her proposal, meanwhile jiwon’s face had warmed up at the thought. jiwon had known about yujin’s awful habit of fucking every girl she encounters anywhere, especially in the gym, but she hadn’t seen her in action just yet! she has only heard stories from wonyoung and gaeul—stories that made her want to shrink onto herself because of how flustered she got from the things yujin has done.
“she looks like a challenge, unnie. good luck.” wonyoung said, patting the older girl’s arm before taking jiwon’s hand and leaving the locker room.
a challenge, they say? well! if yujin was good at anything, other than fucking, it was having more guts than anyone and taking a leap of faith. she knew she was hot, she knew she was pretty, and she most definitely knew you were gay as hell—she can do anything! with a huff and an encouraging enough pat on the back (given by herself, yes), yujin leaves the changing rooms with a smile on her face, thinking up of a plan to approach you and to slowly make you submit to her. jiwon and wonyoung were occupying some treadmills, chatting amongst each other. maybe even flirting! neither of them have been slick after all.
yujin spots you only a few steps away from wonyoung and jiwon. you were also on a treadmill, walking at a steady pace and eyes glued towards the small screen that played your favorite television show from the early 2010’s. yujin tilts her head, smiling at the way you were so focused on the show that you nearly tripped. you were quick to catch yourself and keep on walking like nothing happened though, to which yujin chuckled lightly before someone—a man!—tapped you on the shoulder and caught your attention. the man was only asking if you were okay but nobody could blame yujin for seeing red because he was not making his interest in your tits subtle at all!
god, if yujin could make that man explode with her mind, she totally would.
“oh, i know that look,” gaeul, who just arrived inside the facility, said with a smirk. she lifted her sunglasses up and wriggled her eyebrows towards yujin. “what’s the plan?” she asked, nudging her friend with her elbow.
“it doesn’t involve you, unnie.” yujin replied. gaeul waved at wonyoung and jiwon before patting yujin’s bum and walking away with a wink. the younger girl sighed and looked at you again. thankfully enough, the man has left you all alone and you were once again focused on your television show. yujin scans the entire room—nearly everybody looks at your direction every now and then. eyes raking all over your body, captivated by your beauty the same way yujin was when she first saw you. all of these people wanted you, but yujin was going to make sure that she was the only one out of all of them that will have you.
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see, not a lot of people approached you. and you didn’t know whether it was because you looked intimidating or if you gave off some sort of bad vibes, but a lot of the folks that frequent the gym just don’t seem to be very fond of talking to you, which explains the countless times you have tried chatting with someone and they suddenly start acting like they didn’t know how to hold a conversation. you grew fond of the people that did try to interact with you, but immediately lost affection for them the moment you figured out that all they wanted was your body.
as in, they wanted to fuck you.
like this girl. ahn yujin, she introduced herself. or was that her name? you couldn’t really remember. you logged out of the conversation when you took notice of the way her eyes could not at all stop roaming all over your body. see, if it were anyone else, you would have smiled and made up some sort of excuse to walk away from them, but something about this girl made you stand idly by the stepmill and listen to her. maybe it was the dimples, the frequent lip-licking, the attractive sounds of her laughs, the eye-smile, but god, you absolutely just went dumb for this girl.
what were the two of you even talking about? you had no idea. all you were thinking about was the many times you’ve seen this gorgeous girl before but never once thought to talk to her. in your head, you thought she would have acted like everyone else did but if you knew that she had this much interest in you then you would have entertained her much, much earlier.
while yujin talked, you let your eyes not-so-discreetly wander. she was taller than you, and no doubt stronger than you by the way her arms were built. you couldn’t look away from her abs, which was weird considering you had some of your own and yet, it was hers you were currently obsessing over. jesus christ, she was so hot. and so fucking charming! as much as you were aware of her not-very-subtle pick-up technique, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for it. she giggled every second, winked every now and then, and you blushed at every single action.
you probably looked like an awestruck dumbass to everyone else right now. but the men around could use this wake-up call. you were only interested in women. tall, tan, and ridiculously handsome women who had ways to talk themselves into a girl’s pants.
“do you think you could give me some pointers, unnie?” yujin smiles sweetly, tilting her head and showing off those cute dimples.
you blinked, realizing that you did not hear a single word of what she said at all. “s-sure! sure, i could. of course.” you answered, clearing your throat right after. yujin eyes shined with pure excitement and you found it so adorable that you couldn’t help but smile brightly at her. you knew damn well that she was spitting bullshit but listen, you were a simple woman!
pretty girl. have to kiss. maybe even fuck—
“so, how do i use this thing?” yujin pats the stepmill, looking at it curiously. you were so sure that you saw her using this exact machine some days ago. regardless, you taught her how to use the machine, talking on and on about specific things. you thought that yujin would get bored of you rambling about a stupid gym equipment but when you looked at her, she was intently staring, absorbing each and every word you were saying. and it was this moment when you thought that maybe she isn’t all bad!
(“she has to be joking right now,” wonyoung said as she stared incredulously at you and yujin. “is she seriously expecting a girl that hot and smart to fall for her usual antics?”
“yeah. i mean, she is yujin.” gaeul replied, smiling proudly when yujin asking the dumbest question actually got you to look at and talk to her.
“i’m not sure if the stupidity is an act anymore…” wonyoung sighed, shaking her head. jiwon was happy for yujin, actually! she was smiling as she watched you and her interact. sure, it was dumb but yujin surely did have her ways. maybe jiwon should write down some notes…)
you and yujin proceeded to chat about your workout routine as she busied herself with the stepmill. you told her everything—your warm-ups, your more intense workouts, the exercises you do when you can’t make it to the gym, your diet—and yujin never failed to listen. your heart warmed up at the gesture. nobody really listens to you ramble on for that long about that part of your life without dismissing you or switching to another topic entirely. you decided that you liked yujin! she seemed like a nice enough girl, and she was very, very pleasing to look at too.
it felt good to have a friend who would listen to your nonsense like this. well, she wasn’t really a friend yet. of course not. you weren’t stupid—you just met! but perhaps the lust you noticed in her eyes before was all in your imagination. just because everyone in the gym viewed you as some prize to be won didn’t mean she thought that too. or that was what you hoped, at least.
(you are so goddamn naive.)
“ah, sorry. i have to take this call.” you excused yourself out of the conversation and went to some corner to answer a call from one of your friends.
(back on the stepmill, yujin shoots a look towards wonyoung, gaeul, and jiwon, winking at them and shaking her shoulders in celebration. gaeul claps silently wearing a proud grin and all, jiwon shoots her two thumbs ups, while wonyoung rolled her eyes in annoyance. no doubt yujin was going to be annoying about her stupid plan working. in response to wonyoung’s attitude, yujin gives her a kiss in the air, making the younger girl grimace and look away.
“so bitter. all she has to do pay me is twenty bucks, geez.” yujin muttered under her breath.)
after a few minutes or so, you came back to yujin who was now off the stepmill, thinking that she had had enough of the machine for the day. “thanks a lot for the tips, unnie. i think i should know what to do with my time here now.” yujin says. again, you knew she had a routine of her own—and a pretty complicated one at that! so you didn’t know what exactly she was thanking you for.
nevertheless, you shot her a smile back. “no worries, yujin-ah.”
yujin couldn’t help but blush, but she was quick to cover up her bashfulness with a bold statement. bold in your standards anyway. “you’re sweet, unnie. could i have your number?” bold, because nobody in this damn place never knew how to hold a conversation with you, let alone work up the courage to ask for your number after only a solid few minutes of useless talking! 
