#and something like this just makes it worse
Note
would you do a james fainting fic 🙏🙏
—James doesn’t like you, but he’ll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k
The office is hot.
James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye.
“You okay?” he asks.
You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isn’t asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show he’s noticed.
“Fine,” Remus mutters. “Fucked off ‘cos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.”
“Are you hot or is it just me?”
You clear your throat. Usually, unless it’s Remus who’s spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you won’t interrupt. “I’m really warm,” you say, “do you think I can open the window?”
“Like you can reach it, shorts. I’ll do it.” James jumps up from his seat. Whether you’re short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently.
He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He can’t imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy.
He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. It’ll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice you’d only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and that’s the last thing anyone needs today.
James isn’t sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. He’s never met anybody he didn’t like that wasn’t a massive wanker, and you are but you’re not, not really. When you first started he’d actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didn’t matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, he’d used your mug without washing it, you’d left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when you’re mad? It doesn’t hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, he’s keeping you vigilant.
You don’t look vigilant. You don’t say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when you’re tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30.
“Are you okay?” James asks finally, eyeing your face. “You look funnier than usual.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He should stop being mean. You look like you’re gonna pass out.
Remus peeks over his computer screen. “You don’t look well,” he says.
“I’m fine.” You roll your seat back.
James pushes back at the same time. “Wait a second–”
You’re standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldn’t. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like you’re enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack.
James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall.
You’re still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs aren’t holding your weight, and you begin to slip.
James could keep you up, he doesn’t go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. “What do we do?” Remus asks urgently.
James puts his hand behind your head. You’re slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace.
“Can you get some water?” he asks Remus.
James is peculiarly calm. He knows you’re just hot, it’s not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and he’s honestly confident in his ability to look after you. It’s very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while you’re vulnerable, even if some force would help. “Hey, can you hear me? You’re okay, can you open your eyes?”
Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and it’s fine, if a tad fast.
Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. “Jesus,” Sirius says. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“She’ll die of embarrassment,” Remus says.
“She’s coming around,” James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. “I think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.”
“You don’t think we should do something a bit more drastic?” Sirius asks.
James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and he’s sure you’re fine. You have to be fine. “She just fainted, it’s so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and we’ll wait for her to come around.”
Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if you’re alright, but James misses what they’re saying as you let out a whine.
All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like they’re thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where it’s holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. “James,” you mumble.
His stomach aches. He ignores it. “You okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure you’re fine.”
“I’m fine,” you say, face pressed to his hand.
“Just look at me. Just for a second.”
You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he can’t explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. “Oh, fuck,” you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes.
“Hey, don’t move around so much.” He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is that’s trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but he’ll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure you’re as okay as he’d claimed to everyone else. “Are you okay?”
“Did I…”
“You fainted. Don’t worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.”
He presses the cup of water into your hand.
Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance.
You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face.
James shuffles forward quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let anyone see you. I’m saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.”
“Did everybody see me fall?”
“They saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.”
You sip your water. In truth, you don’t look much better for passing out, and James can’t get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. “You don’t control the weather. Do you?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Then why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure you’re okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,” —you visibly baulk— “and I told him no, don’t worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.”
“Was I heavy?” you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly.
“I can bench press two twenty.”
“That… doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“You’re nothing I couldn’t handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? I’ll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.”
You make a soft sound James won’t soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesn’t have to force you. You don’t have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers.
You press your cheek to his chest.
Remus looks at you both like you’ve been body-snatched, but it’s too late to wuss out now.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
798 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Doll House | Lee Heeseung
doll!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), pure filth, dom!hee, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m&f. rec), clit biting, throat fucking, cock worshipping, doggy, pussy stepping, spanking, squirting, slight degradation and choking, pet names (baby), supernatural elements, religious themes (heaven/hell), anything else lmk!
wc: 16.8k
synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and opens your eyes to a world you never knew was possible.
jongseong | masterlist |
a/n: hi! it's officially the end of tdh! i need to put a massive thank you out to @haechonly as this entire series would never have been possible without their request! you are a star in my eyes and i can't ever thank you enough for trusting me to write this! i also want to thank everyone who took the time to read each chapter and leave comments or asks, i love you indefinitely <3 i hope the ending leaves you all satisfied and all your questions answered! as always, likes, reblogs, feeback, and everything in between is welcomed :)
Folding the laundry, you glance over at the calendar on the day of your leave circled in red. There are only 2 weeks left until you finish up and you’re more than sad about it. Your heart aches every time you sleep because you know that you’re one day closer to returning to normality when you wake up.
The thought alone is overwhelming - how can you possibly contemplate returning to a life you loathe when you've uncovered a paradise here? In the company of Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and Jongseong, each fulfilling a unique role in your existence, you've found a sense of completeness that you fear will escape you once you leave.
You're so fond of the dolls that you're willing to overlook the horrifying underworld that lurks in the library's secret room. You’ve learned that if you pay it no mind, it can’t touch you. Jongseong has reassured you time and time again that you need not worry about it, and you trust him, so you faithfully follow his guidance.
Jongseong has hardly explained anything, only that yes it was hell that lives in the flames but it’s more like a telephone than a portal - a cryptic analogy that only serves to fuel your curiosity - but he just keeps repeating himself time and time again: “Talk to Heeseung.”
Which would be fine if the doll ever gave you the time of day. He knows you know about them now so there’s no reason for him not to speak with you, yet he hardly utters a word, not even a simple thank you when you serve him dinner or excuse me when he bumps into you. He’s not avoiding you but ignoring you and for some reason that makes it worse. All you get from Heeseung is knowing stares and a sly smile plastered on his face.
You know he’s dangerous, Jongseong and Sunghoon are good at making you very aware of that, even his aura is enough to know that you shouldn’t mess with him, but their warnings about his inherent danger reverberate in your head, their evident readiness to give you to his care and seek answers calls into question his malevolence.
Jongseong said he doesn’t want to see your face when you find out, making you even more curious and it cannot be curbed until you get answers.
Grabbing the washing basket, you put the neatly folded clothes inside and make your way to drop them off outside each of the respective dolls’ rooms. They are off doing their own thing, even Jaeyun, who is typically tethered to your side, is engrossed in playing football with Jongseong, seemingly oblivious to your brief departure.
There was something Jongseong said to you over the past week that you can’t shake out of your head. He observed how close you and Jaeyun are, and how attached the younger doll has become to you. It’s not so much the observation as much as how he eyes the both of you now; there’s a knowingness in his pupils, like he’s keeping another secret from you, but you can’t figure out what.
It’s obvious you and Jaeyun get along well, each of you loving to spend time with one another and waste the day away; as long as you’re together, that’s all that matters. You confided in Jongseong, telling him that whatever Jaeyun is feeling, whether happy or sorrowful, you feel it too. It's a connection so profound that only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend its depth.
Regret gnaws at you for telling Jongseong, for since then, his scrutiny has only intensified, leaving you to wonder what his meaningful gaze truly means.
You head towards Heeseung's room, initially planning to leave his clothes outside as per the rulebook. However, your rebellious streak, which has persisted almost since you got here, urges you otherwise. The last time you saw Heeseung was in the music room, practising the piano, so he isn’t around, leaving you the perfect opportunity to snoop.
If he isn’t giving you answers, maybe his room will.
Placing the basket on your hip, you open his door tentatively, scared to see what is on the other side. You’ve been in his room before but now that you’re delving into its nooks and crannies, you can’t help but feel some apprehension. This is new territory and with warnings about his character, you know if you’re caught, you are fucked.
His room is dull, his curtains remaining shut despite the summer weather outside. Come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen him sit out the front with the others, only ever being in their presence when he has to be. Sunghoon and Heeseung have a camaraderie, their personalities are woven from the same cloth, so you know they are close in some way. You’ve seen them sharing secrets and memories of their past but it’s always in hushed whispers, not letting anyone in on their fun.
Yet, when it comes to Jongseong, a noticeable distance lingers between them. Though their interactions remain civil, their friendship feels distant. Despite this, Jongseong's occasional defence of Heeseung hints at an underlying care between them, though you can't help but feel that there's more to their dynamic than meets the eye. You have enough mysteries in this house other than feuding brothers, so you’ve not given it much thought.
You set the basket down on the ottoman nestled at the foot of his bed, casting a quick glance around the room to assess your surroundings before delving into your impromptu snoop sesh.
Your gaze drifts to his dressing table, its surface gathering dust and bereft of any adornments. It's a stark contrast to the other dolls' rooms, each of them cluttered with their interests and personalities. With a curious tilt of your head, you step closer, it's as if Heeseung deliberately keeps his space devoid of any semblance of identity or sentimentality. The only thing adorning the furniture is a scatter of dead flies that you turn your nose up to.
Jongseong had said Heeseung had been here for 8 years, surely that would warrant some decoration; even one book would be enough.
As your exploration continues, you come across a worn and torn box tucked away in the corner of the room. Kneeling down, you run your fingers over it, noticing how it’s the only thing devoid of dust in the room. Curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid, revealing a trove of forgotten treasures within.
Among the assortment of photographs, you come across snapshots capturing moments between Soonyeol and Heeseung. There is one photo of Soonyeol and Heeseung which she clearly forced him to be in, her cheek pressed hard against his and a smile on her face. Although it is a picture, you can feel her love for him emanating.
Setting aside the photograph with care, your attention is drawn to another picture, this time commemorating Soonyeol's birthday. The scene is more recent, with Jaeyun's radiant smile serving as a focal point. His embrace of the birthday girl evokes a pang of envy within you, swiftly tempered by the reminder that he belongs to Soonyeol.
"Hmm, she’s 28," you remark, noting the candles donning the birthday cake in the photograph. You could have sworn she was the same age as you; maybe it’s her skincare cupboard you should be raiding through.
Nestled among the keepsakes is a handwritten note, its edges yellowed with age. As you unfold it, the scrawl of Soonyeol's handwriting greets your eyes. The heartfelt words penned on the paper speak of cherished moments and promises of eternal love for Heeseung, her words of gratitude for saving her.
You can't help but wonder what drove Heeseung to save Soonyeol. If Heeseung is indeed this elusive big bad wolf, it begs the question: why would he ever come to someone's rescue?
"What are you doing?" A low voice reverberates through the cold walls, jolting you from your exploration. Startled, you scramble to restore everything to its place, your heart pounding with fear as you hastily rise to your feet, meeting Heeseung's gaze with wide-eyed apprehension.
Heeseung stands before you, arms crossed and a frown etched across his features. His expression speaks volumes, conveying a mix of irritation and suspicion at your intrusion into his private space. You can't fault him for his reaction; after all, he just caught you looking through his personal belongings that clearly no one but him is meant to see.
Hurriedly, you retreat to the safety of the laundry basket, clutching it as if it were a shield against his disapproval, "Sorry, Heeseung," you stammer, offering a feeble explanation for your presence, "I-I was just putting your laundry away."
Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he assesses your explanation. The silence between you stretches taut, punctuated only by the distant hum of the house.
After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung finally speaks, his voice cool and measured, "You know the rules, Y/N, leave it outside," he admonishes, his tone firm.
"Sorry, Heeseung," you murmur, bowing your head as his reprimand sinks in. Your body feels clammy with sweat, a lump forming in your throat, and your heart pounding erratically. It's unnerving to be alone with him for the first time, leaving you feeling timid and inferior in his presence.
Heeseung strides further into the room, his figure imposing as he sets about restoring the box you disrupted, methodically arranging his treasures back into order. As you watch his back, uncertainty gnaws at you, weighing your options for the next move. You're aware that he expects you to leave, and perhaps you should for your own sake. Yet, this unexpected encounter presents an opportunity you've been yearning for - a chance to pose the questions that Jongseong has been evading.
"You're not like the other 3, are you?" you venture timidly, hoping to broach the subject without eliciting a harsh response from him.
Heeseung straightens up, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows arching in surprise at your question. "What? Because I haven't fucked you, is that what you mean?" His tone drips with disdain at your observation, his words sharp and cutting.
"No, it's not that," you hurriedly clarify, sensing his hostility, "It's just...your aura, it's different," you explain despite struggling to put your thoughts into words.
Heeseung's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at your unexpected comment. "Different? How so?" he asks, curiosity replacing the initial edge of hostility.
You take a cautious step forward, emboldened by his slightly less defensive demeanour, "It's hard to explain," you admit, searching for the right words to articulate the subtle but distinct quality that sets him apart. "It's like... there's a depth to you, something...darker," you struggle to find the right description, hoping he'll understand that you aren’t trying to call him evil, even if that is what you are eluding to.
Tilting his head, Heeseung starts to smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He licks the side of his mouth casually before speaking, his tone teasing, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"
You don’t, that’s quite obviously the issue you’re having. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes because fuck whatever would come from that. So instead, you settle for shaking your head, hoping he will elaborate of his own accord.
The curiosity is evident on his face as he steps forward slightly, “You mean to tell me you’ve been here almost 2 months, fucked each of my brothers more times than I can count, and you still don’t know who we are?”
Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Heeseung's blunt question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It’s not through lack of trying, you have turned over every book, looked on every shelf, and bobby pinned your way into locks, yet you’re still in the dark.
Your silence only seems to fuel Heeseung's wicked merriment, his smirk widening into a sharp grin as he peers straight through you. "I really thought Jongseong would have caved by now. God knows how he really does love to paint himself as still a saint."
Drawing in a deep breath, Heeseung prepares to reveal the truth you've been longing to uncover. Your body stills as you realise this is finally it, everything you’ve been wanting, no, needing to know - he is about to let you in.
"We're from all over heaven and hell," he explains, his voice tinged with amusement that was targeted at your now shocked expression, "angels and demons, Baby, that’s what we are."
As his words sink in, you find yourself ensnared in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. Angels and demons? The implications of such a revelation send a shiver down your spine.
Of course, they weren't human, you knew that much, but how can they be otherworldly beings straight out of myths, the kind you only hear about in churches and Supernatural episodes? The concept is difficult to fully process, leaving you grappling with a reality that feels more like a dream - or perhaps a nightmare. You would have been much more settled if they were the ghosts of those who lived here previously - this being one of the many guesses you made about their lives.
You've grown to adore the dolls, cherishing their presence above all else. But the newfound knowledge that some of them are demons sends a chill down your spine, casting a shadow of unease over your once-idyllic existence.
Sensing your need for clarity, Heeseung's voice breaks through the tumult of your thoughts. "Who do you want to know about first?" he inquires as his eyebrows raise, "I think it's only right that we start with your little angel, hmmm?"
Jaeyun.
Nodding, you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say.
“You’ll be glad to know, your lover boy is an angel,” he starts to explain and you already feel a relief wash over you. If Jaeyun was an evil spirit, that would have destroyed any perception you had of him, leaving you to question the authenticity of the connection you share; the idea that he could have manipulated you would hurt your soul more than you’d like to admit.
You see Heeseung weigh up his next words, “Well…not quite, he should have been but I stopped that from happening,” he confesses, feigning remorse for his doings, “He was actually meant to be a guardian angel. When he died in an accident, his soul was so pure he was handpicked to be someone's personal dove boy.”
“Wait, what do you mean you stopped it?” you ask almost immediately, your curiosity outweighing any other emotion as he speaks.
"He was wandering the veil, the in-between of life and death, waiting to be guided to heaven when I heard him crying out, confused and scared. He died too soon, but that greedy fuck up the stairs clearly couldn’t let him just live out his life the way he wanted to."
There’s anger in his voice as he speaks; it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about God. You’ve always been taught that there is a plan for everyone, that no matter what happens, it’s the right path. Clearly, Heeseung doesn’t share the same outlook.
“So I answered his call and guided him to Soonyeol and the rest of us. Jaeyun only wanted to be loved and cherished his whole life, that was his dream, and I granted it in exchange for his memories,” he sees you poised with another question, but he stops you, raising a hand to silence you, “If you’re going to ask why I did that, it’s because he wouldn’t have coped otherwise, and he would have looked at us in anger rather than love.”
You have so many new questions, but as you go to speak, you can’t. Your mouth is dry, and your throat holds back a sob. You feel awful as you think about Jaeyun being scared after death, calling out for help, and in the end being stripped of his memories. Heeseung is acting as if he did him a favour - and in some way, he has - but he has also torn him away from his path.
As you struggle to find the right words to express your thoughts, Heeseung's gaze softens if only slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I know it's a lot to take in," he offers gently, his tone devoid of its usual edge, "But trust me when I say that Jaeyun is happier here than he ever was in his old life, and certainly more than he would be as a guardian. Soonyeol needed someone to look after and that’s all he has ever wanted; It’s a win-win.”
“So this was all for Soonyeol? Be honest with me,” you ask, picking up on his last sentence.
With a definitive nod, Heeseung doesn't deny your observation, "Everything that I have done is for her."
That piques your interest and the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place, “Does that mean you did the same with the others? You brought them here for Soonyeol’s benefit?”
He lets out a heavy exhale, his demeanour shifting as he crosses his arms. “You make it sound like I've wronged Jaeyun,” he counters, any trace of understanding vanishing as his cold manner returns to the forefront.
You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but you can’t help but call a spade a spade. Heaven is deemed difficult to enter - what with all the rules and hail mary’s - so for Jaeyun to be seen as holy enough to become someone’s guardian angel was a privilege he should have been able to experience.
Mirroring his posture, you cross your arms, a silent declaration of your determination. It might be foolish to stand toe to toe with him, considering his power to manipulate Jaeyun's memories and drag him to Earth, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness.