“it’s not everyday you meet decent people at the gym, you know?” yujin steps forward, tilting her head and blinking at you innocently. “maybe we can even hang out somewhere else! i think you’re great, unnie.” she says, a sheepish smile gracing her features. oh, she really has charmed you. because before you knew it, you had her phone in your hands and you were typing down your number on it. she probably meant it as friends, right? right? yeah, probably.
“thank you.” yujin says when you return her phone to her. she stares at her screen for a bit, pretty eyes fluttering back up to glance at you for a second, before she starts typing. no doubt to send you a quick message so you could save her number on your phone. you felt your device vibrate in your pocket but you don’t bother to pull it out.
“oh, are you leaving early today, unnie?” yujin asks as you pick your water bottle up from the ground. you noticed the pout on her lips when you stood back up, and it made you smile a little.
you nodded, “yeah. i made some plans with a friend today, that ought to be fun.”
“aw. i guess i’ll just see you tomorrow, then?” yujin truly did sound disappointed. you almost wanted to ditch whatever plans you had, but you weren’t that kind of friend. you would never cancel plans just to spend time with some stranger from the gym! (you weren’t that kind of friend, yet.)
“mhm. i’m always here anyway. either to do some work or to just visit. some of the staff are my friends,” you grinned and waved at the cute female employee in the distance. yewon, as her name tag showed, waved back at you before doing whatever chore she was doing. “it was nice meeting you, yujin-ah.” you pat the girl’s arm before walking past her and approaching yewon, who took out one of her earbuds and started chatting with you.
however, during the entire time you were chatting with yewon about your plans (the very same plans she was to join later), your eyes couldn’t help but wander. away from your friend and towards the direction of one ahn yujin, who was now busy talking and laughing with her own friends. it seems like she couldn’t help herself from looking at you too. the two of you shared glances and small smiles as you talked with your respective friends. of course yewon wasn’t stupid, she noticed how your eyes never focused on her.
“what happened to never making friends with the people in the gym, (y/n)?” she asked, crossing her arms. “or will she become something more, i wonder?” yewon teased, nudging your arm and everything while wearing a smirk on her cute face.
you blinked innocently at your friend. “what do you mean?” you knew damn well what she meant! a girl as pretty as yujin staying solely as friends with you? why, that was akin to saying that hell would eventually freeze over! yewon rolls her eyes at you and walked away, saying something about doing her job and updating you of her plans later. when she left you on your lonesome, you started walking back to the changing rooms.
and of course, you spared one last glance at yujin. and it turns out that she had been looking at you the entire time.
she smiles, you do the same. and despite your resistance, your heart skips a beat.
something more, yewon said! well, after seeing those abs and dimples up close, you sure hope so.
you ended up taking a shower in the changing rooms with a bright smile on your face, thrilled for the new and exciting adventure you might have with your new ‘friend’.
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for the past few days, everything you have been doing, you’ve been doing it with yujin. but in the gym, of course. you’ve told her about your usual routine so she started following it, you take breaks from workouts together, and you talk a lot in the changing rooms before and after working out! you even got to know yujin’s friends a bit as well! other than yujin herself, jiwon might be your favorite in the little group as you often find yourself smiling and waving at her whenever you see her. but you’ve tried toning the smiles down a bit after wonyoung sent a glare your way one time. but yujin reassured you that wonyoung doesn’t hold any negative feelings about you—she was just naturally overprotective of jiwon considering wonyoung has been crushing on her for the longest time.
anyway, yujin’s friends were lovely. yujin herself was lovely. you were glad to be friends with her.
in fact, you’ve become so close that you eventually wanted to hang out with her outside of the gym! fortunately enough, yujin liked you to the point where she agreed to do whatever you want! from brunches, to visiting exhibits and aquariums, going to concerts—everything! yujin quickly became one of your best friends, but one could say that the two of you are too close. or at least that was what umji told you.
“just be careful, (y/n). people you meet in the gym have a track record of being, well, not very good!”
she was referring to your exes, but it wasn’t like you were planning on dating yujin! nor were you planning on liking her like that. ahn yujin was simply your friend. your criminally attractive friend who makes shameless comments about how hot she finds you and always seems to have her hands on you. like now, at this present time, she has an arm around your shoulders as the two of you watched a cartoon that only aired early in the mornings on your living room couch.
the two of you have become comfortable enough to be affectionate like this but recently, you’ve noticed that there’s been something in the air. and you weren’t stupid. you knew all about sexual tension but this one was simply ridiculous—it was off the charts! in your head, you blamed yujin for being so unfairly hot and charming. every cheeky grin, smirk, and wink sent your mind into a frenzy and before you knew it, she was all you thought about as you lay in your bed at night!
“the girls and i are planning on going to that fair later in the week. will you and umji-unnie be there?” yujin asked, shiny eyes landing right on yours. she realizes that you’ve been staring at her and laughed lightly, but chose not to address it since you’ve looked away with your cheeks burning. it was a normal occurrence at this point. it happens to yujin sometimes too but instead of getting caught staring at your face, it was your ass. or boobs depending on which private part of yours she chooses to drool over for the day. you try to tease her about it when you do catch her but yujin always finds a way to smooth-talk her way out of scrutiny.
damn her and wits.
“i think so. umji’s girlfriend has been waiting for that fair since she missed it last year so umji is legally obligated to go. and that automatically means that i’m tagging along.” you pulled out your phone from your sweater pocket and looked at the time. 8:43. you and yujin were going to drive to the gym soon.
“you’d willingly third-wheel? god, i refuse to be around jiwon and wonyoung unless gaeul-unnie was with me. they aren’t dating but they sure can be some saps.” yujin sighs, playfully rolling her eyes at the memory of her two best friends always playing push-and-pull with their feelings for each other.
“i won’t be third-wheeling if we just leave the lovebirds and go on our own adventure,” you tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing as much as you could but if yujin was able to see through you, you wouldn’t be surprised. “with gaeul too.”
“nah, forget about unnie. i bet she’d love to be alone. she’s kind of weird sometimes,” yujin smiles at you. that same charming smile she always shot your way since the day she approached you. so handsome. “we should definitely just go together.” you didn’t get to say anything else because an alarm in your phone went off and yujin stood up. if you give in to your delusions enough, you could see that yujin was smiling a little bit because of your statement.
you turned off your tv and followed yujin to the door, where she was putting her shoes on and swiping her keys from some hooks on the wall. now you finally have use for that thing. after you’ve grabbed your bag, yujin opens the door for you and you walk out, relishing in the feeling of the chill morning air kissing your skin as you walk down the steps of your front porch. yujin locks your door and tosses the key over to you, and you catch it effortlessly, to which she whistles at. apparently, that was attractive.
yujin was to drive both of you to the gym today. it was a thing she always did on wednesdays. you don’t know why wednesdays specifically but they happen to be your lazy days so you were thankful for the sentiment. you settled yourself in the passenger seat and managed to snatch the bluetooth connection before yujin did, sticking your tongue out at her when you did and earning an eye roll.
when yujin pulled out of your driveway, you were so sure that it was just going to be another day with her. but you should’ve known otherwise when she put her hand on your thigh and caressed your skin with her thumb as she drove down the road with a small smile on her lips.
at that time, you didn’t know yet but yujin was going to make your week significantly better!
you started your usual routine when the two of you arrived in the gym: make small talk with the receptionists and umji, greet everybody around, head into the locker rooms to change into your usual workout attire, and start your day! and see, for the most part, the usual was what happened, you know? you and yujin did the same exact workouts, never left each other’s side as well as sights—even when yujin’s friends arrived the two of you were attached by the hip! gaeul had been smiling strangely at you the entire time she talked with you for a bit, so that made you believe yujin’s statement about gaeul being weird at times. and from behind gaeul, jiwon and wonyoung were up to their usual will-they, won’t-they antics. totally normal.
it wasn’t until some guy somehow gathered the courage to strike up a conversation with you when things took a weird turn.
you knew your way around men in the gym but for the first time, none of your evasive maneuvers were working. laughing and smiling did you not work, you actually had to say more than a few words to the guy. excusing yourself out of the conversion did not work because when you came back from whatever lie you told, the guy talked to you again! not finding it in you to avoid him any longer, you opted to stand there and listen to him go on and on about his adventures in this gym. of course, you had to share your stories too and you know what, you were actually starting to get interested in the topic.
the guy seemed genuine enough. no ulterior motives whatsoever. all smiles and eyes focused on yours the entire ti—did he just touch your waist?
ah, it was too good to be true. you should’ve known men were never going to be normal about you!
yujin apparently did, however, because the moment she saw you freeze up, she bolted to where you were standing and swatted the man’s hand away from you.
“whoa, easy. i was just—”
“just being a massive pervert. i know. screw off, fucker.”
yujin doesn’t even wait until the guy walks off to drag you somewhere far away from him. she glares at anybody who stared at the scene and stopped walking when the two of you reached the stepmills. she was fuming—eyebrows furrowed deeply, her normally soft brown eyes looked at you harshly. a heavy sigh escaped her lips and she turned her head away. it wasn’t until you tilted your head to look at her that she finally calmed down. from the distance, you could see her friends staring. wonyoung was seemingly surprised at what went down, jiwon was clearly concerned for you, and gaeul looked like she was already planning on poking holes at the guy’s tires as soon as she could.
yujin huffs, pouting at you. “that’s why you should stop entertaining the people here, unnie.”
“i entertained you. look where that got me.” you said with a smile. and well, yujin was smarter than she looked! she knew exactly what you meant; how you were aware of her intentions then and now. suddenly, her mouth was clamped shut. she looked guilty, almost ashamed. but she doesn’t say anything after that, merely muttering about punching that guy before continuing on with her routine. you don’t know why, but it was awkward after that. yujin couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at you but when she did, you could feel it. you always get chills, the good kind, whenever she stares at you so you just knew.
eventually, you wanted a break. so you briefly stepped outside for some fresh air. the breeze felt cool against your damp skin. you stretched out your sore legs and arms, you were surprisingly already tired despite having only been working out for a short while. clear proof that talking and being around men was an energy-drainer. maybe you should really take a page out of yujin’s book and pretend that they don’t exist entirely. speaking of yujin, you wondered if yoju actually hurt her in some way. it’s not like you were condemning her for having ulterior motives when she first talked to you, you did feel and were thinking the same things for her back then. so in conclusion, both of you were perverts.
“unnie.”
a blueberry yogurt juice box, your favorite among the variety of flavors they offer in the gym vending machines, enters your vision. you turned your head and there yujin was with a bashful look on her face.
“that really bummed me out. we should just call it a day.” she says, pouting. you accepted the juice box, chuckling slightly at her for being so cute.
now, you don’t know what came over you but at that moment, yujin looked so damn delicious with her protruding muscles, her bangs sticking to her forehead, and droplets of sweat running down her neck that you couldn’t help but be brave. you stood closer to her, one would say almost too close, and tilted your head, eyes flickering down to her inviting lips. “should we hit the showers then, yujin-ah?” you asked and god, you were practically eyefucking her.
yujin doesn’t seem fazed by your sudden confidence at all. she merely takes a cautious sideways glance before leaning close to your ear, lips dangerously close to your neck, making you shiver. “i was wondering when you were going to let me fuck you, unnie.” she whispered, smirking because she knew just how you were feeling considering you slightly pushed her away and covered your face with the juice box she gave you. she was too darn handsome. it was bold of you to think that you could make her feel flustered when she basically knows what always works with girls.
you take yujin’s wrist with your hand and she allows you to drag her back inside the gym. you avoided stopping for small talk. actually, you avoided looking at anybody else entirely! and as soon as the doors to the changing rooms closed, yujin’s hands were all over you. you grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head before you kissed her. she presses your back against the cool metal lockers, making you whimper and giving her the perfect opportunity to insert her tongue inside your mouth. she unzips your thin jacket and pulls up your top along with your bra, her hands immediately getting busy with your breasts.
you bucked your hips against her pelvis desperately, but yujin ignored you. opting to break the kiss and take one of your nipples inside her mouth instead, running her tongue over the hard bud and sucking on it while pinching and squeezing the other one. but it doesn’t take long for her other hand to slowly make its descent down your body, feeling your stomach a bit, before slipping inside your leggings, teasing your sensitive clit through the fabric of your panties.
“mhmn… yujin.. more.”
that was all yujin needed before she stripped you down to only your panties. she takes a minute to observe your body, eyes shining with pure lust as well as appreciation before tugging you towards the showers. fortunately enough, it was empty so yujin took you to the nearest stall and didn't waste any time before pinning you against the door and kissing you again. you pulled off her ponytail and threw it away to some unknown corner, letting her gorgeous hair cascade down to her shoulders. you cupped her cheeks with your hands, pulling away slightly and pecking her lips softly, earning a giggle from her.
you pecked her lips again, and again, and every time, she would smile. yujin kissed you again, she was more gentle and careful this time… until she nearly ripped your panties when she pulled it off of you. “get in, unnie.” yujin said, giving you a kiss on your cheek and a pat on your ass before nodding her head towards the shower. yujin starts stripping herself down while you turn the faucet on, sighing contentedly as the cool water meets your skin. goosebumps grow all over your skin, but were completely erased when you felt strong arms wrap around your body.
yujin was warm. from the way she smiled at you, talked to you, treated you, kissed you, and now, the way she held you. her hands explored your body as she softly kissed your neck, “have i told you how perfect i find you, unnie?” yujin runs a hand across your breasts, glides it down to your stomach and all the way down to your inner thighs before making its way around your thighs and back up your waist. 
“you’re kind, you’re sweet… you’re exactly the type of person people would wanna bring home to their parents,” yujin turns you around, moving your wet hair behind your back and smiling at you when you cupped her cheeks again. you pull her closer, hungry for her lips. it was as if all you wanted to do was kissing her until you were sick of it—as if you would get sick of it though. “and fuck, you’re so hot.” yujin bites her lip before finally giving you what you had been craving for. this kiss had the equal amount of tenderness and passion, both immediately getting taken over by pure desire when yujin’s lips start leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline to your neck.
warmth blooms across your chest as yujin takes her time leaving carefully-placed marks all over your skin. sucking and licking wherever she felt was perfect until she eventually leaned back to stare at her work, “beautiful.” and she continues to use her lips as she lowered herself to the ground, leaving a few hickeys on your chest, your breasts, your stomach, and finally, your thighs.
“open up for me, unnie. i want to see you.” and so you do.
yujin licks her lips before kissing up to your inner thighs. you couldn’t help but put a hand on her head, staring down at her with pleading eyes, desperate for her to just get it over with and make you see the stars. you were lucky enough that yujin couldn’t find it in herself to tease you. surely after months of wooing you and playing with your head she would be exhausted from all the games, and thankfully she was! yujin leans in and gives your pussy one long lick, making you whimper and grip her hair just a little bit tighter. you could see her smile at you before she proceeds on eating you out.
clearly, this wasn’t yujin’s first time. maybe on her knees, yes. she, as well as her friends, have told you countless stories of how addicted she really was to eating pussy and you could see it clearly here. yujin, with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes shut tight while she makes a mess of her pretty face by slobbering all over your cunt. like a fucking dog. you pull and tug at her hair, unable to do anything else due to the amount of delight hindered your ability to think.