Heeseung grins, genuinely amused by your stance. He's impressed by your resolve, having pegged you for someone who would flee at the mere mention of demons. "You've got some backbone," Heeseung remarks, his grin widening as he observes your defiance, "I like that."
His words catch you off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, you can't help but feel a small swell of pride at his unexpected approval.
“So? The others?”
“No, the others actually asked for my help, Sunghoon was practically crying out and begging to be saved from his cell in hell,” Heeseung explains as he reminisces about his first encounter with Sunghoon.
You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the revelation, “So he is a demon?” you mumble to yourself, looking down at the ground. Honestly, you should have known, he fucks you like he was part of the incubus club. Yet he is also so tender in his actions, he helps you out and makes sure you’re okay, gives you forehead kisses and aftercare - it doesn’t scream evil.
Clicking his fingers, Heeseung points them at you, a mischievous wink fluttering over to you, “Bingo. Sunghoon used to be a soldier, serving under one of the rulers in hell, Dis. The guy was made from remains of Lucifer, the Devil, whatever you want to call him, and because of that, he thought he was some big shot, ordering his soldiers to do horrific things, things even I wouldn’t do.”
You stand wide-eyed, taking in his words. You can't help but feel sorrow for Sunghoon, knowing how tormented he must have been in the depths of hell. It's an odd realisation to feel pity for a demon who you know must be bad enough to be prevented from entering Heaven.
"He couldn’t bear the torture anymore and he rebelled against Dis. Sunghoon has always despised authority; his only desire is to be in control, making him public enemy number one in the underworld. Ever been to jail in hell?" it's a rhetorical question because of course you haven’t, but you shake your head answering anyway. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sunghoon managed to contact me, pleading to do anything to escape. Hence, here he is.”
“What did he have to sacrifice? Or do you only make deals with angels?” you blurt out unintentionally, your distaste for Heeseung's methods bubbling to the surface.
“I’d watch that fucking tongue of yours before I tear it out and feed it to the dogs.”
Heeseung's threat hangs heavy in the air, his words laced with a chilling intensity that raises goosebumps over your body. You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you.
Clearing your throat, you attempt to steer the conversation back on track, knowing there is so much more to uncover, "I’m sorry, Heeseung," you say, your voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lingering within you, "I just want to understand.”
Heeseung appears satisfied with your apology, though his next words still carry a warning tone, “I heard a rumour you were a good girl. If you want to keep that reputation, I suggest you zip it.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, memories of your nights with Jongseong flooding your mind. You recalled the countless times he had called you his good girl, his perfect angel.
He continues, delving into the details of his arrangement with Sunghoon. "Sunghoon gave me his powers and his word," he explained, his tone taking on a grave seriousness, "I made it clear to him that he could have paradise with a girl who wanted some direction in her life, but if he ever laid an unwanted finger on her, I would hand his head to Dis myself."
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of the intricate power dynamics at play within the household, each member bound by their own set of rules and obligations.
“The only person he has to answer to is Soonyeol, an upgrade from being whipped and battered with iron chains, wouldn’t you say?” Heeseung steps closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of crimson, or maybe it's just your imagination. All this information must be taking its toll on you, the headache forming in your frontal lobe might be tricking your eyes.
Heeseung's piercing gaze bores into yours and you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised, as if he were sizing you up as his next potential victim. Despite the growing discomfort prickling at the back of your mind, you steeled yourself, maintaining a carefully constructed facade of composure to shield against falling for his traps.
“And Jongseong? He’s a demon too?” you inquire quietly.
“Baby, he’s the furthest thing from it. In fact, you must have some powers of your own to get him to fuck you,” Heeseung responds with a scoff, his laughter ringing with a hint of mockery. He shakes his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion of you and Jongseong together.
Heeseung's amusement fades into a knowing smile as he watches your face turn to confusion, "Jongseong is no demon, darling. He's a full-fledged guardian angel, just like Jaeyun was supposed to be," he explains, rendering you shocked.
Everything about Jongseong falls into place; how he's been looking after you from the very beginning, with his caring demeanour, always urging you to do what’s best, and his unwavering efforts to provide comfort and ease. It's just who he is.
As you reflect on Jongseong's constant care and support, a sense of gratitude washes over you. Jongseong has remained a steadfast presence, guiding you through the labyrinth of this otherworldly realm; he didn’t have to show you the altar or delve into how they were summoned, but he did to ease your mind, all the while shielding you from its evil secrets. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s that he was protecting you from the hell of it all.
But if he is a guardian angel, he is too good to be here with a demon and a lost soul.
“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be the guardian of his human or something-” Just as the sentence passes your lips, your mouth falls open, eyes popping out of your head as you answer your own question, “He is Soonyeol’s guardian angel, isn’t he?”
Heeseung smiles proudly and claps his hands once. "You are one smart cookie," he observes, his tone without sarcasm for once.
“Shouldn’t guardian angels be silent? Like a gut feeling?”
Heeseung answers you with a casual shrug, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, hence the doll costume. Actually…it's my fault he's stuck like that," he admits, his face scrunched up as he contemplates whether you will find his actions disconcerting or admirable. "Soonyeol wasn't listening to his pleas, she ignored her instinct, so he made himself visible - which by the way is a number one no-no up there,” he points out before continuing, “he wanted to warn her of the consequences of her actions. As a result, he lost his wings, God cut the tie between them and demoted him to a simple heaven walker. It was all quite a scandal.”
You don’t know what to say, how can you say anything when all you want to do is curse out everyone who had a part to play in Soonyeol and Jongseong’s parting?
“Then he tried to see her again, defying God and his stupid ‘disapproving actions have consequences’ bullshit. Jongseong was deemed to be sinful and therefore, poof,” Heeseung explains further, twinkling his fingers as if it were a cloud of smoke, “He was banished to heaven’s wasteland forever.”
Amusement that seems to dance in Heeseung's eyes feels wrong as if there's a sick happiness he derives from Jongseong's misery. You know angels and demons have never seen eye to eye but they are close enough to call one another ‘brother’, surely that has to stand for some sympathy?
Sensing your disapproval, Heeseung wipes the smile from his face, his demeanour turning cold. "Judge me all you want, Baby, but I helped him get her back," he asserts, his voice dripping with venom, "Without me, he wouldn't be near her." There's a bitter edge to his tone, a hint of resentment seeping through his words.
"God wanted Jongseong to never see her again, but I knew that would hurt her," he continues, his eyes flashing with intensity, "A guardian angel and their human have a bond that is stronger than any love you can even imagine, especially when they come into contact. He couldn’t live without her, his desperate longing ached so loud that’s all I could fucking hear for weeks. So I got him out of that heaven hole and brought him closer to her than he ever was."
The raw emotion in Heeseung's words sends a chill down your spine, his bitterness and resentment palpable in the air. You feel for Jongseong, caught in the crossfire of divine politics and human emotions. He only wanted to protect her and he got scolded for it, reprimanded for fulfilling his duty to her, that part is tripping you up the most. Well, that and one other thing.
"This is so confusing," you exclaim, rubbing your temples in frustration. "So it's your fault he's the doll because? Surely the real reason would be whatever he was trying to protect her from, the thing that caused him to show himself."
With a smirk, Heeseung nods, pointing to himself. "Yeah, that was me," he admits unabashedly, "She was summoning me."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Heeseung's admission. "She was summoning you?" you repeat, incredulous.
Heeseung nods, his smirk widening into a joyful grin. "Yep," he confirms, pride creeping into his tone. "She called, and I answered.”
The implications of Heeseung's revelation leave you speechless. Soonyeol's actions inadvertently set off a chain of events that ultimately led to Jongseong's downfall. It's a sobering reminder of the unpredictable nature of their world and the consequences of meddling with forces beyond control.
"Why you?" you finally manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung steps forward, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. His presence looms over you, casting a shadow of unease, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself," he says, bowing his head with a wicked grin, "I'm Heeseung, formally known as Beelzebub.
I'm a Prince of Hell."
The world spins groggily around you, your limbs going numb as the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You find yourself at a loss, grappling with the realisation that you've been living with none other than the Lord of the Flies himself.
Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, holds a position of immense power and authority in the underworld. As the third in command, he wields influence and dominion over legions of demons, surpassing even the mightiest of Archangels in strength and cunning.
Despite your limited knowledge of demonology, you understand enough to know that Beelzebub is not to be trifled with. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of humans and angels alike, a testament to his formidable reputation and malevolent nature.
As Heeseung's hand brushes against your cheek, a reflexive flinch courses through you. "Don't be scared of me now, Baby," he says, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. There's a hint of amusement in his tone as he relishes the unease he elicits from you, "I'm actually enjoying your questions. Go on, hit me with another one."
He is far too casual about this, then again, he has known of his identity forever so he has no reason to be startled.
You hesitate, unsure of what question to pose next. The revelation of Heeseung's true identity has left your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest, and palms sweaty. There’s no doubt he senses how your nerves are rattled, that smug look on his face says it all.
But you need answers so you compose yourself and pull up your big girl pants.
Gathering your thoughts, you finally muster the courage to speak, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Why did Soonyeol summon you?”
His facial expression shifts from smug to something softer, a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes as he reminisces about Soonyeol and their relationship. "She called me," he begins, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia, "A young girl who couldn’t find her place in the world. All she wanted was to be lifted from her toxic family and find the serenity she needed."
"And you granted her wish?" you prompt, eager to understand the dynamics of their relationship and the extent of Heeseung's influence over Soonyeol's life.
Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did, I gave her all of this," he confirms, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection as he gestures around him, speaking of the house and the dolls which live in it, "I offered her a way out, a chance to escape her past and forge a new destiny. And in return, she granted me her loyalty, devotion, and eventually, her soul."
The discovery of Soonyeol’s past leaves you reeling, your perception of her shifting in an instant. Here you were, thinking she was all-powerful and commanding, when in reality, she was just a scared girl in her twenties. The thought of what she must have endured, what drove her to call upon a demon for help, fills you with a profound sense of empathy and compassion.
If Heeseung granted Soonyeol her deepest desires, if he offered her a way out of her suffering, then what does that say about his own motivations? After all, as a Prince of Hell, he could have chosen to do whatever he pleased. Yet, he chose to stay loyal to Soonyeol.
Then, just like that, it hits you: he must love her in some capacity. It's the only explanation for his unwavering loyalty, for his willingness to sacrifice some of his own freedom for her sake.
You breathe out softly, nodding as you agree with your mind, “You love her, don’t you? That’s why you stick around and give her anything she wants, even if that means letting herself indulge in more than just you.”
He scoffs and laughs loudly, making you jump back slightly, “Y/N, this isn’t a soppy fairytale or one of your romance novels. I’m a Prince of Hell, not Prince Charming. I’m incapable of love,” his face is bright, tittering at even the implication, “I am fond of her though, I will admit. She has a charm about her that intrigues me.”
“Then why do you stay, fondness isn’t enough to stay in this house,” you question, a little more confident now that his protective guard is down.
He pauses, mulling over your question before responding, “I promised I would give her what she needs, and she needs me,” he explains, his voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone. As he moves closer to you, his signature smirk returns, “And I don’t break my promises, Y/N.”
You tremble a little, the lowering octave in his voice causes your knees to quake and heart to still. As Heeseung's body towers closer, you find yourself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, the allure of his enigmatic persona drawing you in like a moth to a flame.
His menacing smirk widens as he watches your reaction, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you can't quite decipher. Just being this close to him is making your body react in a way it shouldn’t, your thighs rubbing together as he looks into your eyes, seeking to find out what’s going on in your brain.
And unfortunately for you, he’s good at picking up your signals.
"What do you need, Y/N? Let me help you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that resonates deep within you. You take a step back, intending to create some distance between you, but your legs betray you, colliding with the edge of the bed and sending you stumbling backwards.
Just as you brace for impact, Heeseung is there, his strong arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through your veins as he steadies you effortlessly. "See? You can trust me," he reassures, his voice low and hypnotic as he holds you close.
His words slice through the air like a siren's call, drawing you nearer despite the warning bells in your mind. As Heeseung's eyes lock with yours, vulnerability washes over you, a desire to confide in him, to bare the depths of your desires.
“I know what you want anyway. Your soul has been calling out for it. I can hear you crying out, just like I did the others,” his grip on your waist tightens.
You stay still, pondering his words. How can he hear your soul’s desires when you’ve been grappling and searching to figure out what you want your entire life? You moved to the big city for university because you thought it was a sure cut way to achieve fulfilment, only to find unhappiness. You entered relationships yearning for love, only to hide away from the commitment when it all got too real.
In all your existence, you have never known what you want.
But he does, you can see it in his eyes, “What do I want, Heeseung?” you ask both curiously and longingly, hoping he can shed some light upon you.
“You want this life, with us,” Heeseung says matter of factly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as the scared expression turns into one of perplexion, “Don’t you see it? How you took Soonyeol’s place so easily, falling into her role like you were born to be ours, like we were made for you.”
His words linger, thick with insinuation. You study his eyes for signs of deception, but all you see is sincerity, a profound conviction that sends shivers down your spine because deep down within you, you know it’s true too.
Ever since you set foot in this house, you've felt it - a subtle shift in the air, a stirring of something dormant within you. In the city, you lived in a tiny flat, unemployed and miserable, your only solace found in the familiar glow of your television screen as you binge-watched your favourite shows for the umpteenth time.
But here, in the mansion, it's different. Cleaning its halls and tending to the dolls and their needs, it's given you a purpose you thought you had lost along the way. Each day brings with it a renewed sense of fulfilment, a feeling of being truly alive in a way you haven't felt in years.
You want this life, you’ve fallen in love with its routine and stability, how each day you wake up and roam the halls, admiring the artwork and serenity in the echoes of your footsteps. The silence of it all makes your heart weep with joy, the boys you have come to cherish - even now, despite knowing about their supernatural entities and the mass power they hold - you love them dearly.
Heeseung, as if reading your mind, smirks and licks his lips, “You feel alive, don’t you?” He knows you do, he can see it in your eyes and the feel of your blood rushing along your veins. Mia was right when she said you were glowing all but two weeks ago. You’re radiant, like you have your own personal sun perched upon your shoulder, giving you an incandescent glow.
You’re finally happy.
“You also want one more thing,” Heeseung’s voice is a mere whisper now, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. Your pupils dilate as you lock eyes with him, his presence drawing you in as if he's reaching into the depths of your soul, rummaging around inside to pull you apart, “You’ve been craving me.”
A visceral energy electrifies every nerve ending in your body as he speaks, the expectation crackling in the air. You're standing on the verge of something exciting and new, and it feels like time has stopped still. The intensity of his stare searing into yours, the heat of his fingers against your back as he dips them up your shirt makes you shakily exhale the breath you were holding.
He rubs his beautiful, sharp nose against yours, closing his eyes as he reads further into your heart, “You feel like you’re missing out on me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sinister undertones, because he knows he has you exactly where he wants you.
It’s embarrassing but it’s true, even if you don’t wish to admit it to yourself. You don’t want to seem ungrateful to the other three because truly they have given you everything you could ever need; but no amount of fulfilment from them can stop your aching body, wanting nothing more than to have the doll in front of you, the one who is currently holding you so tightly that you should feel trapped, yet you’ve never felt more liberated.
As his arms tighten around you, holding you in a suffocating grip, you find your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty, "You never showed any interest in me. I didn’t think you wanted me."
A wicked grin twists across Heeseung's lips, his eyes glinting with malice as he leans down to your neck, licking a long stripe up your jugular, savouring your taste on his tongue. He can’t stop the rumble of a chuckle coming from his chest.
“Baby, you just seemed to be having such a good time with my brothers; who was I to deny them your presence?” Heeseung nips are your skin, eliciting a moan from your dry throat. The air around you both is stifling, the atmosphere heavy with want and greed because you both know what is about to happen, even if you want to stop it - which you don’t.
Heeseung’s allure is too powerful for you to deny, it’s easy to see how Soonyeol got sucked in so easily, wanting him in her life and summoning him here forever. His touch though, is another level of intoxication entirely. His large hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends your mind reeling, drowning in a sea of exhilaration.
As you part your lips to speak, Heeseung watches you with predatory patience, knowing that whatever words escape your mouth, they will only serve to further his agenda. In this moment, you are merely a pawn in his twisted game, powerless to defy the inexorable pull of his dark charisma.
“Jongseong said you don’t like to be last,” you say, discretely questioning his reasoning for not coming into contact with you sooner.
Laughing, Heeseung shakes his head with a sinister delight. His bottom lip grazes up your chin, dragging closer until it hovers mere millimetres from your mouth, “Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wanted you to experience them first and let them have some fun with you,” he presses you harshly against him, letting you feel his thick cock against your heat, causing you to whimper slightly, much to his approval.
He kisses your lips every so lightly, your instincts to chase his mouth with yours only adding to his amusement. You’re such a strong-willed girl, he knows that by how he has observed you and how long you have remained in this house despite the constant terror and unease it has bestowed upon you. So to see you utterly weak like this is fueling his desire like crazy.
You look at him, waiting for him to talk again and say anything that would give you both the green light to divulge your sins.
“I let them have you because if I got to you first,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, and you can feel the smugness radiating from him, "You wouldn’t have even looked their fucking way."
Heat surges through you, an uncomfortable arousal that threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to contain the torrent of desire within you. It's as if every inch of your skin is on fire, and you long to shed it all off your bones just to cool the burning sensation. The wetness between your legs is undeniable as it practically runs down your thighs.
Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his kisses trailing along your neck and jawline and your hands clench at your sides, tension and lust swirling within you. If this is going to happen, it's going to happen now, forcing you to confront the question that looms over you like a dark cloud,
Are you going to fuck a Prince from Hell?
There are so many wrongs to counteract the rightness of this moment, knowing that this is territory foreign to the others you’ve laid with. They might be celestial beings but Heeseung is a God in his own right and he fucking knows it.
You can feel his amusement radiating off him as he watches you struggle with your inner thoughts, relishing in your torment as you wrestle with the pros and cons of surrendering to him completely. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remains clear:
You want him. More than anything, you want to give in to the temptation that beckons you toward him, to lose yourself in the darkness that surrounds him. And as you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, you know that no matter the consequences, you're ready to embrace the inferno that awaits.
“So…can I ruin them for you?”
He looks at you using the triangle method and you almost physically fall to your knees, each time his eyes dart between your mouth and eyes, you feel saliva forming at the corner of your lip, lustfully loving his hooded eyes as he stares down at you. The way he assesses you, with a predatory focus that makes your heart race, leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
But you want to fuck him so bad, you think you might die.
With a skip of your heart, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. It's all the confirmation Heeseung needs and in an instant, his lips crash down on yours, a collision that would make Asmodeus jealous.
His touch is paradoxical, you can feel the roughness of his grip on your right tit, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips, and it only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. It’s obvious you're not alone in your craving; Heeseung has been consumed by thoughts of you since the first moment he laid eyes on you, a primal urge driving him to mark you as his own.
And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know that there's no turning back.
"I'm gonna fucking destroy every other man for you," he growls before roughly pushing you onto the bed, the severity of which causes you whiplash.
In urgency, Heeseung hastily works to remove your bottoms, his hands precise with anticipation, making sure he doesn’t lose another second. The fabric slides off your hips with ease, revealing the glistening wetness between your thighs and the cold air kisses your exposed cunt, making you shiver.
Heeseung's middle finger traces along your folds, collecting some of your slick arousal and spreading it with sinful precision, applying pressure on points you’re sensitive. As he teases you, his voice drips with a mixture of amusement and wicked desire.
"Your cunt is drooling over a demon, are you not embarrassed?" he taunts, his words laced with a dark edge that ignites a fierce blush on your cheeks. What’s worse is that his mockery only serves to stoke the lust within you, your hole clenching involuntarily in response.
Unfortunately for you, he notices, his chuckle knowing. "I do love a girl with no shame," he mumbles, his voice thick as he revels in the sight of your unabashed arousal.
With a predatory glint in his eyes, Heeseung wastes no time diving in, his mouth and tongue delving into your slick folds with a hunger that borders on ravenous. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as he explores every inch of your dripping sex with unrestrained fervour.
His movements are uninhibited, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against your sensitive nub as he seeks to consume you entirely. Each wet, sloppy lick and suck sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.
In the throes of pleasure, your instinctive reach to grab Heeseung's hair proves to be your first mistake. Before your fingers can even brush against his roots, he retaliates with a harsh bite on your clit, causing you to recoil with a cry, tears welling in your eyes.
“I didn’t say you could touch me, did I?” he warns, his mouth still wet with your juices as he looks up at you with a mix of dominance and satisfaction.
The memory of your first encounter with Jongseong floods your mind, the way he punished you for your disobedience is still vivid in your memory. It was meant to deter you from acting out, and in his case, it did. But now, with Heeseung, the desire to be reprimanded once again ignites within you, a need that demands satisfaction.
Jongseong awakened something inside of you, a craving for submission and punishment that you never knew existed. And now, with Heeseung, you yearn to explore it on a new level, one that a sweet angel like Jongseong is too kind to deliver.
It’s exciting and foolish all at once.
Gently, you run your hands through his hair, feeling the texture of it between your fingers as you grasp at his roots.
Heeseung's reaction is immediate, his body tensing at your touch even as a low growl rumbles in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he leans into your touch, his tough facade cracking ever so slightly as a faint tremor runs through him. It's a fleeting moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armour he wears so proudly.
For a brief instant, you glimpse the man behind the Prince of Hell, a creature of darkness with desires and needs of his own. You ponder if this is what Soonyeol gives him, if that is why he is so reluctant to enjoy your comforting touch.
But before you can think much more about it, he reacts with swift brutality, sinking his teeth harshly down on your clit once more. The pain is searing, a sharp shock that tears a cry of both pain and pleasure from your lips. It's a punishment, yes, but one that you oh so desperately want.
His teeth sink in with immense force that causes you so much pain you try to escape, kicking your legs to scramble from him. But that only makes things worse as he grips your thighs with might to hold you in place, bruises and indents already forming under his nails. He adds a cruel twist, pulling at your bug sharply, causing your hips to rise instinctively towards his mouth in a futile attempt to ease the agony.
But Heeseung isn't fooled by your subtle movements. He catches on quickly, his grip tightening on your clit before he roughly pushes you down onto the bed, his palm pressing forcefully into your stomach to keep you in place.
"Don't make me rip it off," he growls, his eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger and lust. It's a warning laced with danger, a reminder of the power he wields over you, “You’re so good for Jongseong, his…what did he call you? his ‘good little girl’, was that it?” he asks you with a condescending tone.
How did he know about that?
Your eyes widen and he idly rubs your pussy painfully slowly, sighing out loud with over-exaggeration, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Heeseung's knowledge of your intimate dynamics with Jongseong sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though moving torturously slowly, ignite sensations that both excite and terrify you.
“What? You thought you could call upon the entirety of Hell and word wouldn’t get back to me?”
That night when Jongseong set your underwear ablaze and used your essence as a way to reach the pits below you. They heard it all; your whimpering and moaning for the angel, how you begged him to fuck you, and how he called you his good girl.
Which means Heeseung heard it all…
Spitting on your pussy, he licks it back up, the white foam sitting on his tongue as he draws it back into his mouth slowly. It’s another way of torturing you, of giving you a piece of him while just as quickly taking it away.
“If you can be a good girl for him, why aren’t you being one for me?” Heeseung's faux pout and slumped shoulders mask the dominance in his tone. With each flick of his finger, he revives the pain back onto your rose, denying you any reprieve.
You whimper with each taunt, wishing he would just go back to sucking your clit, to lick the wounds he created - but this is what you get when you play with fire.
Breathing out slowly, you nod, relenting your notion to be punished…for now.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” you say sorrowfully, thrusting your clit up as you serve yourself to him on a plate.
Heeseung pauses, his expression shifting as he considers your apology. For a moment, it seems as though he might relent, his features softening with the faintest hint of hesitation. But then, with a wicked glint in his eyes, he shakes his head slowly.
"You know," he muses, his voice dripping with amusement, "I've always had a preference for bad girls." You almost moan out loud, the way his voice changed gear from one of anger to one so sultry you can forecast rain for the next two days.
He kisses your clit softly and slowly with his petal-soft lips. The lewd sounds of his mouth combined with your wetness elicit tiny whines from your lips, creating a symphony of want and distress. It's an ennui unlike any other you've ever known, a dizzying combination of pleasure and agony that leaves you wanting more.
Heeseung's lips dip lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explores every inch of your quivering flesh. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.
"You want more, don’t you?" Heeseung's voice is a low murmur against your skin as he continues his tormenting actions. Each kiss, each caress sends ripples of sensation through you, building the tension to unbearable heights.
Before you can render yourself to say anything, he delves back in, his tongue now swirling in your hole, like he’s digging for treasure. You grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch.
What doesn’t help is when you look down at him and see him smirking up at you, rubbing his nose against your clit. It’s enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs seize up.
“Oh god, Heeseung..." you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless whisper as pleasure washes over you in waves.
He draws back, his eyes ablaze with raw desire, "That's right, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. "I am your God now."
As you close your eyes, you suddenly feel two of his fingers delving into you, the sensation causing your back to arch, thus, pushing your heat further into his face. Everything you are experiencing right now is so overwhelming, there is no let-up and you think this is both the most painful and best you have ever felt.
Heeseung’s concentration is solely on you cumming undone, wanting only to see your face when you are overcome with bliss. He has had to spend 6 weeks or so listening to his brothers talk about how beautiful and ethereal you look as the whites of your eyes take over; now it’s his turn.
Curling his fingers inside you, he beckons your orgasm forward, pushing against the spongy flesh of your walls, his middle digit hitting deliciously against a soft spot while he flicks his tongue over your bud. You wriggle beneath him, soft moans escaping your lips as you feel your tummy coil.
Heeseung's efforts are rewarded as your body responds to his touch, pleasure building to a crescendo until it explodes within you. With a crying scream, you call out his name, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head as you ride the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.
Your body arches, seeking both escape from his relentless touch and yet craving more of the intoxicating sensation he provides. In that moment of release, you are utterly and completely lost to him, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he elicits from you.
Out of every orgasm you’ve had, this is the one that has rendered you completely dumb, incapable of doing anything more than panting and twitching.
But Heeseung doesn't grant you a moment to catch your breath. Even as your body shudders with the aftershocks of your climax, he commands you, his voice laced with authority. "Sit up," he orders, his tone brooking no argument as he guides you into a sitting position, his hand gripped tight in your hair as he yanks you forward. The air crackles with anticipation as you have no choice but to comply, “Strip me, baby.”
Without a second thought, you mindlessly rise to your feet, your fingers fumbling eagerly with the hem of Heeseung's loose white t-shirt. In one swift motion, you pull it over his head and toss it aside, your gaze hungrily tracing the contours of his bare chest. You want nothing more than to touch him, to caress his delicate skin with your hands, but you’re scared it’ll temper him into ripping all of this away from you.
Returning to sit on the bed with renewed enthusiasm, you focus your attention on his baggy grey joggers, swiftly untying the strings and pulling them down to reveal his naked form beneath. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his arousal, his impressive length standing semi-hard before you.
Without hesitation, you reach out and grasp his cock, feeling the heat of his faux skin beneath your fingertips. With a sense of urgency, you press your lips to his flushed tip, desperate to taste him before he can deny you the pleasure.
You lick at his shaft like he’s a frozen popsicle on a swarming hot summer day, your need driving your hurry as you coat him in saliva. The more you lick, the harder he gets and his throat has to hold back groans.
Heeseung's initial instinct is to reprimand you for your boldness, for daring to take control in such a way, but unlike Jongseong, he has little self-control, the pleasure he’s feeling as your mouth envelopes him fully is more than enough cause to let you continue.
As his mouth relaxes and his eyes screw shut, you take advantage of the opportunity to explore him further, dropping your head to focus on his balls. The sensation is amazing, sending pleasure-filled sparks through his body as he surrenders part of himself to you.
You’re so drunk on his cock right now that you don’t even care how desperate you look, you just need him in every way possible. If he asked, you would probably fuck him in his demon form; as long as you could taste him on your tongue, that is all that matters.
Heeseung pushes your head back abruptly, his fingernails digging deep into your scalp, causing a disgruntled whine to fall from your mouth.
The throbbing between your legs beats loudly in your eardrums as you look up and see his eyes, that same red flickering behind his pupils except this time, they swirl with a deep black cloud. You can tell he’s aching to be released from the confines of the doll suit, to break free and absolutely devour you in his true form.
You should feel scared, petrified even, yet you only long for him more.
“You’ll never make it to heaven with a tongue like that, Baby.”
His words, spoken with a hint of warning, only serve to fuel the fire burning within you, "What makes you think I want to go to heaven?" you retort, your voice dripping with desire and defiance.
With a sly smirk, Heeseung leans in closer, sending shivers down your spine, "Maybe you prefer the flames of hell," he murmurs, his tone laced with dark promise, "And I'll be more than happy to escort you there myself."
Heeseung's hand grips your hair with a firmness that borders on possessive. He then thrusts his cock into your mouth with commanding force, the sudden intrusion eliciting a gasp of surprise from you, causing you to choke slightly.
But that doesn’t stop him, instead, he just continues to batter your throat with his length brutally, each punch of his hips only further bruising your oesophagus. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Yet, why do you love it? The feeling of your world almost going black, the way your body tightens around nothing but the desire to breathe, it’s deadly but you couldn’t be more alive.
Feeling you splurt out tiny breathes around his dick as you gasp for air, Heeseung pulls your head back, letting oxygen breathe back into your lungs.
He takes the moment to admire you; your hair tousled in his hands, your mascara smudging slightly around your eyes, and the spit mixed with some beads of his precum sliding slowly down your chin. You’re angelic, demonic, and everything he could ever want right now.
You’re so horny that not having his cock filling up one of your holes is leaving you whimpering, tears forming in your eyes - not from pain but need. You need to feel him in some way, you are starving for him, and one more second without tasting him might send you into madness.
And Heeseung knows it, he can hear your greatest, deepest desires after all. The thought of you under his spell without him using a single persuasive tactic is euphoric to him. Through the years, Soonyeol has grown accustomed to him, expecting his demanding nature but never truly worshipping him the way he wants; not the way you are right now.
This might only be for tonight but he will try and make it last an eternity.
Huffing out in frustration, you grow tired of waiting for Heeseung to make his move, opting instead to brush your face across his throbbing cock. The sensation of his velvety shaft against your cheeks is phenomenal, the need for contact driving you to this demoralising state.
Closing your eyes, you relish in the tactile sensation, savouring the moment of intimacy as you slap his cock against your cheek and mouth. The hunger within you demands satisfaction, and you're willing to take whatever scraps of pleasure you can get, even if it's just the simple touch of his arousal against your skin.
“You’re so fucking filthy, baby,” he growls, his eyes blown in ecstasy while he watches you lather yourself with his member, “Are you that much of a cockslut?”
Absentmindedly you nod, owning up to the degrading nickname because, at the end of the day, that is exactly what you are right now; a cockslut, an ever-needing, desperate cockslut for none other than the high-ranking Prince of Hell.
Nudging your nose with his tip, you beg him like a dog to let go of your hair and stuff your mouth full once again. The mewls leaving your mouth flood Heeseung’s ears and he understands that you’re too far gone to form a sentence, so he grants your wish and shoves himself back into you.
His hips buck forward with a fierce urgency that sends your head shaking with each forceful thrust. The intensity of his movements makes your eyes roll back, driving you deeper into a state of arousal as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm.
But with your mouth full, your pussy is feeling dangerously left out, your entire heat seeking some form of release. Without realising it, you start to hump the air, moving your hips as though you were grinding on his cock.
Heeseung's movements falter for a moment as he notices your struggle to find complete pleasure. With a low grow, he halts his thrusts, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest.
“Look at you,” he points out, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, watching as your juices leak out your cunt, staining his sheets a darker shade.
Smirking, he places his foot on the edge of the bed, pressing ever so lightly onto your dripping heat. You gasp and pop off his cock, looking down as you see your way to much-needed relief. Heeseung steps on you roughly, offering you a sturdy anchor which you eagerly accept. Despite the pain as the ball of his foot presses against your clit, you push your body against it, relishing in the firmness of his sole against your skin; you’ll take any relief you can get.
Every movement sends a surge of electric pleasure coursing through you, the friction between your bodies. You grind against him with increasing intensity, your hips undulating in perfect rhythm with his foot as you chase after the elusive peak of ecstasy.
“Keep sucking it or I’ll take it away,” he warns, tapping his cock on your gaped mouth
The chilling warning from Heeseung serves as a reminder of the balance between pleasure and punishment. Taking his cock back into your mouth with newfound vitality, you return to your task with a sense of urgency. The taste of him is intoxicating, fueling your urge to please him and avoid the consequences of disobedience. You do not want him to take anything away from you.
He moves in tandem with your hips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you fuck yourself shamelessly on his foot as if you were a wanton whore in heat. Your hands gripping his leg for more leverage, seeking another release as fast as possible.
Humming around his length in a high-pitched cry, you climax violently, your impulse to thrust forward only shoving his cock farther into your throat, stretching it wide in ways you don't believe is humanly possible.
"Fuck-" Heeseung groans, the sound raw as he releases his thick ropes of cum down your throat, your climax setting off a chain reaction. His mouth hangs wide open as his throbbing shaft finds home in your canal, his eyebrows furrowed together as he loses himself. He can’t help but think what your perfect little pussy feels like as you cum, how it would squeeze him tighter than your throat can.
You are swimming in a pool of pure fire as you lose yourself to the engulfing of pleasure, riding his foot through your climax while swallowing his seed. This is a feeling you will never experience with any other man and you know now what he meant when he said you would never have looked at the others if he had his way with you first.
When both of your minds clear and your lungs are screaming out for oxygen, you pop off his cock, giving it an adoring kiss as a thank you for what has just happened and what it is about to do to you.
Looking down at you, Heeseung marvels at your display of gratitude, wishing every human was as worshipful.
“I’d love to rip that soul from your body and stuff you in a doll suit so I can fuck you forever.”
His admission catches you both off guard, the silence of the afternoon lying dormant around the room. Did he mean that? Did he want to take your soul and keep you? It’s plausible considering his history but to hear it being said about you makes your blood run cold.
But at this moment, if he asked you to let him in and take you, you might just let him - or maybe it was the emptiness of your cunt that was talking.
“I don’t need to be a doll to fuck until the moon shines and the sunrises,” you whisper, your lust completely taking over your body. The once timid and unsure version of yourself has faded into oblivion, replaced by someone bold, relentless, and consumed by the craving to be stuffed with his cock.
He audibly groans, hearing how keen you are for him to devour you, not even put off by his threatening admission just moments earlier. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head and shaking his thoughts, Heeseung lifts your chin and pulls on your bottom lip, staring at you as he figures out exactly how he wants you. He swipes his tongue along the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to hold you to that, baby. Get on all fours,” he instructs.