“mhm.. ha.. unnie’s pussy is so—ah, delicious.. i knew it.” yujin opens her eyes just to see the look on your face. all flustered and contorted with pleasure. you covered your mouth with your other hand just to make sure that you aren’t too loud. yujin didn’t like that, apparently. she sneaks one of her hands in between your thighs and leans back a little, licking your wetness off her mouth before shoving two fingers inside your cunt. you choked out a moan and you couldn’t even say anything to yujin about it all because she immediately wraps her lips around your sensitive clit.
“ahh..! y-yujin!” again, you clamped your mouth shut, opting to muffle them at the very least! the younger girl’s mouth and fingers surprisingly well together—yujin’s digits hitting all the right spots inside your walls while she flicks, sucks, and nibbles on your clit. having no choice but to uncover your mouth and put both your hands on yujin’s head, pushing her in further and practically grinding your hips on her face. 
“please, please, baby.. keep going…! m-more..” you were desperate for release. yujin could see that much. she stares and stares while she eats you out, so fucking turned out with the way you were begging for her—almost screaming for her despite what may come after.
(this was exactly what yujin wanted from day one. to have you screaming her name where everybody else can hear you just to prove that nobody, no other man and even woman, can make you feel as good as she can. now she’ll prove just how much she can make you feel. something beyond pleasure that only she can give you.)
“mmphf…! fuck, more… more, baby..!” and so yujin increases her pace, pulling her fingers out all the way and almost painfully plunging it back deep inside you. now you were screaming, having lost control of your composure long after yujin flicks your bud with her tongue and sucks on it desperately. you were pretty sure that you were hurting her with the way you gripped her hair tightly, but you knew that if you let go, you would fall over. your knees have turned to jelly, and it was only yujin’s body that kept you standing up.
“come all over my face, unnie…” yujin says. she takes out her fingers and replaces it with her tongue, once again making you moan loudly while she relishes in the taste of your cunt. fuck, yujin was so in love with how sweet you were, just the perfect flavor to satisfy her mouth. yujin makes out with your cunt, occasionally running her tongue over your clit and dipping it inside your hole, moaning as she did so. god, she could literally come just by eating you out alone. yujin has never been this addicted—you could probably pee on her and she’d drink it up! and she really would.
it takes another flick of yujin’s tongue on your clit before the pressure in your lower stomach finally breaks. yujin held your thighs tightly as you came, lapping up your cum diligently while she held you up. you grind your cunt against her mouth, still desperate to feel her mouth on your even though you were in the middle of your climax. yujin herself could not help but start licking again, her mind completely clouded with desire. now the only thing she wanted to do was make you come over and over again until both of you were exhausted out of your minds.
she wanted to see you lose every bit of control in your mind for her, and only her. and yujin plans on doing that very same thing today. right now.
much to your dismay, yujin pulls away from your cunt, not before giving your clit a sweet little kiss, and slowly stands up. she was only the slightest bit taller than you, but her dark eyes, alluring lips, and all the little droplets of water that ran down her toned body, you couldn’t help but go a little crazy over it all. yujin pulls you in, wrapping her lips around yours and immediately sliding her tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste a little bit of yourself before she presses your back against the wall.
while kissing you, yujin sneaks a hand in between your legs and starts massaging your clit in circles, relishing in the sounds of your muffled moans. you started moving your hips, grinding slowly on her hand. putting a hand behind your thigh, yujin pulls your leg up, wrapping it around her hips. she starts teasing your entrance, only running her fingertips over it rather than doing what you clearly wanted her to do. you whine in her mouth, detaching your lips from hers and looking at her with pleading eyes, “please, yujin. i need you.”
and how could she say no to you? yes, yujin would love to have you beg and beg for her but that was an experiment for later. right now, she wants to ruin you and have every damn person in this place know that the only girl that can take you to the stars is her.
yujin plunges two long fingers knuckle deep inside your pussy. she moans at your warmth, finding the way your tight cunt sucked her fingers in so attractive. pulling in and out excruciatingly slowly just to feel your cunt clench around her digits and soak them with your slick. “fuck, unnie… how are you so tight?” yujin chuckles. her eyes shined with hunger as she watched her fingers disappear inside of you.
“don’t tell me you’re a virgin… i’ll really ruin you if that’s the case—fuck.” yujin curls her fingers inside you, making you release a whiny moan before you cover your mouth shut. your face flushed while yujin laughed at you. you clawed at her back while she spread her fingers inside you before pushing them in even deeper. you didn’t even know if that was possible. she starts hitting the spots not even your toys are capable of reaching, her pace and force now increasing at an alarming rate, making you unable to say anything but nonsense.
you never really told yujin about your adventures in bed with other people. you weren’t a virgin of course, but what she didn’t know was that… you weren’t used to this. you knew a thing or two about being the one that’s doing the fucking, not the other way around! you somehow always had ways to be on top of the people you hook up with but the idea of letting yujin make you feel real pleasure was too enticing to give it up.
(oh, you have no idea how that information might’ve rewired yujin’s brain entirely. her obsession towards you slowly grew day by day—imagine what would have happened in here had you made her aware of that fact? she would make sure that you couldn’t walk.)
you hugged yuin by her neck tightly, hiding your face on her shoulder. a string of incoherent words leave your mouth as she steadily fucked you. it was reaching to a point where it almost hurt, but you buck your hips to her rhythm anyway, never having enough. yujin grabs your waist with her free arm, “up.” she said, tapping at your lower back. yujin momentarily pulls out of your cunt to wrap both of your legs around her waist, carrying you while still having you back up against the wall.
this time around, yujin doesn’t ease you into taking her fingers. as soon as you were comfortable, she shoves her two fingers right back inside of you and fucks your cunt relentlessly. she merely watched your face while she fucked you, grinning sickly at the way you threw your head back and gave her a full view of the mess she made on your neck. 
you were so beautiful like this—the perfect little piece of art that yujin can ruin as she pleases.
“nnngh… god, yujin—ah!” you dug your nails on her shoulders, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against hers.
“mhm, unnie’s such a good girl. it’s overwhelming isn’t it?” yujin whispers, tilting her head and leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “but you’re still taking it so well… fuck.” yujin increases her pace yet again, now fucking your cunt like it was some toy. you hug her tightly, screaming and whining at the amount of pleasure that took over your senses. it was so hard to comprehend it all, and now you believe all of the ridiculous stories her friends told you about her hookups. the thing that ahn yujin does best is sex, and good god was she fucking you stupid.
“y-yyujin… yujin…! yujin, i’m—mmgn…!”
“uh-huh. you’re coming, unnie? i got you. come. come.”
but she doesn’t let you. not immediately. yujin catches one of your nipples with her lips, sucking on it while she simultaneously fucked your cunt. she slows down her pace just by a bit, focusing her attention on your nipple just to truly make you lose your head when she thrusts inside you again. it all felt too much eventually. her fingers, her lips, her tongue, and all the things she made you feel. 
“ahh..! ah—yujin-ah, yujin..!” and then the knot in your stomach breaks for the second time today, your cum spilling all over yujin’s stomach. she shushes you as you come, kissing your shoulder softly and pulls her hand out of your pussy just to hug you tightly, caressing your back while you come down from your high. your head collapsed on top of her shoulder, and a few tears squeezed out of your eyes due to the slight pain that you felt in your groin. no doubt you couldn’t walk correctly after this. you just hoped that you could look everyone in the eye like nothing happened. not that you’d want to hide this from them anyway—yujin made you feel too good. that was something to boast about!
eventually, your breathing reverted back to normal and you lifted your head up.