Doing as he says, you turn around and drop to your hands and knees, offering yourself up to him as your heart pounds in your chest in exhilaration. You wiggle your ass a bit, hoping he'll take the hint and dive in, fucking you as hard and fast as he so wishes.
Your ass is so perfect and plump he can’t help but grab at it, using his strong hands to knead your cheeks, pressing and pulling them apart as he takes quick glances at both of your holes. He wishes he had two cocks just to utterly destroy you with, each of your entrances filled with him as he pounds into you. Unfortunately, he only has one right now and he knows it’s your cunt that needs him the most, so he’ll save that idea for another time.
Grasping his cock, he slides it up and down your ass, shallowly tapping it to get him hard again, but with the way you’re already grasping the sheets in anticipation and your cunt is soaked with need, it doesn’t take him long. Heeseung strokes himself a couple of times before resting his tip at your gaping heat, the bell turning rosé as it pushes just slightly into you.
It's agonising, the way he waits there as though he's not equally consumed by the thought of rocking your world. He's deliberately drawing it out, savouring the anticipation, revelling in the sweet sound of your pleas, knowing that your cries for him are his ultimate desire fulfilled.
"Please, Heeseung," you whimper, arching your body towards him, desperate for the connection, but he always stays just out of reach, teasingly withholding what you crave.
You groan in frustration, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. He's in control, and you can't help but revel in the way he toys with you, pushing you to the brink of madness with his tantalising touch.
But there is only so much a girl can take, so with a resolute sparkle in your eyes, you make it clear that you will not be denied any longer. Ignoring his playful taunting, you reach between your bodies and direct his hardness to the entrance of your smooth heat. Swiftly, you impale yourself on him, a moan escaping your lips as you take him deep inside.
Heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily stunned by your boldness, but it's only for a minute before a wicked grin spreads across his face. You are so much more than he could have ever imagined.
Slapping your ass harshly, he hopes to still you but it only makes you rock onto him faster. You set a punishing pace, riding him with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of finally having him where you want him.
Again, he crashes his hand painfully against your cheek but you won’t stop, you can’t, his dick is so delicious as it sucks into your cunt. Rapidly, he hits you, one, two, three, four, all in quick strikes and all you can do is clench your pussy around him and moan, picking up your pace.
“I can’t even punish you because you love it,” he notes, leaning back to observe you in awe, loving how your body is starting to flush with sweat as you work overtime to take what you need from him.
“Fuck I wish you could see how pathetic you look right now.”
Gripping the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turn white as your chest tightens. The angle of his cock is hitting you so deliciously that you can’t even breathe properly or register a word he’s saying. All you heard was ‘pathetic’ and you agree with him because that’s how you’re backing yourself onto his long shaft.
Heeseung watches you in amazement, his own desire growing as he observes your relentless determination. "You love it, don't you?" he remarks, his voice laced with true admiration. He lets you have a few more moments of fun, clasping his hands at the back of his neck and pulling down, watching you with dangerous eyes. With the way your walls are closing in, he knows you’re close. “Tell me you love my cock.”
You nod, burying your face into the sheets as your coil threatens to snap, the harsh rhythm you set for yourself is faltering slightly as you reach your next climax. But when you don’t answer him and stroke his ego, it snaps Heeseung back into his domineering state.
Roughly bunching up your hair, he pulls your face from the bed and leans into your ear, his chest laid flat against your back, “Fucking answer me when I speak to you. Tell me you fucking love it,” he growls out his demands, ripping some of your hair from their roots.
Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper, you finally concede, unable to resist his commanding presence any longer. "I love it," you gasp, your voice strained with need as you surrender to his dominance. "I love your cock so fucking much!"
A satisfied smirk spreads across Heeseung's lips as he releases your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine in a possessive caress, "That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice sneering before pushing your head into the mattress.
From that moment on, the dynamic shifts entirely. Heeseung takes control with ruthless determination, smothering your face into the softness of the bedsheets. His strength overwhelms you as he holds you firmly in place, your features pressed into the fabric until you know you'll emerge from this session with a pounding headache.
Your muffled protests are lost in the sheets as Heeseung continues to assert his dominance, his grip unyielding. He piledrives into you, his foot now on the edge of the bed to give him more stability. His skin is furiously slapping against yours as he takes you brutally from behind.
"You wanted this, remember? Now, let me show you who's in charge."
Releasing your head, Heeseung grants you a moment to gulp in air, your chest heaving as you crave the sweet relief of oxygen. But his attention swiftly shifts, his hands now gripping your hips with a firmness that promises bruises, yet you welcome it eagerly. With each powerful thrust, he plunges deeper into you, his sizable cock filling you to the brim with each relentless motion.
With hunger burning in his eyes, Heeseung unleashes his pent-up desire upon you, each thrust a savage declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, his strength undeniable as he takes complete control.
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks in their wake, tangible evidence of his possession. Every time he thrusts, he claims you anew, his relentless rhythm driving you to the edge of sanity and pleasure.
The sound of your mingled moans fills the air, a symphony of ecstasy and pain as he pushes you to the brink and pulls you back again. Your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of sweat and sex, the slick friction of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony.
You’ve got a pussy that could even make demons pray, Heeseung thinks to himself. He could watch you all day, how your cunt swallows him like its sole purpose was to please his cock. But as much as he likes the shape of your body as he takes you from behind, he longs to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.
Heeseung flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as he continues to ravish you with unrestrained passion, his hands pressing hard on your waist. Your head spins as the world shifts, your back now pressed firmly against the mattress, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.
His eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips as he watches them with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, instinct taking over as he becomes entranced by the sight of your pretty mounds.
"You're so fucking gorgeous,” his voice husky with desire as he reaches out to caress your soft skin, his touch setting your nerves ablaze with longing. He seems so gentle right now, like the demon inside him has subsided. You cherish the tiny glimpses of his vulnerability, knowing they come few and far between.
The tender moment doesn’t last long though as he quickens his pace once more, the bed beneath you squeaking and whimpering along with you.
Suddenly, his hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers deftly seeking out your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you, but before you can protest, his touch becomes too much, too overwhelming.
"It's too much," you whimper, trying to push his hand away, but he only presses harder, his grip unyielding. "Please, Heeseung, it's too-"
"Shut up," he interrupts, his voice firm and devilish as he continues to play with you, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. "You love it, and you know it."
And you do, you love it so much more than you can even describe. Your body stiffens as you feel yourself about to experience your nth orgasm. Honestly, you’ve lost track of how many it is now, the whole night blending into one big bout of pleasure.
You arch your back as his bell strokes right along your soft spot, causing a wave of ecstasy to wash over you, your mouth opens as you let out an earth-shattering cry, “Holy fuck, Heeseung!”
But he shows no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming even more relentless as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a primal roar, you feel it - the sudden, intense release as pleasure explodes within you, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning.
Heeseung thinks, no, he knows this is what heaven looks like, it has to be; the way your body opens up as wide as it can go, laying yourself bare like this while chanting a ritual of profanities. You look like you’re being exorcised and it’s so fucking hot to him.
What he takes a minute to notice though, is how his stomach and arm are being covered in your release, pouring out of you so perfectly as you bathe him in your essence. You’re squirting for him.
Smirking, he doesn’t let up the flicks to your clit or the pointed thrusts into your pussy, he wants to see how long this can last.
As you thrash beneath him, Heeseung lifts your hips higher with his left arm, driving into you with even greater force, his movements relentless as he seeks to elicit every last drop of pleasure from you. With each thrust, your juices flow even more freely, coating him in a slick sheen of your arousal.
"Holy hell, Baby," he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you baptising me."
He chuckles to himself, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal as he revels in the sensation of being drenched in your ecstasy. If this was the holy water people spoke about, he might just turn up to church every Sunday.
The tears falling from your eyes at the overstimulation tell him it’s time to drive it home, to finally let go and satisfy his own needs once again. Slowly, he shifts his weight, positioning himself for the final act of surrender. With each deliberate movement, he inches closer to the edge, his desire burning fiercely as he prepares to claim what is rightfully his.
Entering you once more, he relishes in the sensation of your heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Each thrust brings him closer to the brink, his senses ablaze, and just like that, he is cumming inside of you, shooting ropes of his white seed deep into your womb.
You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him, unable to get a good visual last time with his cock stuffed deep into your throat. You expect to see his vulnerability as with climaxes comes a complete lack of control, but you see something far different to your imagination.
His eyes are clouded with red, like he’s rolling his pupils so far back that you’re looking straight into his demon entity, like you can see the Prince of Hell in his true form. In some sick way, you don’t think he has looked more beautiful. He moans loudly but his voice is deeper, more threatening than usual, yet you find yourself reaching for his face, his allure drawing you in further than ever before.
His aura is dark and cloying, yet there's a slight change within him the second your fingertips brush his face. As if your touch can soothe the storm within him, the whirling black and crimson cloud that envelops him appears to diminish. He closes his eyes as he gives in to the calming effect of your touch.
Never before in his life has he met someone who could have such an effect on him. Although he is in control at this very moment, he is well aware that your power could render him defenceless with just a single gesture.
Guiding him, you pull his face down to you as you kiss him softly, breathing your life into him gently which he gladly accepts. As the kiss deepens, he shifts you gently, urging you to rest your head on his pillow, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you comply, sinking into the comfort of the mattress beneath you. He continues to explore your lips with a playful urgency, teasing you as you chase his elusive kisses.
“Heeseung-” you whine out but it barely makes audio waves as the fucking your throat received and the screams that ripped from your chest make it hard to talk.
Bringing his hand up to your throat, he applies gentle pressure, his touch like a soothing balm against the burning sensation. With each stroke of his fingers, the tension in your voice box begins to ease, the discomfort gradually fading away beneath his tender ministrations.
Heeseung meets your gaze with a fond intensity, sliding his cock out slowly as he shifts his body to create a space for you to lay your head on his chest. His arms wrap securely around you and he cradles you close, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat returning.
"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.
There's a part of you that yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?
"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.
You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”
As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.
"Say the word and she's gone, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.
Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?
Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.
“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.
“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.
“Y/N? Can you answer me?”
“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”
“Please answer me!”
Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.
But even as you feel yourself slipping under his spell, the echo of Jaeyun's pleas reverberates in your mind and with a jolt, you force yourself to pull away from the Prince's enchanting hold, breaking free from the spell he's woven around you.
“I don’t want this,” you push Heeseung away, your heart beating quickly as you realise what you have almost done, the distance from his touch giving you a sense of clarity, dispelling the fog of desire that clouded your judgement. “This is Soonyeol’s life, not mine. I won’t trade in one hell for another.”
Heeseung's eyes flash with anger for a fleeting moment, a storm brewing behind his gaze. But just as quickly as it comes, he reigns in his emotions, the tempest within him subsiding as he regains his composure.
“Fine. Don’t stay. But let me make these two weeks you have left count,” his signature smug expression returns as though you hadn’t seen the soul behind the demon a mere 10 minutes ago.
_____
Packing your bag, a heavy weight settles over you, dragging you down as you come to terms with the reality that this is the end. Two months of fear, lust, adoration, and anxiety swirl together in a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, each one vying for dominance as you prepare to bid farewell to it all.
With each item you place into your bag, it’s as if you’re emptying a foreign version of yourself. You know when you go home you’ll wear these same clothes and brush your hair with the same bristles, but it won’t be you anymore.
Maybe you should have taken Heeseung up on his offer.
Or perhaps this is the start of a new chapter for you. This new identity you feel surging inside your veins might help you navigate the big bad world a little easier.
Feeling a pair of arms encircle you from behind, you instinctively lean into Jaeyun's embrace, his presence offering a sense of solace amidst the uncertainty. His chin rests on your shoulder, his nose tickling the skin of your neck as he nuzzles closer, seeking comfort in your embrace.
"Please don't go, Y/N. I need you," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. The vulnerability in his words pierces through your own turmoil, reminding you of the depth of his feelings and the pain of letting go.
At that moment, as you stand entwined together, you both understand the weight of the connection that binds you. It's more than just the physical intimacy you've shared; it's a bond forged throughout your two months here. Everyone can see it, feel it - the undeniable truth that your relationship transcends mere physical attraction.
But you need to let him go.
"You don't need me, Baby doll," you murmur softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "You've got Soonyeol. She will look after you just like before."
As the words leave your lips, a sorrowful cloud settles over you, the reality of your impending departure sinking in. Despite the pain of leaving Jaeyun behind, you find solace in the knowledge that he won't be alone, that someone will be there to care for him in your absence.
But even as you try to reassure him, a part of you can't shake the feeling of loss that grips your heart. Though Soonyeol may provide comfort and support, you know that your absence will leave a void that can't be easily filled.
Sunghoon hugs you both from the side, his sudden presence a comfort. Even after you discovered that he was a demon, you knew deep down he wasn’t a terrible soul, he was just trapped in bad circumstances, forced to live a life he hated. There is evil within him, that much is true, but he wouldn’t use it haphazardly or indiscriminately.
“I’ll miss you too, baby girl. More than I think I’d like to admit,” he confesses, squeezing you and Jaeyun tight in his arms.
“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jongseong’s voice rings loud in your temporary room, causing you and your boys to break apart. Tenderly kissing each of them goodbye, they gracefully exit the room, leaving you alone with Jongseong, granting you both the privacy needed for your conversation.
"What's up? Gonna miss me?" you tease, playfully punching Jongseong's shoulder.
Jongseong chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nods. "More than you'll know...but I need to tell you something."
The playful banter fades away, replaced by a solemn atmosphere that settles between you. The air grows heavy with anticipation as you wait for Jongseong to speak, sensing that whatever he has to say is of great importance.
Taking a deep breath, Jongseong meets your gaze with a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, I need you to do something for me," he begins, his voice steady despite the weight of his request.
"What is it?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the seriousness in his tone.
Jongseong hesitates for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I need you to talk to Heeseung," he says, his expression earnest, "Ask him to untether Jaeyun from Soonyeol."
“What? Why?”
“Heeseung told you Jaeyun’s story, right? How he was supposed to be a guardian?” Jongseong's eyebrows raise expectantly, his gaze searching your face for understanding. Slowly, you nod, though confusion clouds your features. Sighing, Jongseong clasps his hands together as he continues, “I think…somehow…he is supposed to be your guide, your guardian angel.”
Jaeyun? Your guardian angel? A mighty laugh leaves your lips as you think he’s pulling some sick joke, but he is not laughing, not even a hint of mischief playing around on his expression. He is deadly serious here.
“Wait…what? But aren’t guardian angels assigned at like, birth or something?” you question, not wrapping your mind around the idea just yet.
Jongseong nods thoughtfully, his expression grave. "Yes, traditionally, that's how it works," he replies, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "But sometimes, fate has a way of... rearranging things. Guardian angels can also be soulmates in the realm of living.”
You lean back, trying to process this new information. "So, you’re now telling me that Jaeyun is my soulmate? So which is he?"
“Well, when he died it was sudden and tragic, no one saw it coming. It wasn’t planned the way God intended and that day you lost your soulmate. But you were meant to gain your angel that day…until Heeseung pulled him away.”
The weight of Jongseong's words hangs heavily in the air, sinking deep into your consciousness. A sense of disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the implications of his revelation. Jaeyun, your soulmate? The idea seems both surreal and profound, challenging everything you thought you knew about love and destiny.
There is no denying the connection you have but it all seems more outlandish than the library having a fire telephone to ring hell up and have a gab.
Jongseong feels your body overcoming with contemplation and questioning his words, so he jumps in. “All the signs are there, Princess. The connection you both have, how you can feel one another's emotions, Jaeyun has even been telling me he feels like there is a string pulling him to you.”
“A string?”
"Mhm, It is what binds a guardian angel to their human, and when you leave, it will shatter, just like your heart, and you will both be in such agony that it will swallow you whole," he says solemnly, his voice tinted with his personal experiences, "Trust me, I know it better than anyone."
Jongseong and Soonyeol…their string must have been broken once he was banished from being her guide. As you look at the sadness etched across his face, you know you never want to experience the pain they both must have felt.
“I don’t want to let him go, but he belongs here with Soonyeol. Heeseung told me how she needed him too,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you confess your inner anguish.
He feels your pain and inwardly cries for you. Gently, he uses two of his fingers to lift your chin, his eyes boring into yours as he pleads with you. “YOU need him, Sweetheart, just like he needs you. Please, grant me permission to speak to Heeseung on your behalf, I’ll sort something out with him, okay?”
His words resonate deep within you, stirring a sense of hope amidst the despair. Maybe Jongseong could convince Heeseung somehow. Perhaps your time spent with Heeseung over the past two weeks would count for something. After all, there had been moments of connection and understanding between you, moments that hinted at a deeper bond than he would probably like to admit.
But then doubt creeps in. Would Heeseung truly consider your feelings in his decision? Or would he give you the same ultimatum he had given before - stay and he would rid this house and the boys of Soonyeol, without a second thought?
You suppose you have to try, right?
“Talk to him, but only if Jaeyun wants to, this is his decision too.”
_____
As the sound of Soonyeol’s car driving up the gravel path reaches your ears, it feels like her tyres are rolling over your heart. Standing with your bags packed, you glance at the boys, each of them sitting in their dining room seats, ready to take on their doll personas once again. Each of their gazes says something different, but sorrow is evident.
“I’ll miss you guys,” you pout, unable to suppress the sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. Fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, you try to mask the ache of impending departure with a feeble attempt at a smile. But the weight of the moment looms, casting a shadow over the room as you prepare to say goodbye to the home and the family you've come to cherish.
“We’ll miss you too, baby girl,” Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours one last time, a silent reassurance amidst the impending farewell.
Jaeyun's expression is heavy with heartache, his eyes pleading with you to stay, but you can't bear to meet his gaze. You know that Jongseong's talk with Heeseung didn't go as hoped, and the disappointment hangs thick in the air, making your departure that much more difficult.
Suddenly, Jaeyun stands up, his movements swift as he storms over to you. Without a word, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your cheeks as he pours all his love and longing into the embrace. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his touch, savouring the taste of his lips against yours.
You hug him tightly, forcing the lump in your throat to retreat back to your stomach, cherishing this last moment.
“Jaeyun, get back in your seat, Soonyeol will be here any minute,” Heeseung warns, his voice pulling you both from your moment.
As Jaeyun's lips leave yours, the air between you crackles with unspoken emotions. His stare is intense, searching yours for any way he can stay with you. But you can only offer him a small, sad smile, knowing that your time together is slipping away with each passing second.
The thing that hurts the most is that Jaeyun has no clue that he is your soulmate or was supposed to be your guardian angel, he just thinks he’s losing your love when in fact, he’s losing part of his soul that you’ll take with you.
“I gave you my number, yeah? Give me a call anytime you can,” you mutter into his lips, finally stepping back to let him go back to the life he knows.
Within a second of Jaeyun taking his place, Soonyeol comes through the door, a gleeful smile plastered on her face as he looks straight at her dolls. It’s evident that she’s missed them but then again, who wouldn’t? You know as soon as you leave here you’re going to have a hole in your heart, pieces of it left with each one of them - even Heeseung.
Turning, she looks at you sceptically, noting the off atmosphere in the room but you don’t allow her a second to ponder it, interjecting as she goes to speak. “So, Soonyeol, how was your trip?”
“Oh, it was excellent! Just a few bits and bobs to tidy up.” She avoids divulging your curiosity. It’s clear her business was either extremely mundane to the point that there was nothing to tell you about, or that she is still harbouring a secret from you. To be honest, you think you’re done snooping and uncovering secrets for the rest of your life.
Ignorance might just be bliss.
She rummages her tote bag in search of a brown envelope, which she gladly hands you, “Here is everything, I counted it 5 times so it should be right,” you marvel at the wad of cash in your hand. Never in your life have you seen this much money in one go, it’s truly amazing. “How were my boys? I hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Like they were never here,” you lie, smiling softly which eases Soonyeol’s mind.
“Thank you so much, Y/N. I can tell you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can’t thank you enough!” she beams as she looks longingly into Heeseung’s eyes. There is a spark of adoration between them that makes you smile, although you do want to warn her that he would have literally killed her if you asked him to.
Again, ignorance is bliss.
Gathering your belongings, you give the dolls one last look over, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving them behind. With a heavy sigh, you turn to Soonyeol, offering her a small, grateful smile.
"It was a pleasure, Soonyeol. Thank you for trusting me enough to look after them and this house," you say, your voice overcome with sincerity.
Soonyeol returns your smile, her expression warm and genuine. "If I ever need anyone again, you will be first on my call list," she replies, her words carrying a sense of appreciation for your dedication.
You bid farewell to the house and the memories it holds as you trudge through the long hallways. You can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the experiences you've shared and the bonds you've formed. You’ll miss them all so dearly that it hurts you to even turn your back on them, but you know it’s for the best.
Carting your suitcase along the gravel, you catch sight of your car sitting patiently, a thin layer of dust coating its surface from the weeks it's spent waiting for your return. You had given up on cleaning it a while ago, unable to bear the reminders that your departure was imminent.
With a heavy heart, you click the boot open and shove your suitcase inside, the action punctuated by the force with which you slam it shut. Each motion is filled with a mix of sadness and frustration, emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface.
“Y/N, wait!” The familiar voice cuts through the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. Turning around, you're met with a sight that fills you with both hope and trepidation.
Your heart quickens in your chest as you spot Jaeyun darting towards you, his face a blend of determination and urgency. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between you in a few rapid strides, his fingers reaching out to ensnare yours.
In an instant, he envelops you in his embrace, his lips descending upon yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. Time appears to halt as the world fades into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a whirlwind of emotion.
The kiss is a whirlwind of emotion, a testament to the depth of your connection, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated.
As you pull away, a sense of urgency floods through you, prompting you to glance back at the house with a surge of panic. "Jaeyun, go back inside. Soonyeol-"
But before you can finish, Jaeyun interrupts with a bright smile, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, "I'm coming with you," he declares, punctuating his words with a gentle kiss on your nose.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, confusion swirling in your mind, "But I thought Heeseung said no?" you ask, searching Jaeyun's face for reassurance.
Jaeyun nods, holding you tight to him, “He said he was just waiting for Soonyeol, to ask if she would let me go and she said yes, can you believe it?”
No. No, you really can’t.
Then again, you know from your time with Heeseung and the box of cherished memories between him and Soonyeol that he really does do everything for her. If she wanted to keep Jaeyun then Heeseung would never dream of cutting the tie between the younger and his minder.
A wave of relief washes over you, mingled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, you realise that your happy ending isn't just a distant dream - it's within reach, waiting for you to seize it.
Glancing back at the house, you spot the others standing at the door, their figures framed by the warm glow of the sun. Soonyeol stands among them, her expression a mix of fondness and understanding, a knowing grin playing at the corners of her lips as she waves you off. She doesn’t look upset at the boys for blowing the secret but rather happy that one of them found serenity with someone the way she has with this house, with the dolls.
Quite honestly, you thought she would have blown a gasket but she isn’t the evil overlord you pictured her to be, even after Heeseung’s story of how she just wanted away from her toxic family you thought she must be hiding something to go to such lengths; perhaps hurt them or worse. But she really is just a girl, looking to live a peaceful life with a family she chooses, not one picked for her by God.
It all makes sense, calling upon Heeseung, because she lost her faith in the divine. Even heaven banished Jongseong for being dedicated to his job which tore them apart, she just did what she had to do.
A pang of sadness washes over you as you realise you're leaving behind the friends who have become like family to you. Each of them holds a piece of your heart, and the thought of saying goodbye, tugs at your emotions.
But as you turn to face Jaeyun, his hand clasped firmly in yours and that puppy-like smile plastered on his face, a sense of peace settles over you. With him by your side, you know you'll be okay.
Besides, who says you can’t pop back for a visit?
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fic#heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#tdh#aj writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
mermay idea
mers keep their faces covered as a way to indicate social status and familiarity. warriors have intricate masks, handcrafted when they win their first battle and the more detailed a mask is, the more accomplished the wearer is. they're rarely shed and are only taken off for their closest kin and mates
warrior bull shark mer!soap seeing human!ghost, seeing his skull mask and immediately knowing he's a high ranking warrior; one to be feared going off the numerous scars covering his body
an ideal and worthy mate, so long as he can prove his prowess
so he follows him as he's deployed on a mission near the ocean and is smitten when he sees how ruthless and capable he is; bathing himself in his enemies blood. he keeps his distance, not wanting to tempt fate but ghost spies the tip of his fin cutting through the water
and he's nothing if not an opportunist; kicking the bodies off the pier to the waiting jaws below
but soap? all he sees is the first step in a courting ritual
and he has to come up with something truly brilliant to match such a glorious offering
on ghost's part, it's been difficult getting people to understand the depths of his dependence on his mask. price thinks it's something to overcome, gaz and other soldiers just think it's an accessory to help with intimidation
the few partners he's tried to have thought he was someone to "fix"; nothing more than an object, a notch on their belt to prove how "good" of a partner they were to put in so much work to make him better. it always leaves him feeling violated, more so than if they'd just taken his mask off outright. one night stands were hardly worth it either; scratching a physical itch but falling so short of the intimacy and connection he craves that he feels worse off than he'd started
when he finally meets the mer that's been hunting him across the country, sees the bright red mask so artfully hewn and attached to his face?
it's like looking at a reflection of himself
he might have finally found the understanding he's been searching for
#yet another thing that got derailed#this was just supposed to be mer culture clashing with human culture then ghost had an identity crisis#as is his want#ghost only finding the connection and intimacy hes craving from someone society sees as a monster? good shit thats some good shit#we love internalised hatred on this blog#bc we also love ✨growth✨#soaps mask stand out bc of the colour#its bright red with darker red scales used for detail work#a perfect warning for such an aggressive mer species#he knows he’ll be seen from far away and hes skilled enough for it to be a death sentence instead of a give away#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#we’re a team. ghost team#mermay#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#john soap mactavish#soap cod#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#cod mw2
485 notes
·
View notes
Text
andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)
a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.
note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here
18+
warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance
a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!
Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.
The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list.
He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying.
Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist.
“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him.
Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up.
“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”
“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”
It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now.
“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”
“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”
“Alright. Got your phone handy?”
It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.
“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”
Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you.
Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone.
He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself.
But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.
So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much.
Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy.
Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine.
Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol.
So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is.
“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”
He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her.
“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”
She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall.
“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance.
She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that.
But god, does he think about you like that.
His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee.
Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—
He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand.
Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought.
But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.
“Found it okay?”
Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her.
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse.
There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom.
It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.
At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again.
But.
That’s all contingent.
No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same.
The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.
In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies.
Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him.
And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him.
The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.
Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back.
If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.
And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out.
Not again.
But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.
Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can.
Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is.
It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too.
He sends you a text—the third message in a row.
The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years.
I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
536 notes
·
View notes
Text
PICK A CARD: Your FS' Secret Kinks
❦ “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air." - Raymon Chandler, The Big Sleep
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.
p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
✦ Pile One ✦
Poor lil pooh pooh. This person struggles to “fill their cups up” so they get off on denying themselves pleasure. They secretly like the feeling of hitting whatever rock bottom looks like to them. Honestly, they want to be saved. They are wallowing at the bottom of a well, waiting for their savior to swoop in and throw them a rope.
In a more literal sense, they want a person to be their reason to live. Their reason to feel daylight on their skin again. Everyone and everything around them is unsatisfying and “fake”. They want something real to coax them out of their hell and entice them with all the thrilling things life has to offer.
However, they also like this dark and brooding side of themselves. They have a bit of a corruption kink.
They fantasize about a virginal angel coming down to save them, but they end up convincing the angel to sink down to their level.
They like exciting, spontaneous people who are willing to jump up and run out the door to do something fun at any moment, but think innocent fun. Like going to the movies to theater hop, and getting away without paying. Or, running around the Target parking lot in shopping carts and trying not to bang into cars. Maybe even steal a few street signs.
Innocent childhood fun that you’d see in early 90s movies. But add a sadistic twist to it that only they are aware of.
You would be the innocent virgin (doesn’t have to be true, it's their fantasy) who is unknowingly leading this beast (also not true, they are just extremely self-deprecating) to your pretty little happy places which they plan to desecrate.
They want to fuck you in your family home and make a mess of your childhood bed, making you scream so loud that you’re family starts to look at you differently. They want to take you to your favorite movie spots where you usually chill and hangout with your friends and turn it into a place where all you can think about is them covering your mouth in the back of the theater while you’re squirming in their lap, trying to escape out of their grip as they edge you to the new Marvel release.
They have a kink for turning all of your innocent, fun moments into their very own filthy fantasies.
Ps. Fisting came out of the blue so lube up!
Come To Me, My Senseless Angel
✦ Pile Two ✦
I don’t believe this is a future spouse, to be honest. This might be a situationship you need to move past. They seem emotionally immature, or at least this is a side of them that exclusively comes out when they’re aroused.
They can be quite abrasive and feel like they are constantly under attack so they’re incredibly defensive. They have a history of lashing out at their loved ones when they feel overwhelmed and get so blinded by their emotions that they disregard their affection for their partners and say really unforgettable, harmful words which permanently alters the connection for the worse.
They carry guilt from these actions and are in a constant state of regret. In this state, their sense of pleasure is a little twisted. They get turned on by causing a genuine issue in the relationship. They like the idea of pushing you to your limit where you’re this 🤏 close to your breaking point and at your absolute lowest. It’s when you reach your rock bottom and realize the need to move away from this person and you scream out, “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS.”
They like to grovel. You know that cycle where somebody fucks up and then they’re in the dog house buying flowers and being extra fluffy just to get in the victim’s good graces so they can do the same thing over again. So far, pile one and two’s respective partners like to feel like shit. They secretly like the moment where they completely fuck up a relationship and have to beg on their hands and knees to get their person back orrrrrr they get off on emotionally tearing someone down to the point where they get on their knees to bed for this person’s attention.
Either way, there's a lot of fucked psychological issues underneath this fantasy that I’m not unpacking here because it differs from person to person.
In its best light, this person glorifies struggle love. At its worst, this person is purposefully emotionally abusive with the intent to tear their partner down for their own sexual gratification.
They’re conscious enough to know their actions are toxic but don’t have the emotional maturity to work past their actions. They’re at the phase where they’re just aware and are like “I know I’m shitty but that’s just who I am. If they stick with me and the sex is good, it’s meant to be.”
I’m honestly getting twitter relationship hypotheticals with this one. Iykyk.
They’re also an edgelord. Less in an internet cockroach way and more in a witty- can be funny if done well- way, but they get pleasure from shocking people nonetheless. This energy can be directed toward you to piss you off and annoy you with the intent of getting in your pants later.
I’ve been guided to switch the conversation briefly: If this resonates and is someone you are dealing with. It is time to move on. This person gets gratification from hurting you and will not get past that high of tearing down a relationship and then having a messy recovery. They have their own issues to work through and cannot see how they are hurting you. There is no future with this person, they came into your life to teach you a lesson about your self-value. That cycle has run its course and it's time to move on.
To be honest, I’m not a fan of this person and don’t even want to list the explicit kinks that came out but I will just in case this message is for you but you’re not sure.
Random messages: Hot tub/pool sex, hair pulling, break down crying, interracial, milk, broken condom, “i fucking hate you”, “whore”, mirror, drunk sex, complaining, smack a bitch, twitter
P.S. You’re too sexy for the bullshit! There is bigger and greater out there, you just need to believe that for yourself!
This person will not get a mood board out of me.
✦ Pile Three ✦
Okay, so this person has some deep religious guilt. This is a male presenting person. I am being clear with their sex because it plays a role in this reading. They have some majorly repressed feminine energy. They may even be attracted to the same sex.
This is a fs reading, so they are likely bi, pansexual, or trans. Either way, their family is close-minded and is not supportive of them. They were forced to leave home so they could finally live their truth. They have lived their entire life fitting somebody else’s narrative. They were the hypermasculine bro type to “cover up” their femininity.
So, they have a kink for hyperfeminity. It’s almost to the point where they obsess over the caricature of girlhood. I see lots of pink, high heels, full-glam, all-day mall shopping, pinup curls, flashy jewelry, sleepovers, day spas, that scene in Scott Pilgrim where that girl is like “SHE’S PROBABLY LIKE 25!”, and everything else that gets associated with “girlhood” nowadays.
They fantasize about you in your receptive energy, being waited on and cared for hand and foot. They like to observe the way you move. Everything about you and your feminine aura is incredibly alluring to them. The way with each breath your breasts fall, the way your hips swat with each step, the cute way you match your accessories with your outfits. They notice everything about you.
You know those paintings of wealthy women lying on their sides and being fed grapes? That. They’re not in the serving role, they're the painter. Their kink is capturing you in those everyday moments where the world seems to be waiting on you like you’re the collective’s queen.
They see femininity in a higher light than the general population. They see women as automatically deserving of this type of care, they also want this care.
They have a secret hard-on for pregnant women and women with swollen breasts. They have a lactation kink. They fantasize about cumming in you over and over again. They see you as a Goddess, so they want to see you masturbate at church on an altar, like you're waiting to be worshipped.
A lot of their fantasies, they’re not even included in. It’s just you looking God-like and being worshipped by the world around you. This person may hate when you wear clothes. They act like the fabric is committing a sin by covering your body. They just want to capture your essence. Like an admirer and a student.
P.S. Dick game goes CRAZY. They watch a lot of women-focused porn to study what gets a woman off. Like Maddie in Euphoria, here is there to study.
Pretty In Pink
✦ Pile Four ✦
WE GOT A PLEASURE DOM IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL STAY CALM. As my mama would say, they love your dirty drawls!
You could do no wrong in this person’s eyes. They’re the golden retriever type. Head empty, leading with heart and IN LOVE>>>>>
You are the pot of gold and the end of the rainbow they’re chasing. They appreciate a good fling but they’ve never felt this before. The emotions you stir in them are unprecedented, this is puppy, sandbox love that most people lose touch with after life jades them.
This is raw love at its most unprocessed. I taste honey.
They have a kink for the power you have over them. It’s like you have a carrot on a stick and they’re the pig being led to a love den they can’t escape. And they’ll happily be the squealing pig in every lifetime they get with you. This is a soul yearning.
You will know this person because they will proactively pursue you and they will have no doubts in their mind about it. They are really attracted to your physical form, your curves. Even if you’re on the slimmer side, they like your structure and the dips in your spine. They’ll stare at you when you’re talking and zone out, thinking about how attractive they find you.
They’re not used to having to try to get someone to sleep with them. They have to put effort towards you and they like that. This person is downright thirsty and craves intimacy with you.
Their fantasies aren’t even dirty, they’re passionate. They want to put you in a mating press, with your knees pressed all the way up beside your ears. They want to penetrate (could be with a toy) deeply and touch that gooey part of you that makes you see stars.