“you okay?” yujin asked. she smiles as you hold her face in your hands, admiring every single one of her features for a good minute before pulling her in for a sweet kiss. your feet were back on the ground again, but you leaned on yujin’s body for support while the two of you made out under the cold water. only your soft moans, hushed whispers, little giggles, and the smacks of your lips being heard other than the running water.
“you’re not going to ignore me after this, right?” you asked after pulling away.
yujin looked at you incredulously, “unnie… i have a crush on you. why would i do that?” she said, pouting. adorable, but you still had doubts in your head considering her reputation! “especially now that i know how good your pussy tastes.” she joked, licking her lips.
you pushed her away with a smile, “perv.”
you weren’t able to get far before yujin pulled you in again, kissing you and laughing as she did so, making your heart jump several beats as it always does whenever she’s around.
of course, this was just another example of the local gym’s infamous ‘bimbo’ womanizer ahn yujin getting whatever she wants. except this time, she gets something more, something better and something real.
695 notes · View notes
hardstraykidshours · 1 year
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distraction
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pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader
genre: smut, angst, fluff, 18+ (minors dni)
summary: hyunjin has had a really bad week and needs to get his emotions out somehow.
length: 3.2k
warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, hard dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap), deepthroating, hair pulling, degradation, praise, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)
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this week had just not been hyunjin's week. the complete lack of texts or calls during the day told you that today was probably no different. except the second you see the look on his face when he walks through the door to your shared apartment, you can instantly tell that today was different from the rest of the week. today was much, much worse.
you start to cross the room towards him but pause when his shoe gets stuck while he's trying to take it off, resulting in him flinging it halfway across the room while muttering obscenities under his breath. 
he looks up at you and notes your frozen posture before loosing a heavy sigh and running his fingers through his hair, a tic you've noticed he does when he's overwhelmed or frustrated. "i'm sorry love, it's just not been a good day."
"it's okay baby, i understand," you say while finishing crossing the room towards him. wrapping your arms around his waist, you pull him into a tight hug. he embraces you back, but doesn't sink into your hold or bury his face in your neck like he usually does. "do you want to talk about it?" 
a dry laugh escapes his throat, but you hear no humor in the sound. "that's the last thing i want to talk about right now." 
you pull away slightly to look up at him. "can i do anything to help?" 
"unless you can time travel back to before i was an idol and tell me to stop before it becomes the biggest fucking nightmare of my entire life, i think i'm good," he breaks your hold on him, brushing past you to head further into the apartment.
his words leave you a bit stunned, so you don't respond for a minute. he loves dancing and performing, and he loves his fans, so you know he doesn't really mean what he said about not becoming an idol. regardless, it still shocked you, because it's the first time he's ever said something so drastic before. 
you take a second to compose your shocked expression before turning and heading into the kitchen.
"why don't you go take a shower, and i'll finish making dinner?" you say, trying to keep your voice casual. he clearly doesn't want to talk about work, so maybe reverting back to your normal routine will help him de-stress. 
"yeah, fine, whatever," he mutters, more to himself than you, before storming to the bathroom. you grin to yourself at his grumpy behavior, knowing a long, hot shower will help him relax. it always does. 
you're just finishing up dinner when you hear the water turn off. a few moments go by, and you look up to see hyunjin standing in the doorway to the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped across his neck that he's using to vigorously dry his hair. your smile quickly fades when you see the lines of tension still visible on his face and through his body. he's deep in thought, definitely about work, and he scrubs a hand down his face, clearly still very frustrated. "it's fucking bullshit," he spits while slamming the side of his fist into the doorframe before stalking across the hall to your bedroom to change. 
okay, now you're getting worried. you thought for sure a shower would help him cool off, just like it always does, but all it seems to have done is rile him up even more. 
he emerges from the bedroom a few moments later, wearing a fresh t-shirt and gym shorts. he joins you at the table, chair screeching across the floor when he pulls it out with more force than necessary. you tap your leg nervously while he remains silent the entire meal, the tension in the air around him palpable. 
finally, he finishes his meal and mumbles a thank you before abruptly standing. he crosses to the living room and plops down on the couch. you think he's going to put on a stupid show or a movie to help turn off his brain and unwind, but when you finish clearing the table you look over and see that he hasn't moved an inch. he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling. 
you join him in the living room, sitting next to him on the arm of the couch. you try to run your fingers through his hair, something you know he absolutely loves, but he brushes your hands away. 
"jinnie, baby, what's going on? what happened?" 
"i told you i don't want to talk about it." 
"okay, then what can i do to help you? i know this week's been a nightmare for you, so tell me what you need to feel better," your voice has taken on a pleading tone. you're starting to get a little desperate for anything else to try. 
"nothing. it just all sucks, and nothing can change that. i'm really sorry i'm being such an ass tonight. i'm just going to go to bed." 
he pushes off the couch and walks away, leaving you feeling helpless. you know he's not acting like this on purpose. he's just overwhelmed with whatever is happening with work and is lashing out, but you wish you could help him. you wish he would let you help him. 
he's a wound up ball of energy and frustration, and you don't know what to do. you've tried everything you can think of to help him release all that tension, so he can finally unwind and relax for the evening, but nothing seems to be working. 
wait. you haven't tried everything. 
when you enter the bedroom you find hyunjin on the bed in the same position he was in on the couch, on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. 
you crawl up next to him, pausing when you reach his waist. he doesn't so much as even spare you a glance, but you don't let it deter you. you're going to snap him out of this if it's the last thing you do. reaching forward, you slide his shirt up slightly and plant several warm, wet kisses along his lower abdomen. you don't miss the sharp intake of breath when he feels your warm tongue swirl across his skin. which is why you're shocked when his hands grip your shoulders and pull you away. 
"what are you doing?" he looks at you, his gaze still distant, and you can almost see the turmoil waging in his eyes. 
"i'm distracting you from whatever is going on in that head of yours," you lean forward once more, tracing your lips across his flesh again. he doesn't stop you, but he also doesn't stop his complaints. 
"it's no use baby. like i told you before, there's nothing that's going to make this night better," his mouth is telling you one thing but the growing hardness in his shorts is telling you something entirely the opposite. 
you pull back slightly to smirk up at him. "just be a good boy and listen to me so i can make you feel good." you reach for his waistband, but his hand shoots out and encircles your wrist, stopping your movements. 
"no." his voice is firm, bordering on cold, and you can't help the shocked expression that crosses your face. before you even have time to question his strange behavior, he continues. "i'm sick and tired of listening to people tell me what to do. it doesn't matter that i'm running myself ragged to do exactly what they asked. it's still not good enough. maybe we wouldn't have so many problems if someone just fucking listened to me for once!"
oh. oh. so that's what's been going on. now that you know the root of the problem, your entire plan shifts slightly. 
"i'm listening," you say as you lean back onto your heels, crossing your hands behind you. 
he runs a hand through hair and releases a heavy sigh. "i know you are, loves, you always listen, but you know that's not what i mean." 
"oh, but i do know," your voice takes on a slightly mischievous tone. "you just don't know what i mean." 
"i don't un-" he stops talking when he notices you grab the hem of your shirt and start lifting it. 
"i'm listening," you don't break eye contact as you pull the shirt up and over your head. 
"to you." one hand moves behind your back, undoing the clasps on your bra. 