They want to see an imprint of them in your lower belly. Any position where you’re in their arms is a go for them because they like having you. They want every moment to be just you and them away from the world. So very sweet and intimate. They also love marking you, expect lots of hickeys.
Ignore them from time to time too (healthily, these conditions should be discussed beforehand)! They see you as the ultimate prize, so if you delay their satisfaction, they’ll feel like they’re chasing again, which gets them off. They like to feel like they’re convincing you to sleep with them. You both are consenting, but they like the idea of you having better things to do and they’re trying to convince you to stay and party with them.
They are very action-oriented and love movement. Anything that involves an adventure together, they are down for.
PS. Surprise them with a bubble bath together, they’ll love that. And tease them while pulling their hair a bit!
Ode To My Darling Sun
510 notes
·
View notes
Text
[3.5k] after his iconic first race win in formula one, lando gets to celebrate with his three favourite people. or, the charlandax smut i accidentally promised after a lando win with a lestappen podium. (smut)
note: this is fucking filthy and i kinda feel like i need to go to a confession booth. okay bye, nobody perceive me after this. she’s also unedited so beware (I’m too lazy to reread and edit rn)
.
Lando Norris felt like he was on top of the fucking world but maybe that was just how it felt from the top step of the podium.
It hadn’t really hit him yet, despite his ears ringing from his own screams and the cheers from the crowd and the fans and his own team. It didn’t feel real until the national anthem began playing through the speakers, until he heard his team singing along, until he realised this was his reality.
He was a Grand Prix winner.
Finally.
Surreal was the only word to describe how he felt. After years of second-place and third-place podium finishes, of people telling him his time would come, of having so many close calls, he did it. He fucking did it. And he didn’t just skim a win, it was fully fucking his as he soared past the chequered flag.
And for once, Lando basked in the knowledge that all eyes were on him. It didn’t give him that prickling, itching feeling under his skin. It didn’t make him want to hunch his shoulders up to his ears. It didn’t make the little voice in the back of his head send him spiralling over every little thing he could be doing wrong.
He had just won the Miami Grand Prix and everyone was staring at him and he fucking loved it.
But it meant more than just a win to Lando, it meant so much more than a trophy to add to his collection back home. It was about the years spent achieving this dream. It was about the effort and the support he had from the team to reach this point. It was about sharing this moment and standing on the podium with two people who meant the fucking world to him with the third watching all three of them from down below.
It meant the fucking world to Lando.
It was a blur of happiness and excitement and adrenaline as he stood on that top step. It felt like he was in a movie when the trophy was handed to him, the number one staring back at him like it was reminding him he had done it. It felt like a fucking dream when the champagne celebration started, his hand barely wrapped around the neck of the bottle when Charles and Max drenched and drowning him in champagne.
It was completely fucking unbelievable this was finally his reality.
Time was a blur of big smiles, loud cheers and so many people congratulating him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, it made something in his chest burst with pride as he felt his team slap him on the back as he walked through the garage. He felt like his life was complete when you threw your arms around him, tugging him close until your bodies felt like one.
“M’so cold,” he murmured as he wound his arms around you, holding you closer as he buries his face into your neck for some privacy, despite the countless cameras pointing at him.
“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered back, just loud enough for him to hear because he was the only one who mattered in that moment. “This is the first of many.”
He sniffled, feeling his throat close up a bit but he just squeezed you tighter when the words didn’t come out as smoothly as he wanted.
However, you were pulled away from him seconds later as he was directed towards the camera. With media duties and team debriefs and many more commitments, he didn’t have time to stop and celebrate with the people he wanted. He had to perform for the cameras, for the fans, for the people watching before he could.
And honestly, he couldn't complain. There were worse problems to have.
His brain was running a million miles an hour, so many thoughts and feelings and emotions to try and comprehend that he barely noticed the other person in his driver’s room until the door shut behind him and he felt a pair of lips on his.
“I am so proud of you, mon champion,” Charles murmured against his lips, the kiss short-lived due to the huge smile on his face. He pulled back enough to look at Lando properly, his hands holding the Brit’s face. “So, so proud of you.”
Lando felt his cheeks burn. “M’glad you and Max were up there with me,” he admitted, that funny feeling in his chest returning before he glanced around the room noticing that Charles was the only one in his driver room. “Where are the others?” Pause. “How did you even sneak in here?”
“I have my ways,” Charles answered vaguely, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And I’m here to help you hurry up. They are waiting in the car.”
Lando snorted. “And they sent you to hurry me up?”
“I may have come third, mon amour, but I’m still fast.”
Despite his words, it took a few more minutes of Charles pressing kisses all over his face and mumbling a load of French that Lando didn’t understand before he was finally able to grab his belongings and make it out of the McLaren motorhome.
His whole body was buzzing with energy, far too hyped up to even care about the way his face burned when he climbed into the backseat of Charles’ race weekend car, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
This.
This was what he had been waiting for.
This moment to be with the people who loved more than his heart knew he was capable of. A moment to be with the people who believed in him no matter what, even when the rest of the world doubted him.
And if Lando was being so completely honest, he was so lost in the buzz of his win that he didn’t think anything about your hand resting on his upper thigh. He was still lost in the race a few hours ago, still lost in the feeling of crossing the line and hearing Will’s voice over the radio confirming he secured his first Formula One Grand Prix win.
So lost in that moment that he barely had a chance to drop his backpack on the floor of Max’s huge hotel suite before the Dutchman was reaching for him. With the privacy of the hotel room door locked from the rest of the world, Max didn’t hold back as he raked his hand through Lando’s curls. His fingers twisted in his hair, tugging sharply as his teeth nipped the Brit’s bottom lip.
Lando couldn’t help himself when he let out a whine.
“Fuck,” Max groaned, tugging on his hair again as he watched Lando’s eyes flutter shut. “Look at our race winner, hm? So pretty, schat.”
Lando’s lips parted but words were lost on him. Instead, his eyes darted where you saddled up against Max’s side, head resting on his shoulder as you looked at Lando with a massive grin.
“I think you broke him,” you teased, a faux pout on your lips. “Guess that throws all our plans out the window.”
Lando blinked before quickly shaking his head. “I—no, wait, what plans?”
Max grinned. “Your reward, baby. Didn’t think we were gonna celebrate your big day, huh?”
“I—” Lando paused, feeling something deep in his stomach twist in desire. “I just…I don’t know. I thought we were gonna go out…or something.”
“We could,” Charles spoke up as he slipped in behind Lando, his hands on the younger boy’s waist. “If that’s what you want. We can go out and celebrate with everyone else.”
Lando swallowed. “Or?”
“Or,” you repeated, your eyes lingering on his kiss-swollen lips. “You let us treat you like a proper race winner.”
“And what does that treatment include?” Lando asked, because that was just who he was. That little brat in him that wanted to know his options, that wanted to know exactly how he was being rewarded, who wanted to know exactly what was getting done to him. The little brat in him that was mouthy and sassy and usually got put in his place—that wanted to be put in his place.
And Max knew that. He knew that if he reached down, Lando was probably half-hard already. He knew that no matter what he said, Land would be down for it. He could see the glint in the Brit’s eyes, that realisation of what he could have without realising it.
“Anything you want,” Max murmured, his thumb lightly tracing along Lando’s bottom lip. “You’re the winner, Lando. Our winner.”
…
Anything you want.
That was his limit—completely fucking endless. He had all the control in the palm of his hands to do whatever he pleased, whatever he desired, whatever he fucking wanted.
But that wasn’t what Lando wanted. He didn’t want to be in charge. He didn’t want to be the person making the calls and decisions. That wasn’t his role in the bedroom and he never really wanted to be. He liked being the one who got to lay back, the one that people tried to tame and dominate only to realise he didn’t listen as easily as people wanted.
He liked being the one that people worked to break.
So, that was exactly what Max gave to him and Lando only slightly regretted his decision as he slumped back against the Dutchman, grinding his ass back against the older boy’s straining cock as he threw his head back against Max’s shoulder.
“Please, please, please,” Lando whined, trying to buck his hips forwards but Max kept his body in place, just where he wanted him. “S’too much.”
“I know, schatje,” Max mused, pressing a lingering kiss at the base of his neck just to hear Lando let out a small moan at the contact. “But look how pretty they look for you, all for you. You don’t want them to stop, do you?”
But Lando couldn’t bring himself to respond.
“None of that,” Max muttered, squeezing Lando’s sides to get the boy to listen. “Thought my winner was gonna be good for me, huh? Look at them, Lando. Look how good they are being for you. Look at how much they are enjoying this.”
The boy only managed to let out a whimper as he fluttered his eyes open, his chin tucking into his chest as he looked down at the sight Max was demanding of him.
And, fuck, it made his knees buckle.
The two of you were absolute fucking messes. It felt like something out of a porno, one that would have Lando panting and whining and fantasising about because never once did he think it was realistic. And yet, here you and Charles were, looking like something out of his deepest desires.
He couldn’t focus on one of you, it would have been a crime to not stare and ogle you both. The way you both looked utterly perfect on your knees in front of him, glossy eyes and flushed cheeks and looking so fucking blissed out as you both worshipped his cock—like you were fulfilling a purpose, like this was what the two of you were made for.
And it was messy as fuck, something that maybe would have been gross to everyone else in the world, but Lando thought it was so fucking hot. The evidence of his previous orgasms splattered across you both, covering your lips and chins and naked chests. The way your lips wrapped around the head of his cock as Charles licked down the underside of his cock until he nosed Lando's balls. The way Charles had one hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pumping and stroking himself as you squeezed and played with your tits like it would give you some relief.
But it wasn’t about your pleasure or Charles’ or Max’s.
It was all about Lando.
“Such good sluts on their knees for you,” Max muttered, lips brushing against his ear as his warm breath tickled against Lando’s skin. “Usually that’s you, schat. Getting on your knees for me, doing whatever I tell you.”
“Fuck,” he let out in a breathless whimper, turning his head to try and nuzzle his face into Max’s neck.
“Do you like this, Lando? Like seeing them be such whores for your cock? So desperate and needy?” Max continued, his hands tightening on the younger boy’s waist as he looked down at you and Charles.
You let out a whine at his words, your thighs clenched together and your eyes fluttering shut as you traced your tongue along the slit of his cock. Your moans vibrated around his cock, leaving the boy a puddle underneath your touch as Charles placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his balls.
“Bet they would stay there all night if you wanted them to,” Max mused as his eyes caught teary green eyes staring up at him, desperation shining in the pretty colour of them. “Bet Charles would love to take your cock down his pretty throat, he always does it so well for me. Hm, amour? Think you could take our pretty winner’s cock like a good boy?”
The sound Charles let out was pitiful and straight out of a fucking porno.
“Max,” Lando breathed out, his hands reaching back to try and grab onto the Dutchman. “Please, I-I need…”
“What do you need?” Max questioned, squeezing his sides. “Need more than their mouths, baby? Or maybe you need more than that.”
Lando felt his whole face burn as he let out a shameless moan when one of Max’s hands began wandering, when his fingers brushed along his skin before squeezing the fat of his ass.
“The champagne wasn’t enough, hm? Maybe we need to fill you up,” Max suggested, like it was something as casual as talking about dinner options. “Bet you’d feel so nice and tight around me, baby. Maybe let Charles fill your pretty throat instead.”
“Please,” Lando whined.
“Yeah, you want that?” He could feel Max’s smile against his skin. “Let our pretty girl bounce on your cock whilst we fill you up? She would look so pretty sitting on top of you.”
Lando nodded his head vigorously, his nails slightly digging into Max’s skin. “I need it, Max, need it so bad.”
Max’s teeth scraped along the side of his neck. “Beg for it.”
So he did.
He begged for it until his voice was hoarse and his legs were shaking and his babbles were practically incoherent. He begged until he felt Max’s lips on his skin, joined by Charles and yours moments later as you three kissed and worshipped every inch of his body. He begged until his face was burning red, his blush spreading down his neck and chest as you praised him—your race winner—until he couldn’t take it any more.
He begged for it as you held his face, prepping kisses all over his face whilst Max worked him open.
He begged for it as Charles marked along his neck and chest to help him relax as Max slowly slid inside him, stretching him open until he was a whimpering mess.
He begged for it as you slowly sunk down on his cock, your cunt already soaking and slick with your own arousal as he buried himself inside you.
He begged for it until his hands were gripping Charles’ thighs, nails digging into his skin as he urged his cock further down his throat until he felt fucking full.
“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, rocking your hips back and forth as you let your hands skim along his skin. Your fingers traced along the planes of his abs, watching them softly clench under your touch before you traced along his sides. You kept your hands moving, feeling the need to touch every fucking inch of him as he preened and squirmed under your touch. “You look so perfect like this.”
Lando let out a muffled moan around Charles’ cock.
“Letting us fill you up, make you feel so good,” you continued, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. “This is what our race winner deserves. So pretty and fast today, baby, it’s so hot.”
One of his hands let go of Charles, blindly reaching out towards you until you caught the hint to intertwine your fingers together. You raised it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto the back of his hand and something about the soft gesture whilst his body was being fucked into an inch of his life made the boy spiral.
He couldn’t do anything but just take it, let the overwhelming pleasure wash over him until his whole body felt like it was on fire. His nerve endings felt like they had been turned up beyond the dial, like every touch was more thrilling than he could ever imagine. The words of praise was a muffled mess around him, three voices all mixed together as he felt hands all over his body. He felt safe, he felt full, he felt complete.
It was a blur of too much pleasure and excitement and gratification when he finally came, white spots dotting his vision as he felt himself completely spill inside you whilst your cunt clenched around him, as Max’s cock hit the perfect spot deep inside him with every thrust. He was so lost in his own orgasm, in his own moans and whines and noises to fully realise the domino effect he started.
To really appreciate the sight of you coming on his cock, bouncing up and down on his cock whilst your tits moved with each thrust. To really enjoy the sensation of Max coming deep inside him, squeezing him so hard that he was sure his skin would bruise the next day. To watch the way Charles stroked himself a few more times before spilling over his chest, just for you to lean down and lick up the mess until you leaned down to kiss him senseless.
To be completely honest, he was waiting to wake up and realise this whole day was a dream.
But he blinked. And blinked once more for good measure. And your smiling face was still there to reassure him this was real, that everything about today was real.
“Hey,” he whispered, voice a little rough and hoarse.
“Hey, baby,” you grinned back at him as you raised your hand to gently cup his face, your thumb wiping away a few stray tears that slipped out. “How are you feeling, Mr Race Winner?”
And despite the exhaustion settled deep in his bones, Lando beamed at you. “Feel like I’m the king of this fucking world.”
You giggled. “Then our job here is complete.”
Lando huffed out a laugh, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to fight the urge to curl up and sleep for the next week straight.
“Don’t tell me that’s you done for the night,” Max’s voice spoke from somewhere else in the room, somewhere away from the bed but Lando couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. “There’s a whole city wanting to celebrate with you tonight.”
“Ugh, being a race winner is so much work,” Lando whined playfully, reaching for you to pull you closer before you could pull away from him. “Let’s just stay here forever.”
“All a part of the title, mon amour,” Charles teased as he settled down beside the younger boy on the bed. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Lando’s forehead. “I heard the other drivers making bets on who could buy you the most shots.”
Lando let out a breath. “Fuck, they are gonna try to kill me.”
“We wouldn’t let that happen,” you assured him, but he could hear the smile in your voice. “I’m sure Max would join you.”
“Thanks, schat,” Max grumbled as he wandered back into the room, a wet washcloth in his hand. “We have a few hours before we are meant to meet everyone anyways. Have a nap, you can shower when you wake up.”
Lando blinked his eyes open, a cheeky smile on his face. “Alone?”
Max rolled his eyes. “It’s never enough for you.”
“I’m a high maintenance guy,” Lando replied.
“We know,” you murmured with a snort, only to gasp when he pinched your side. “Hey!”
“You can’t yell at me, I’m a race winner,” he shot back at you, grinning wider when you rolled your eyes.
“Yes, that is exactly how this works,” Charles snorted as he slumped down on the pillow beside Lando, reaching for the Brit to curl up beside him. “That and club blowjobs.”
“It was one time,” Max grumbled. “And it wasn’t even my idea!”
“I didn’t regret it for a second,” you smiled shamelessly at the Dutchman before raising your hand, trying to pull him down onto the bed with the three of you. “C’mon, we can clean up properly later. I wanna cuddle.”
“So needy.”
“In the wise words of race winner Lando Norris, I’m a high maintenance guy.”
“Hell yeah, baby,” Lando murmured, his cheek pressed into the pillow with a sleepy smile on his face. “Someone stitch that onto a pillow.”
“Please go to sleep before I gag you both.”
“They would probably like that, mon amour.”
“You too, Charles.”
“Always so bossy, Verstappen.”
.
#charlandax#charles leclerc#lando norris#max verstappen#formula one#f1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#lando norris smut#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fic#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen smut#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#formula one smut
896 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!
╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )
he just can't get enough of your pussy !
› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)
╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.
this is a dangerous game when he's involved
as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen
and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?
he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.
so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.
and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.
it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.
and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.
you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.
"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"
any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.
he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.
"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,
"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.
your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.
"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.
always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.
"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.
"but you love it."
you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.
he's the type of man who's best in small doses
the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent
but there's ways around that
"sampo, do you ever shut up?"
ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.
"no, but for a small standalone price-"
if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)
"sampo."
the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.
"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."
you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.
"either shut up or i'll make you."
you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.
approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.
the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.
he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.
every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".
his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).
your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.
he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.