"to anything you want to say." the corners of your lips tip up into a smile as you slide the straps down your arms. 
"and to anything you want to do." you rise up slightly to push your shorts off before settling back on your heels, completely bare except for your panties. 
he props himself up on his elbows to look at you. a dark glint enters his eyes, and you can tell his attention is quickly shifting away from work. 
"you need to work out all that tension from this week, and i want you to unleash it on me. however you want."
he doesn't say anything in response, just opens and closes his mouth a few times while he keeps staring at you. 
"well?" 
it's like that one word flicked a switch in his brain because he moves before you can even blink. you find yourself suddenly on your back, his body towering over you, his arms caging you in.
"i'm not in a good headspace right now," he leans down to kiss your neck, and you tip your head back when you feel his warm mouth on your skin. 
"i know," you whisper before letting out a soft moan when you feel him suck hard enough to leave a mark. 
"i'm not going to be gentle," his teeth scrape across your throat and bright hot arousal shoots through your veins. "i'm going to fuck you and use you until i can't even remember all that stupid bullshit from work." 
his dirty words skate across your skin, and you can feel your panties getting wetter by the second. 
"good," you mange to say, grinning to yourself. 
he pulls away suddenly, moving to stand next to the bed. "roll over," his voice is hard, full of authority and you cant help but think about how much it turns you on. 
you quickly oblige, turning onto your stomach and scooting to the edge of the bed when he gestures at you. 
"open," he commands while moving his shorts just enough to pull out his hard cock. your mouth practically waters at the sight of him right in front of you. you're so busy staring at his throbbing dick that you don't even realize your mouth is still closed until he's fingers sink into your hair, pulling your head back ever so slightly.
"i said open," he taps your lips with the tip of his cock, and you immediately part them. 
he wastes no time thrusting into your mouth. he hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly around him, pulling a deep groan from him. 
he continues to relentlessly pound into you, your position giving him the ideal angle to plunge deep into your mouth. he has his hands buried into your hair, using it as leverage to pull you closer in time with his thrusts. 
it's unlike any other time you two have done this. you've always been the one in control, guiding the speed, the depth, everything. but not this time. and you realize you like it. a lot. 
something about being completely at his mercy while he roughly fucks your mouth is so incredibly arousing. the loud moans and grunts that pour from hyunjin while he keeps up his unforgiving pace only heighten the entire situation and you know your panties are completely ruined by this point. you find yourself squirming on the bed slightly, rubbing your thighs together to try and release some of the intense ache that's building between them. 
"look at you, already writhing for my touch, and i've barely done anything yet. you like this huh? does my little whore like it when i use her mouth and throat like this?" 
you nod enhusiastically as tears start to gather in your eyes from gagging while he roughly fucks your throat. one breaks loose with his next thrust and starts to trail down your cheek. he slows his pace slightly, before eventually stopping and pulling away. he brings his free hand up to gently wipe the tear away. "good girl, you're such a good little slut for me. taking me so well." 
you can't help the moan that escapes you at his dirty words. 
"i think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl, huh?" you nod eagerly, biting your lip as you think of finally getting to feel him where you so desperately want him. 
his eyes zero in on the movement, and you notice the way his cock jumps as he watches your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 
"lay on your back. center of the bed." you scramble to obey his instructions, ready for whatever he has planned next. 
"now spread your legs." 
his eyes darken even more when you do, lust clouding his vision. he stalks to the end of the bed and slowly, torturously starts to move up the length of your body, nipping and licking and sucking the entire way. 
when he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he pauses for a moment, his face directly level with your dripping pussy. 
his eyes move up to yours as he slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, ghosting along your pussy before he pulls the fabric away and lets it slap back against your skin. your body jolts at the sudden sharp sting, but a moan slips from your lips as the pain mixes with pleasure. 
he does it again, resulting in the same response from you. he does it a third time, this time much harder. you cry out this time, practically thrusting your cunt into his face as you beg for more. 
your reaction shreds any last semblance of self control hyunjin has, and he rips your panties from your body. before they can even hit the floor, he's back between your legs and sliding into you with one easy thrust. you throw your head back at the sensation of him filling you. he makes a few slow, experimental strokes before thrusting all the way into you, leaning forward and biting your shoulder as he does. 
you gasp at the combined feeling of his teeth on your skin and his cock deep inside your pussy. your hands move to scrape up his back, trying to pull him even closer, but he knocks them down with his arms. 
grabbing both your hands with one of his, he moves them above your head, pinning them to the bed. he uses his other hand to grip your hip, tight enough you think it might bruise. and then he starts to fuck you fast and hard, his hips snapping into yours with brutal force. 
you cry out in pleasure as he hits that spot deep inside of you over and over again. you feel a familiar pressure growing low in your belly. when he releases your hip to move his hand between you and start rolling your clit, you know it will only be a few more moments before you shatter completely.
without slowing his pace, he leans down to your ear and whispers. "cum for me, baby, i want to feel you cum on my cock." 
his words tip you over the edge, and your eyes roll back as release slams into you. he continues to fuck you relentlessly throughout your orgasm, drawing it out longer than you thought possible. 
just as you start to come down from your high, he rolls his thumb along your clit again and gives it a sharp pinch. without warning another orgasm crashes over you, rolling into the first. incoherent mumbles and moans pour from your lips as you lose yourself to the pleasure. 
in the midst of being lost in bliss you hear hyunjin utter a few sharp curses, his pace faltering before he thrusts himself deep inside of you. he collapses over top of you, barely managing to keep his body weight from crushing you as his cock pulses inside of you. 
the sensation causes a few afterschocks to roll through you, and you clench around his dick. hyunjin releases a strangled moan at the sensation, fighting off overstimulation as he finishes cumming deep inside of you. 
you both stay like that for a moment, his face buried in your neck as you try to catch your breath. eventually, he pulls out and flops onto his back beside you. 
you roll over on your side to look at him, smiling broadly when you see the stupid grin plastered on his face. 
"feel better?" you tease, snuggling closer to his side. 
"most definitely," he wraps an arm around you, and leans in to kiss you tenderly. when he pulls away, you can see the apology in his eyes before he even opens his mouth. "i'm really sorry, loves, it's been a really long, very rough week for me."
"i know-" he interjects before you can say anything else. 
"but, that doesn't mean i should have been so irritated and snappy when i came home. you have been so helpful and patient with me this entire week, and you didn't deserve for me to act like that around you." 
"it's okay," you say while gently reaching up to push some of his hair out of his face before stroking his cheek. you can see that he wants to interrupt and apologize again, so you continue before he has the chance. "i'm not here with you just for all the good days. i'm here for the days where you kick your shoe across the room, because it's stuck, and it's just one more thing that hasn't gone right. i'm here for the days when you feel like you're going to combust because you're so upset, or tired, or just plain overwhelmed. i'm here for the days you just can't control the frustration anymore. i don't need you to try and pretend to be okay around me just because i'm not what made you upset. i just want to be here and work through it with you. okay?"
a soft smile breaks across his face and he nods slightly as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. 
"plus," you add, throwing him a wry smirk. "we seem to have figured out just what you need when it's been one of those days."
"mmmmm, i believe you're right," a devilish expression crosses his face and his hand slides down to grip your waist. "just know that from now on, if i text you that i've had a rough day, you better be ready." he pulls you closer against him, and you can't help the small moan that escapes you when you feel that he's already hard again. 
"always," you reply breathlessly before twining your fingers around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours.