"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.
you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.
"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.
"hm... that's what i thought."
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.
blade's mean when he eats you out
he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned
"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.
how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.
"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.
"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.
"attagirl."
blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.
there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.
"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.
he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.
and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.
"one more?"
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.
what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm
because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around
but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too
"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.
"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.
"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.
"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.
"does that feel good?"
"y-yeah, so good, baby."
he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.
his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.
"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.
"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.
he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.
"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.
you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.
"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.
"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.
"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.
your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it
like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL
"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.
he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.
"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.
"hi, pretty."
"hi."
"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.
"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.
"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.
"quit teasing me."
"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"
"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.
"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.
"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.
"gladly."
there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.
you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.
"you taste divine, my love."
and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.
the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.
as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.
everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.
the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.
"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"
luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.
"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"
and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.
his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.
"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.
you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.
and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.
"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"
𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist
#୨୧ gia.txt :: jing yuan#୨୧ gia.txt :: sampo#୨୧ gia.txt :: blade#୨୧ gia.txt :: gepard#୨୧ gia.txt :: luocha#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan smut#jing yuan x reader smut#hsr sampo x reader#sampo x reader#sampo x reader smut#sampo koski x reader#sampo koski smut#hsr blade x reader#hsr blade smut#blade x reader#blade smut#blade x reader smut#hsr gepard x reader#gepard x reader#gepard smut#gepard x reader smut#gepard landau x reader#gepard landau x reader smut#luocha x reader#luocha smut#luocha x reader smut
532 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fans and Creators of Webtoons!
I want to talk about Line Webtoon’s new “Super Like” program and why it sucks for literally everyone.
What is a “Super Like?”
According to their website, super likes are a new way for webtoon creators to monetize their work. Readers can pay real money to buy a super like for their favorite webtoon, and the creator gets a fraction of that money.
Wait, a fraction? Not all of it?
Yep! Webtoon skims quite a chunk off the top.
30% goes to Webtoon, and then another 30% of that amount goes to the payment processor.
So what do creators get? 49 cents for every dollar their fans try to give them. Literally half.
That’s pretty ludicrous, right?
Interestingly enough, they announced that they had a “tipping system” in the works in the same email they ended the CANVAS creator rewards program (and many comic creators livelihoods)
They said tipping system in their social media posts too
Obviously this tipping system is referring to super likes right? They say they’re going to do a tipping system, and then this rolls out.
But “tips” are not something that buisinesses can just take a cut of, at least not in the United States. According to the Department of Labor, it is illegal for any amount of tips from customers to go to an employer.
Webtoon is trying to walk back this language, of course. You won’t find the word “tip” anywhere on their website page explaining how it works. But those old social media posts are still up.
This is all pretty scummy
But wait, it gets worse!
They removed the Patreon button at the end of episodes and replaced it with this:
Yep! That’s right. Webtoon really said “what if we replace the tipping system that already existed with a shittier one where you only get half of it 🥺”
Unsurprisingly, they faced a ton of backlash.
Webtoon was quick to point out that the Patreon button was only removed from the end of episodes and there was still a button on the creator’s homepage. But of course, the end of episodes is where that button matters the most.
Creators know this. Webtoon knows this.
Eventually, after days of continued complaints from creators on social media, Webtoon went on damage control mode and announced that they would be putting the Patreon button back at the end of episodes—
As of right now (May 11th, 2024) the Patreon button is still not back.
***
So…Super likes are “super totally not a tip.”
But if they aren’t tips…what are they?
Well there’s a bit more to the story of what a super like actually is. After announceing the program, the app updated to reveal a new ranking category on the front page
When you click on this ranking tab, you can see that there is now both a daily and weekly ranking
If you’re a CANVAS creator, you know how difficult and seemingly random it can be to get your comic on the front page of the app—so my immediate worry was that comic creators were going to buy superlikes on their own series to get in this ranking and…
Yep, that’s already happening.
But why would webtoon even allow creators to buy superlikes for themselves? How does that make sense?
Surely goading desperate creators into buying superlikes can’t be that lucrative, can it?
No. I think there’s another, possibly even worse reason.
Fandom wars
If you’re into music, you probably are aware of how common it is for super fans to make concerted efforts to get their favorite musician to the top of the billboard charts. They coordinate over social media, stream music on loop as soon as an album drops to inflate the numbers, buy albums in bulk to increase sales, all so that they can say their fav is number one. It’s especially common among K-pop fans and swifties
This phenomena is well documented
Fans of Webtoons can be just as ravenous as K-pop, so I think Webtoon is trying to capitalize on this. They want to encourage fandom war and make money. That’s why they have this ranking. Not only can super fans brag about their favorite series topping the charts but they can wear their super like proudly on their reader profile that webtoon will be rolling out soon.
They’re just testing this super like stuff out on CANVAS right now, but once this starts up with originals? Oh. It will be a very profitable, very terrible mess.
(Oh and I mean profitable for webtoon, not creators, in case that wasn’t clear.)
***
Anyway, if you’re a creator, do yourself a favor and don’t enable super likes.
If you’re a fan of a webcomic, just donate to that creators patreon or Ko-Fi to show your support. Don’t give a red cent to webtoon because they did not do any of the work to make the series you love, alright?
Also check out my webtoon haha.
#webtoon#super likes#webtoon super likes#webtoon super like#super like program#monetization#comics#comic#webcomic#Patreon#webtoon canvas#webtoon creator rewards#webtoon fans#webtoon fan#webtoon creator#artists on tumblr#weird comics
554 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Soul, It Did Decide!
Part 2 of this!
Here it is, as promised. I thought it was too long but I couldn't decide what to take out, so have it all. It was supposed to be done and out for Friday but when the Northern Lights come knocking you gotta go find them😅 Enjoy! Title of P1 is from my favourite Little Simz song 'Angel', this one from 'Worth It.' by Raye!
Adjusting to life with a child was as daunting as expected; having a whole human being depend on you was quite possibly the most terrifying thing in the world. Yet, when wide brown eyes stared up at you in the dead of the night and ten little fingers gripped just one of yours, it felt like you were made for it.
Newborns were possibly the laziest species of all, and you loved it. The first few weeks of her life, all Anaís did was eat, sleep, eat, and sleep some more. That left plenty of time for you to marvel at every little thing about her; the few wisps of dark brown hair she had, her perfect button nose, her tiny feet that were ever-moving, and her hands with the most adorable nails you'd ever seen, if that was possible. Not to mention the smell of her, which you thought was a myth, how women were obsessed with the smell of their baby, but you weren't embarrassed to admit it was entirely true. Alexia loved to tease you about it, but when one time in the middle of the night you'd caught her doing the exact same thing as you, she reluctantly gave in and joined you in your opinion.
The beauty of parenthood unfolds in countless ways, and the wonder of seeing the world anew through your child's eyes is unparalleled. You'd come to learn that even the simplest things made to be the most incredible memories. But the thing that got you the most though, was not only the prospect of all the memories your family were going to make, but what life Anaís might live.
Would she follow in Alexia's footsteps and become a football legend? Would she follow your path instead, a more educated and business led one? Would she become a doctor and save hundreds of lives, would she become the first astronaut to land on Mars, or would she spend her life living at home with you and Alexia? You didn't care what she would grow to be, your first rule of parenting was to never hold expectations against them beyond the normal ones of being kind and whatnot. The pride you felt towards her at such a young age was so extreme and overwhelming, you couldn't begin to process what it would be like when she came into her own as a person. Truly, there was no greater joy than being a parent, that much was true, and you hadn't even experienced any of the larger milestones yet.
There were moments over your life, before Anaís, where you worried about how much you'd be able to handle a child. Sometimes you wondered if you even wanted kids, but the thought of not having Anaís in your world now was... god, you couldn't even imagine it.
Even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs, refusing to sleep.
"Anaís, mi chiqui, por favor. Go to sleep." You begged, slowly stepping around the room whilst rocking a crying Anaís in your arms.
You'd tried it all by now, and nothing was working. Diaper change, feeding her, soothing her, cuddling her, everything you could think of. But nothing was good enough. There were tears brimming in your own eyes, thoroughly exhausted due to the restless night Anaís had had so far, and it seemed the end wasn't in sight yet.
"Please, please, little one." You sniffled, your emotions finally consuming you as one of your tears fell to merge with Anaís' own on her cheeks. "I don't get what's wrong!"
For all you knew, Alexia was in the bedroom a few feet down the hallway, soundly asleep. Blissfully unaware of the difficulties you faced in the next room over. Selfishly, the thought only made matters worse. A strangled shout escaped you before you could stop it, stressing both yourself and Anaís out inexplicably more.
By the grace of something your shattered mind couldn't name, that last call out from you had awoken the Spaniard, and she soon came stumbling into the nursery, instantly sobered from her sleep upon the sight she walked into.
Your face was red from stress and sobs, Anaís' tiny little cheeks matching yours as her face scrunched uncomfortably with each scrike she let out, and you only cried more at the sight of Alexia.
"Mi amor, what's happening?" Alexia rushes over to you, cautiously taking Anaís from your arms as her eyes flick worryingly between you both.
"She won't stop crying!" You sob, hiding your face into her neck. "I've d-done every- everything, she just won't stop."
"Okay, okay. Hey, what time is it, amor? Can you check for me please? Just that one thing, my love, that's all." Alexia asks, hoping there was a remaining part of your overwhelmed mind that was still lucid.
"Um, it's- it's almost four, I think." You choke out, slumping into the rocking chair and crying into your hands.
"Thank you, amor, that's all I needed. Stay right here, can you hold our mija for just a minute whilst I get something? I will be right back, I will be really quick."
You nod, and Alexia presses a firm kiss to your forehead before placing Anaís back in your arms. The 8-week-old had almost fully exerted herself now, no more loud cries coming from her, only a few upset whines that broke your heart nonetheless. Wiping your face on the shoulder of your shirt, you cradle Anaís closely and rest your forehead against hers gently.
"I'm sorry I can't figure it out. I'm so sorry." You mutter exasperatedly, a few tears falling onto the baby's head.
Thankfully, Alexia races back into the room, holding something that would hopefully be the solution to Anaís' problem. The realisation of what was most likely wrong with her struck your heart.
"She is probably feeling unwell from her injections, amor. Let's give her some of this, it should make her feel better."
In her hand was a bottle of medicine for young infants, made for specific times like this. The previous day, Anaís had had her 8 week jabs and the doctor had suggested that she may feel a little under the weather afterwards, something that was completely normal, and the medicine Alexia held more often than not worked in the same way paracetamol did for people with cold symptoms. Anaís didn't seem to be running a fever, much to your relief, but she was obviously in some discomfort and it killed you that you hadn't thought of it.
"Yes, yes, give it her." You respond shakily, standing up as Alexia measures the right amount into the small syringe.
It takes a little while to give Anaís the small dose of medicine, having to give tiny amounts in quick intervals since she was so young, but a few minutes later she'd had it all with little fight. She's still very unsettled, but her tears have fully stopped now, instead letting out a few grunts as she wriggles restlessly.
"Hopefully she will feel better in a few minutes. Do you need anything, amor? Anything at all?" Alexia offers quietly, her hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as she wipes your tears away so delicately.
"No, I'm okay. You can go back to sleep now if you want." You tell her, not meeting her eyes.
"Hey, I'm staying with you and chiqui. Let me know how you are, sí?" Her eyebrows furrowed anxiously as her eyes assessed your face.
"I'm fine." You sniffle, but she instantly shakes her head.
"Mi amor, you seem so tired and stressed. Let's get back to bed and relax. I can text our friends that we won't make it to lunch later too?"
"No, we can still go. It'll be fine." You give her a tight-lipped smile, hoping it'll convince her, but your eyes are bloodshot and weighed down by some dark bags, and she sees straight through you.
"They know that parenting is never perfect or straight-forward, amor, we can just reschedule. You need the rest and so does Anaís, okay? I will text them. Come on, back to bed." She wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you out of Anaís' room.
Once you're back in your shared bedroom, you sit back against the headboard and Alexia sits on the edge of the bed next to your legs. One of her hands rests on your bare knee as you wore a t-shirt and shorts in the hot summer weather, and she gazed at you with no love lost.
"She's tired herself out I think. With all the crying." You stated, unsure what to say when she's looking at you like she was. Alexia simply smiled and nodded, watching as Anaís' eyes finally fluttered shut.
"Look. She's okay now. We're all okay." She says, shifting a little closer and pressing a kiss to you cheek. "I love you. You are the best Mama that Anaís could have."
You don't reply, overridden by worries and doubts and tiredness to even consider the statement she'd made, so you just shrug and feel Anaís properly settle down, now asleep.
"Could you put her in her cot, please?"
Alexia nods immediately and stands before picking up Anaís, careful not to wake her, and murmurs a few words in Spanish to her followed by a feather-light kiss to her cheek, then she places her in the cot beside the bed. You watched the scene in front of you, it never failing to put a smile on your face even in the worse moments of parenting.
As Alexia makes her way back into bed, you shift to lay on your side facing Anaís, a position you lay in almost every night as it's reasurring to be able to see her so close to you whilst she sleeps due to the netting on the side of the crib. Alexia shifts up behind you and leans up on one elbow to press a kiss to your cheek, before hugging you tightly back into her.
"I'm proud of you. I love watching you being a Mami. It's my favourite thing ever." Alexia whispers, her thumb stroking over the soft skin of your hip under your shirt.
"Really?" You laugh humorlessly. "Even when I'm screaming and shouting and crying because I'm so fucking stressed? Because I can't help my own baby?"
Alexia frowns and rests up on one elbow again, using her other hand to press you onto your back so she can get a look at your face.
"Why would you say that?" Alexia asks in a voice that came across more stern than she wanted it.
"You saw the state of me when you walked in. It was such an obvious solution, what she needed, and it did not cross my mind at all. She was feeling poorly and I didn't notice. I couldn't figure it out." Your ranting voice trailed off with the last two sentences, your worries all-consuming in the moment.
"Oh, mi chica." Alexia sighs, laying down and urging you to curl into her side with your face hidden in her chest. "Don't say things like that, it breaks my heart. I believe in you as a parent more than anyone in the world, there's no one I trust more with our chiqui than you, amor. It is your first time being a parent, I do not blame you for anything. Nothing at a-"
"So why are you so perfect then? It's your first time too, yet you handle everything so much better than me." You cut her off with an argument that sounds more accusing than it actually was. Thankfully Alexia knew you didn't mean it maliciously, the only nasty thing in this situation was the doubtful devil on your shoulder.
"I just try my best, as do you. I still overthink every little thing I do and I still worry all the time. It's been a long and emotional day turned night and you're exhausted, it's fine that you didn't think of her feeling poorly because the doctors said it's a fifty-fifty chance she'd even fall ill. This is why we co-parent, because when one needs the other, we're always there. And when we need to rely on each other, that's absolutely fine. When we need help, that's fine too. I'm not perfect, neither of us will ever be the perfect parent, but to me you are perfect. I promise there is no one else I'd rather raise children with. Anaís loves you so much, and I love you so much."
She rambles on, words of devotion and appreciation seemingly spilling from her like it's second nature. At some point during her impromptu speech, her free hand had travelled up to your head as she lightly stroked through your hair.
"Do you hear me, amor?"
With a shy nod, you bury your face in her chest and sigh shakily.
"I love you." You mumble, your hand that rested on her waist squeezing gratefully.
"I love you too. Put that irrational voice in your head to the side and let's sleep as long as possible before she wakes up again. Then, we can relax all day. Even if that means staying in bed the whole time, and you know I never let that happen." Alexia jokes, relieved to hear the short, quiet giggle you let out. "I will always be proud of you. Comprendo? Always."
"Sí, Ale. Thank you." You murmur, taking one last glance at Anaís who is still sleeping soundly now that she's feeling better. Then you lay back down against Alexia's chest, loving nothing more than falling asleep cuddled up to her. "Is it okay for me to sleep like this?"
"More than okay, amor. Rest well."
Despite it not being the comfiest position for her, Alexia happily lays there and holds you until you fall asleep, which happens fairly quick. With a little readjustment and a disgruntled noise coming from you, she shifts to a better position before falling into a slumber soon after.
All the lows of parenting were miniscule in comparison to the highs, because when Anaís smiles so brightly for the first time in her life the next day, the events of the previous night were almost entirely forgotten. It happened whilst Alexia was downstairs making breakfast, you'd just dressed Anaís in her nursery and as you were smiling down at her, albeit tired and slightly delirious, she just returned the smile like it was something she'd been doing all her (short) life.
When Alexia made her way back upstairs, a filled breakfast tray in her arms, her heart dropped when she walked past the ajar door to Anaís' room to hear you sniffling once more. She thought it was something to do with the previous night, so she quickly set the food down in your room before racing back.
"What's wrong?" She asks tenderly, gently placing her hands on your shoulders as to not scare you.
"She, she smiled at me." You stammer, overjoyed at such a beautiful milestone.
"She what?" Alexia lightly moved you over so that she could stand beside you at the changing table, looking down at your daughter where she wiggled happily.
"She smiled at me! A big, gummy smile!" You repeated, Alexia laughing giddily.
"Really?!" She cried out. "How?"
"What do you mean, how?" You giggled, to which she lightly nudged your side and rolled her eyes.
"How did it happen?"
"I don't know, I was just looking at her and smiling at her little outfit and she smiled back." You recounted, a few sly tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.
"Mm, who wouldn't smile at a face like yours, amor?" It was your turn to roll your eyes, this time at her charm. "Let me see if I can make her smile."