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goldsbitch · 3 months
Text
Here I go again
part 4 to I gave so many signs
summary: Afternoon talks are harder than late night fucks.
warning: present + flashbacks, mentions of cheating and typos
song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)
The Louvre - Lorde Mamma Mia - ABBA (shoot me, I heard an amazing slow piano version of it and got obsessed)
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"We heard some noises on the stairway, were you alone?" her mom asked first thing in the morning. The irony that her mom would actually approve of Charles maybe a little too enthusiastically was not lost on Y/N. "Yeah, alone. Bit tipsy, so sorry about that."
Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession
He stared silently. Monitoring actions of his girlfriend and having absolutely clear on the mind what to say to her. Part of him wanted to leave the premise immediately. Part of him wanted to scream out his confession. Part of him was astonished that she absolutely did not acknowledge his absence - did she not notice anything? He must have had Y/N scent all over him, punching through the quiet living room. He wanted her to say something. But she just grabbed her workout bag and casually got to the gym. Left him there, bewildered. He wanted to feel guilty, but the lack of emotion from her part was making a really hard thing to follow through. Was he just an asshole? Or someone who forgot to get out of a relationship at the right time and lived in a stale water?
His now fully developed brain decided to jump on the train to the past and he spent his entire morning checking his phone for a text - and not from his girlfriend. For a man who slept about an hour last night, he was surprisingly fresh and energized. Must have been the three orgasms. A lighting of excitement ran through him whenever he came back to those. And there it finally was, his catalysis for a guilt trip.
I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush Drink up your movements, still I can't get enough
Mood swings were the one to rule Y/N's day. She felt like dancing around. Woke up to an empty bed, which was a shame, but it saved from potentially an awkward conversation, so maybe she actually appreciated the gesture. With a lazy day ahead of her, she could replay yesterday's night over and over all day. Rarely would the sun shine so brightly through her window. But - mood does swing. Even though he was the one to cheat, she was the one cursing herself over and over again. Not because she felt any sympathy for his girlfriend, on the contrary, the thought that this girl got to have, what Y/N only experienced for one night, anytime, was infuriating. Fuck any girl power bullshit, she was jealous and angry at herself for crumbling so easily. She had been happy, content, on the lookout for someone available to date for fun and maybe love. Not fucking with her old best friend only to develop a crush so massive her apartment felt small. Y/N was content yesterday morning. This morning, she was satisfied, and anything but content. And yet, she couldn't help but smile into her morning coffee, while trying to remain casual and normal in front of her family.
Blow all my friendships To sit in hell with you
"We need to break up," he found himself saying in the early afternoon. There was no plan from his side, no agenda about getting with Y/N or anything like that. He just had to get out of a relationship where he managed to be the cheater. The decision was suddenly so simple, just hard to execute. There were tears. Not his. Mutual understanding is the hardest thing to fake.
Y/N really tried to go about with her day, having lunch with the family, catching up and just generally free Sunday vibes. Only problem was that she was all over the place mentally - short attention span, distracted and having trouble keeping up with longer conversations. Head over in the clouds, fingers tapping nervously. In some ways, she couldn't wait to get back to he daily life in London filled with work and array of distractions. There was no hope for her in this town. Guilt and desire punching through her own integrity. It was in the late afternoon when disturbing messages appeared under Charles Leclerc tag on socials, which she monitored in every available moment. When she saw her own front door on one of the headline photos, that's when she lost it completely. Panic set in when she finally came to a photo that the two of them talking in front of the bar, with speculative headlines.
But we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre Down the back, but who cares? Still the Louvre
She sat in her room, tired, confused and lonely. Social media doomscroll it was then, trying to desperately ignore any photos of them. Her brain got stuck in a loop when she stumbled upon a slow piano cover of Mamma Mia. Not particularly her favorite song. But it spoke of everything she couldn't put a name on. Their joined history, the change of course, the inevitable return and the sudden urge to get it right this time. It was like being possessed. She had to act this time. At least let him know that she got it wrong the first time. She had loved him. The feeling was just so common in her life that she didn't recognize it only after it was gone.
Look at me now, will I ever learn I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control There's a fire within my soul
She had to see him and it had to be NOW. Powered by the lyrics praising delusion, she was not going to let it slip through her fingers this time. Not even sure his old number was still active, she called him, only to end up in a voicemail without any message. His private socials were deleted or replaced and she could't just walk over to his flat. His girlfriend would be there and the thought of it broke her heart. Was her current state of mind only make things explosive and worse for everyone?
There had been many times she'd let her chances pass her by.
So I made up my mind, it must come to an end
Only once she was standing before Charles's childhood home, ringing the bell, she realized that zero thought went to what she actually wanted to say to him. Fear hit her hard. Seconds turned into minutes and she realized that nobody was probably home. Heart sank low. What was there to do now? She had no idea where he to find him.
//
They'd walked together for hours. It felt so intoxicatingly refreshing after all those months of no contact. If one got lucky in life, they'd understand the type of connection that does not go away with time. But there was something different in the air that evening, as if their usual hang out spot, just above the town had a different vibe that day. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she's seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere - what if the line got crossed? Would it be such an issue? She knew Charles would never make the first move. What if? Just to know how it feels. Curiosity got the better of her. This was not the first time she glanced at his lips, wondering what they tasted like. But she knew the feelings he might still have for her was something she could not respond to properly. The thought of hurting her best friend was stopping her from ever actually exploring this idea. But, what if? Just this one time.
Thousand of quick thoughts passed through her mind in that one moment - the last few seconds before they kissed for the first time. She was nervous, but it didn't show. Confidently put her hands on his chest, stepped on her toes and put her lips on his. If she was scared, he was borderline terrified. Never expected her to actually do it. Her warm lips touched his own, but he was still trying to process that her hands rested on his chest tenderly. Stiff and shocked seventeen year old boy stood like a rock, trying to catch up with what was just happening. Both of them have had their fair share of kisses and make outs with other people in their life, but this was one different. Somehow, it was harder to kiss someone who actually knew personal things about you. It was no romantic kiss, once Charles finally started to respond, both of them picked up quite a quick tempo and all of that was more close to a drunken teenage make out rather than an honest vulnerable kiss. And still, his soft lips felt really good, her tongue exploring his mouth was sending him to highs unexperienced before. Just as he started to relax and stopped fathoming what was happening, she pulled away. It was all too much, too real and scary for her unsure self. Afraid of loosing her fake confident mask, she had to stop before she lost herself in this. What even was this? She'd be leaving for university soon, so what was the point.
"Sorry," she said immediately and looked anywhere else but his eyes. Stepped back away from him in order to gain more socially acceptable distance. "I dunno, guess I hadn't kissed anyone in a while, so yeah... But this is wrong, sorry for that." There is heartbreak and then there is heartbreak. Charles felt betrayed, she didn't even give him a chance to kiss her properly. He wasn't ready, didn't expect it and now it felt like his one chance got slipped away from him. Once again, he stood there, frozen and processing. She couldn't stand silence. Scary thing to experience in a difficult situation. "I should not have crossed the line, we're really good friends and-" "No," he cut her off, not letting her play this game again. "That's not true and you know that. I never told you in person, which is a really coward move, but that's on me. But you know how I feel. That hasn't changed and I can't imagine it ever will." His words burned like hot sand. "You're right, yes," she replied quickly and wished she could just make herself invisible for a moment. This was all too much to handle. "And that's why I'm saying I'm sorry. I thought ignoring the subject would help you..." "Help me? Help in what, getting over you?" he had to laugh. Where did her delusion end? Was it truly endless? "I don't want that. Definitely not from you. I want you to open your eyes and give us a chance." One thing she couldn't stand was to be pressured to something and this was strongly resembling that. How could someone else try to say what she wanted when she herself wasn't sure?
"Charles, I can't. I need to leave this place and figure out who I am." "Why can't I be a part of that journey?" he said, broken once again. "We would only end up hurting each other and lose our friendship, can't you see that? I want you in my life permanently, so we can't date." "How does any of this make sense in you head," he replied bitterly. While she waved around these big concepts, the one intrusive thought he had was that she was just trying to avoid telling him, that he was just a bad kisser. Her gut was telling her to run away from this. How is one suppose to resist that? "Charles. This whole thing is a mistake. You don't love me and as much as I'd like to, I don't think I love you." The word think punched through Charles like a knife. She wasn't even sure of that... "Well that's it then," he said, knowing the last thing he wanted was to talk her into being with him and have her run to someone else at the first opportunity. He was trying to control the emotional cocktail mixing within him. Trying get his anger, disappointment and wonder lust in check. He tried to read her facial expressions, but the only thing he finally saw was a little girl running away from mature feelings. Suddenly, he understood. She wasn't ready and there was nothing for him to do with that. His job now was to work on his attachment to her, because relying on her was only blocking his own development.
"I think I should get going, big day tomorrow," he lied and waved awkwardly instead of their usual hug. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna stay here for a while, if you don't mind," she said and turned her attention to the stunning view on the mountains, sea and the city below them. To Charles, their favorite hang out spot was ruined. Forever the place where his worst kiss happened. His stomach turned at the thought of that and he knew he needed to get out of there and far away from her immediately. "See you when I see you," he said, walking away. She watched him, hoping the weight on her shoulders would disappear quickly. They didn't speak to each other for more than two years after that.
//
It was hard to believe, she only came to their favorite spot to reminisce about one of her greatest misjudgement and dwell in her sorrow. But, to her luck, he was already there, looking over at the sea as they had countless times together. Walking towards him felt like walking on a tightrope with the chance of falling down getting bigger with every step.
Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again My, my, just how much I've missed you?
Charles didn't come there to meet up with her. His intention was to run away, to clear his thoughts, come to terms with the fact he had just cheated on someone. Take in the feeling Y/N made him burn with last night. Like some sort of breakthrough - this was they were all singing about. This is why people were able to drop their while life and follow love. It was an old and new love at the same. And that created a complete mess in his head. But when saw a figure coming his way, he knew immediately that she chose this place as well. Charles hadn't been at their spot since the time they first kissed here. Unlike Y/N, who came here anytime she was back in Monaco. She truly didn't expect him to be here - but took it as a sign that there was no way but forward for her. She walked towards him and sat on next to him, joining the view he was getting lost in. No words were shared for the first minute.
Y/N found out only after her university years that physical communication was her way of expressing feelings. Words were a little too messy and hard to put together. So she reached over to gently put her hand over his. She felt him shake a little, but he kept his hand below hers. Which she took as a good sign. Charles was the one to break the silence. "I hope you won't have much trouble online. There are pictures of us circling around," he said bluntly. "I have a very average face, I think I'm good." Charles laughed at her response. "As if." She really wanted not to ask. But the words just slipped out of her tongue. "Will your girlfriend mind?" And immediately after that, she wanted to shoot herself.
Charles took a deep breath. Then smiled bitterly, because what else was there to do. "Do you think so low of me that I could stay with someone once I'd cheated on them?" "Every couple goes through a crisis..." Charles chuckled again. "Have you ever been cheated on?" "Yes," she did not have to think twice about that. "But strangely enough, it was a relief when it finally happened." "See, so you understand." They sat in silence again. There was a feeling in the air like rain was coming. Neither of them moved. "Are you sad about it? Do you regret it?" She took Charles of guard. "Look at you, asking the big questions. What happened to you?" "Grew up, you know. You're not the only one. But don't get me wrong...it's still very hard. Talking." "I can see that," he replied, somewhat amused by her red cheeks. "To answer your important question," he highlighted, making her feel like a school girl passing a test, "I guess I regret the fact I wasn't honest enough to myself before something like that has happened." Y/N got a sudden influx of insecurity. Could it be that he was just unhappy in his relationship and it wasn't about the two of them? She pulled away a bit. Charles picked up on that. But this time, he couldn't put himself on the line first again. Not after what she said all those years ago. "Regret is the worst feeling. I think." "Why would you think?" "It's really hard to get rid of it. It lingers. Stays on." "Is there something you regret?" Somehow, he knew the answer before she did. "Of course. Everyone does." "You're avoiding again." "I know. I am perfectly aware of that." "At least something has changed."
The mood shifted and there was no way back. Charles was about to push like he had never done before. "Y/N. Why did you come here tonight. And be clear, blunt and honest or just leave now. It's been confusing enough even without you." She did not expect him to talk to openly. But she came searching for him, to do the leap, so it was actually appreciated. She started speaking, very slowly. "Um. I was looking for you. Wanted to say...not sure what exactly, but...I guess to let you know that I'd changed my mind. And I understand, you're somewhere else in your life now. But I need you to know." One very impatient Charles spoke when she took a break to breathe. "Know what?" "Charles, you keep interrupting me! Let me just...you know." He nodded in understanding, amused by her giddiness. "I just need to say...When were young, I never realized that the connection we have is special and rare. Stupid as I was, I thought it was just normal and common. And I don't regret not dating you back then. I had to take some time to grow up and understand more about the world. But now I do - and even if you've moved on, I feel like I'm just about to get on this train." He took in everything she said carefully. Tried not to get to ahead of himself.
"Did you ever think of me? Or it this just because last night." This time, it was she who smiled with a sad undertone. Did she ever think of him? Her? Had she spent nights and more nights wishing he'd call? Had she walked aimlessly around Monaco just to run into him? Did she compare every guy she shared a bed with to the times Charles made her feel like she was the only one on this planet that he could see? "One would say it's alarming how often I come back to the days we spent together. How hard it is to be so raw with someone in the same way as I was with you." Charles was slightly overwhelmed by her words. "Look, Charlie, I don't want to put any pressure on you. I had many chances and blew them all. I get it. Just want you to know that this was not a random encounter with an old friend for me." She'd been so focused on the right words coming out, that she missed the moment when Charles got close to her, so his kiss that followed was a surprise to her. Soft and sweet lips touched hers and it was like a release from prison. This time, it felt so right and safe. She didn't want him to end this. But once he inevitably did, fear came in like an unexpected summer storm. Would he be as cruel as she had been back then? Sharing a kiss with her while knowing that he was going to break her heart?
He took a breath in order to speak again. She stopped him with her finger. For just a minute, she wanted to keep this moment intact. To have this possibility of him still having a trace of the love he once had and she now bared as well. "Charles, I know what you're going to say. I can taste the words in your mouth. Please, don't." "So tell me, what am I going to say?" She sighed, slightly annoyed with him pushing her. "You're going to say that you'd moved on and this was just to have some fun. And you know what? Maybe it really is for the better, it was never-" "And this time, I am really going to stop you," he said, staring deeply into her eyes. "It's even harder now that we're adults. I understand that, understand the hardship my lifestyle can bring to the ones closest to me...My love for you never left. Yes, it's way less destructive and I've come to peace with it. But I am also not a scared boy anymore. Y/N, I would like to see you again and not as a friend. I don't think you ever were my friend. But you need to brave and honest too this time. Are you ready for that?" "I want to have all the hardest conversations with you, even if that's all we'd be doing," she laughed, taking in the fact he did not reject her. "I sincerely hope we'll be doing more than that," he said and joined her in easing the tension. "Is this really happening?" she whispered, as if it was a dream. "Yes, I believe it really is."
Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you?
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