You watch on as Alexia delicately takes hold of Anaís feet with one hand as the other comes up to dance her fingers up and down the bottom of her feet. The reaction is almost immediate.
"Oh my god, she did it again!"
You giggle at the grin offered up by the little girl in front of you, your cheeks aching as the happiness of the moment is worth everything that you'd gone through and more. And the look on Alexia's face too? It's priceless.
All in all though, one of Alexia's biggest loves was of course football, which meant there was only so long she could go without playing. However, she also couldn't bare the thought of leaving your side for too long now that Anaís was in her life, so she opted out of the international pre-season camp that the team had organised and instead chose to stay back at home to do her own specialised camp at the Barcelona training facilities. Training days were longer compared to the little and often gym days she'd had over the last few months, but for her there was absolutely nothing better than knowing that you and Anaís were waiting for her with open arms, no matter how her day had gone.
Her new way of life gave her a completely different perspective for her career, and it felt like her motivation for, not only football, but her life in general had been completely redefined. She had a tiny human being to care for now, and everytime she kicked the ball, everytime she stepped on the pitch, every pass she completed, everything she did was done so with an urgency to be as perfect as possible. And no, that wasn't a toxic mindset, because as the past couple weeks had shown her, there was hardly such a thing called perfection. Undoubtedly she was annoyed at herself whenever she made a mistake, that would never change, but as long as Anaís still greeted her with that infamous gummy smile of hers everytime she saw Alexia, it was hard to be so negative when the meaning of her life gazed up at her like Anaís did.
However, the prize that was her career came at the expense of sometimes missing out on moments that tore her heart in two.
Ever since Anaís had first smiled, Alexia had been on a mission to achieve the next milestone: hearing her giggle for the first time. The happiness of her little girl was addictive, and she was sure that when she heard her laugh for the first time, she'd want to hear it every second for the rest of her life.
Unfortunately, timings weren't on her side.
In her hotel room, hours away from her family, she checked her phone for the first time since she got back from her game that evening to see a video you had sent. And what she was met with was so beautiful, but so heartbreaking.
With your friend behind the camera, you were stood in front of the TV screen with Alexia's game playing, holding Anaís over your head and slowly lowering her down until you can blow raspberries on her tummy. Her reaction? Letting out the most adorable, high-pitched giggle. Otherwise known as the sound Alexia had been dying to hear. With that, she dropped her phone to the bed beside where she sat and covered her face in her hands.
Of course she was over the moon at such a milestone, but she found herself moved to tears at the fact she wasn't there to witness it for herself. The person she'd go to when she was down was obviously you, but when she checked the time on her watch, she saw that it was about this part of the evening that you started Anaís' nighttime routine to get her settled. It was a precarious process and the less distractions, the smoother it goes. So instead, she turned to the the other woman of reason in her life, her own Mami.
"Hi mija. How are you?" Eli answers within two rings, herself back at home in Barcelona too.
"Hola Mami, I'm okay. Did you see the game?" Not quite possessing the willpower to open up yet, she started up a light and easy conversation.
"Of course I did, it was very good. Was Keira okay after the game? She went off, right?"
"Ah, yes, she did. Just cramp, I think." Alexia murmurs, a frown on her face as she messes with the corner of the pillow and concentrates on not falling apart so quickly. But after all, it is her own Mother she's talking to.
"And how are you, really?" There it is. That's the phase that breaks anyone who's on the verge of tears.
"Um, overall I'm okay, but tonight... a bit... not okay." Her voice cracks as she speaks, her frown more prominent as a single tear sneaks out.
"Why's that, mija?" Alexia hesitates. "You can tell me anything Ale, you know that. No matter what it is."
"Well, it's not really a secret that I'm not a big fan of travelling for football. It's always been that way and you've known that." Eli hums in acknowledgement down the line. "But now, it's... so much harder. Leaving my family at home. Anaís, she changes everyday and I'm missing that."
"And you rang me because you're too afraid to ring home, aren't you?" As ever, Eli could read Alexia inexplicably well, even hundreds of miles apart.
"Yes. Because it's not their fault, it's nobody's fault. I know it is just life and it's my choice, nobody is forcing me to continue playing, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's all worth it when I'm missing out on something so incredible. Anaís laughed for the first time this evening, and I was hours away, in a different country, on a football pitch, doing what?" Alexia scoffs, bringing a hand to her forehead with a quiet groan.
"You were out on a football pitch doing your job, achieving your dream, earning to provide a great future for your family, Alexia. It's not all for nothing, it's for everything. It's for Anaís' future and how well she gets to live, that's a privilege. It's for your future child's life and how well they get to live too. This is your dream, your Papi's dream, this is everything you've worked for all your life. Your children will get to reap the benefits from it, and you'll get to watch them grow up and lead beautiful lives because of the opportunities you will provide for them." Eli reasurres her, and Alexia begins to feel better by the second.
"I know. I know. You're right, Mami. Always."
"Sí, siempre." Eli agrees with strong conviction, making Alexia laugh quietly. "Think of how many more laughs you will hear from Anaís, Ale. You have a lifetime of laughter with her. Her first laugh, it was caught on camera, I got sent the video too. So you didn't miss it, you can watch it all night long tonight. Don't get so clouded about this, I know you and how your mind works and when your nena is back in your arms tomorrow, all this will be forgotten. But if we need a longer conversation about it, you can speak to me whenever."
"You... you get me everytime, Mami." Alexia smiles, Eli laughing heartily. "Thank you. You are right. I will get over all of this. T'estimo, I will see you tomorrow?"
"Mhm, at dinner. Ring your corazón tonight, escuchame? Hablar con ella, she will want to know. Then get some rest, sí? Mi hija, jo també t'estimo. Bona nit."
"Bona nit, Mami."
Before she got herself settled for the night, she fired off a quick text to you that asked for you to ring her when you had a moment. She knew it could be five minutes or five hours until you rang her, and she would happily accept either.
Once she had done her own night routine, she gets into bed knowing she will probably not get a lot of sleep tonight, even if she's not got to get up for a unhappy baby. With that knowledge, she grabs her phone again and watches the video from earlier. Before, she'd only gotten to the part where Anaís had giggled for the first time. What she hadn't seen though was the next few seconds of it, where the match broadcast had shown a close-up of herself. Stood to the side of the screen, your friend zoomed in on Anaís' face who had recognised her Mami on the screen and let out another burst of giggles before hiding her face in your neck.
It warmed Alexia's heart to no end, and all her thoughts from earlier flew out the window at the footage she'd just seen. Whether it was physical or not, she had been there in the moment of Anaís' milestone, and she had been there in the mind of her daughter at such a time. In fact, she had also made her laugh in the moment, and that meant the world to her. She just needed to experience it in real time now.
A little later, when she was watching some junk on the hotel TV, her phone finally rang with an incoming call from you.
"Hola, amor. Thank you for ringing me." Alexia breathes out as she lays on her side in bed.
"Of course, Ale. I watched the game, it was a good result. How are you after it? Feeling alright?" You whisper, sat up against the headboard and watching Anaís as she sleeps soundly.
"Sí, todo bien. How are you? Did Anaís get to sleep okay?" Alexia's eyes shut as she asks, picturing her daughter laughing to her heart's content.
"We're all good here, she's snoozing away beside me. Bedtime went as smooth as possible." You smile and resist the urge to reach out to take Anaís' hand, not wanting to disrupt her sleep. "With a few giggles here and there."
"I saw the video. Qué niña tan increíble es, no?"
"Isn't she just?" You sigh contentedly. "Did you see the part where she giggled at you on the TV?"
"I did. I just wish I was actually there to see it." Alexia mumbles, and you can easily detect the sadness in her voice.
"I know. I... I was in half a mind whether to send the video to you or not. Because I knew it would probably upset you, that you weren't here for it. I know how much you wanted to see it."
"No, no, I'm so glad you did. Forget the football game, it made my night. I will get to see her tomorrow, it'll be fine."
A few things you'd learnt in your time with Alexia: one, she was great at shunning her feelings to the side if it made other's lives easier. Two, she would reach a point where that habit of hers would cause a meltdown. And three, you were her weak point, and she could never shy away from pouring her heart out for too long to you.
"I know you, Ale." You state softly. "I know you're more upset than you let on."
"Mm. I was but I rang my Mami and I feel better now."
"You promise?"
"I promise." Alexia smiles, because she knows that tomorrow she'll have her daughter and the love of her life back in her arms, and it'll all be okay.
"Okay. Let me know if you want to talk about it, anytime at all." Alexia hums in acknowledgement. "I have an idea."
"What's that?"
"Tomorrow, instead of getting the coach back from the airport, why don't Anaís and I pick you up?" You suggest, knowing exactly what she needs, which is to see her daughter.
"I would love that. That would be amazing." Alexia replies breathlessly a few moments later. "I would really love that."
"Then it's a plan, hm? We'll be there, waiting for you. Might even make a sign. 'Welcome home, Mami! '" You tease, grinning when Alexia chuckles shyly.
"I have been gone for a few days only. I'm not coming home from prison, amor."
"Hm, don't lie, I know you'd love it if I did do that though. I see right through you, Alexia."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You hear her stifle a yawn, and though it's not late, playing 90+ minutes of football whilst caring for a young baby are two things that are already exhausting in itself.
"Get some peaceful sleep while you have the opportunity. I'm jealous." Alexia huffs.
"You know I don't sleep after a game. Even worse when you're not with me." She complains.
"Okay, then I'll stay on the phone whilst I have a bath and I'll wait until you fall asleep." You hear the smirk before she even replies.
"And how will I sleep if I know you're in the bath?"
"You would think that now you've got a child, you'd be somewhat more mature." You roll your eyes but there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I'm not going to video call you because I know for a fact you wouldn't sleep then. I'll just talk your ear off. You normally reach a point where you stop listening when I do that."
"Anaís does too. You talk her ear off a lot."
"It's good for her development! When she starts talking at eleven months instead of twelve, you'll be thanking me."
The pair of you continue to chat and joke for long into the night, you deciding to ditch your plans for a bath and Alexia more than happy to listen to you discuss whatever came to your mind. For the whole duration of the call, there's a soft smile on her face that doubles in size when she hears you gently shushing and soothing Anaís when she fussed a little in her sleep. It was safe to say she was more excited for her airport pickup the next day than she was for anything in her life.
Because the sight of her little girl in your arms the following afternoon was a thing she didn't know it was possible to miss so dearly over a short period of time. You didn't have a sign, but in one of Anaís' tiny fists was a small Barcelona flag that matched the jersey she wore too. As soon as Alexia caught sight of you both, she ditched the conversation she was in the middle of and broke off into a light jog towards you. Anaís was turned away from her at first, but when she got closer, you shifted the little girl in your arms and pointed towards her Mami running over.
And what did she do then? At the sight of Alexia, running with her luggage and her laptop in her arms with a shy grin on her face, Anaís giggled.
"Ay, dios mío. Mi chiqui." Her voice was quiet and shaky when she spoke, immediately placing her bag down and her laptop on it before reaching out for Anaís. "Hola, nena. Hi!"
You wrap an arm around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder, laughing when Anaís reaches a little hand out to grab at Alexia's nose. The rest of the team stay back and watch the moment, Mapi having filmed it all as she knew it'd be a memory Alexia would want to keep. They had never seen this side of Alexia, where her heart was merely a puddle on the floor due to the love she held for her daughter. Anaís didn't know it yet of course, but she had Alexia wrapped around her finger from the minute she was born, and that was never going to change.
"Oh, I have missed her so much." Alexia sighs, resting her forehead against Anaís' cheek and repeatedly pressing kisses to the soft skin there. Quickly, the baby's attention inevitably falls elsewhere - being in such a hectic public space like an airport was just so intriguing for her.
"She missed you too. Look at that smile! She's dribbling all over the place." You state, Alexia shrugging nonchalantly.
"I don't care. Anaís, oye, mírame." Alexia leans back and gently pokes her daughter's cheek to gain her attention back. However, the young girl was seemingly stuck in a giggly trance as Mapi creeps closer, pulling a different face with every step she takes. "Mapi! Basta, pendeja! You are distracting her!"
You laugh at Alexia's jealousy and Mapi's subsequent pout, quickly wiping away Anaís' drool with the bib she had on.
"Ay, Ale, don't swear in front of your child." Mapi tuts, a smug grin on her face as she lightly tickles under Anaís' chin and pulls yet another giggle from her. It's simply music to Alexia's ears.
"María, come on, leave them alone." Ingrid takes Mapi's hand and pulls her away but not without a grumble from her.
Finally, now that Mapi and her childish tendencies are gone, Anaís decides to turn her attention back to Alexia.
"There is my chiqui." Alexia bops her nose lightly, eliciting her new favourite sound from her. "Shall we go home?" Anaís grins, her little tongue poking out as she does so. "Mhm, home time! Venga, Mama, let's go so we can cuddle on the couch."
With another laugh, this time at Alexia's eagerness, you pick up her laptop as well as the Barça flag that had fallen from Anaís' hand at some point, and place them both in the backpack Alexia was wearing. With Alexia holding Anaís, you go to grab her suitcase but she gets there before you.
"I have it, mamacita." Alexia smirks as she says it, and you roll your eyes and start walking. "Hm, hola to you too. I missed you also, by the way."
"Come on, my favourite groveller. Let's get dribbles here back home, she needs a nap soon."
Before she knows it, Alexia is dead to the world asleep with her head on your lap as you comb through her hair delicately and Anaís sleeps on her chest. It was a sight you had missed more than you realised, and you of course had to pull your phone out and document it. For Alexia, there was truly nothing better than being at home.
In a baby's first year of life, first-times and milestones come thick and fast. Foremost is the first feed, the first diaper change, the first sleep. Changes in both their behaviour and their appearance happen so quick, it's hard to keep up. Those initial milestones may be seen as minor, if you look past the sentimentality to them, because when the 'proper' developments start happening, that's when it gets special but utterly hectic.
Three major things seem to happen at once for Anaís. Two of them are fine, amazing actually, as they're the first step of leaving infancy: sleeping in her own room and starting to be introduced to solid food. But it's the third one that catches Alexia completely off-guard, something that happens out of the blue, and it has the Spaniard panicking like nothing else.
One moment, she's changing Anaís' diaper, the next minute, her child has vanished.
You were elsewhere in the house, probably using the valuable alone time to be productive with house chores, so you were none the wiser. Alexia had turned away for hardly a second, but Anaís was long gone.
How, one may ask?
Well, the little girl just decided to up and crawl away on her own accord.
To be honest, she didn't get very far, and neither did Alexia's panic last too long because only a few seconds later did she hear the familiar grunts of her daughter and the quiet slaps of her hands against the wooden panels of the lounge floor.
So when Alexia got up and walked towards the sound, there Anaís was, casually crawling around like it was nothing.
"Dios mío, Anaís, you scared me!" Alexia sighs, relieved, as she picks her up and puts her on her hip. "Eres tan descarada, pequeña. Honestly."
Then Alexia turned, leaving the room and wandering upstairs to find you. Anaís' nursery was empty, nor were there any sounds of life coming from any of the other rooms, so she knocked lightly on your shared bedroom door before walking in. She let out a short burst of laughter when you scrambled up off the bed, slightly embarrassed at being caught laying unproductively in bed on your phone.
"What is it?" You blurted out, cheeks a little red.
"Amor, we have a problem." Alexia sighed dramatically, worrying you slightly.
"Okay, are you going to tell me, or..?" You asked, stepping closer and smiling at the dribbling baby in Alexia's arms. She greeted you with her now toothy grin, almost like she knew the chaos she was soon to cause.
"You will never guess what just happened." Alexia laughed, as did Anaís, consequently making you laugh too.
"Tell me then!"
"I was changing her, and I looked away for one second to bag up the dirty diaper, and she was gone. She crawled away, amor. So quick." Your jaw falls in shock, eyes flicking between Alexia's slightly fearful face and Anaís' blissfully unaware one.
"You're joking." Alexia shakes her head.
"No. We have a little explorer on our hands now. We will have to tape our eyes open, otherwise we could blink and she will be gone."
You stay frozen for a little longer, eyes wide and mouth agasp, before your body deflates and you slap your palm against your forehead with a deep groan.
"Welcome to the start of toddler life, amor!"
The chaos of having a small child that now possessed many worrisome abilities wasn't all bad, because after all, there were still many moments that continuously proved everything that parenthood involved was 100% worth it.
Any challenges or difficulties that life threw at you and Alexia were almost always temporarily forgotten whenever Anaís was around. That was the best thing about having a child; they are so young and innocent and cheerful, it's hard to feel down for too long when they're giggling in your face or squealing at nothing or even just sleeping in your arms.
That's where Alexia found herself today.
Even with her newfound confidence and willpower for football, sometimes that all slipped out from underneath her feet. That was the case with the game she'd just arrived home from. Anaís had had a small sleep regression recently, causing the both of you to be up and down constantly all night. Ultimately it took its toll on the both of you, but with you still on maternity leave whilst Alexia travelled around Spain and Europe for match after match, she was inexplicably exhausted.
Everything had caught up with her it seemed, because no matter how hard she tried and how frustrated she got, nothing went her way in the game. So much so that she was taken off at the 60 minute mark due to her performance, something that hadn't happened to her in... well, she couldn't remember.
The only positive from the day was the fact it was a home game, meaning she'd be able to crawl into bed and hide from the world for sometime with her little family. She wouldn't be lying if she said she had never desired anything more.
When she got back to the house, you were in the kitchen having just eaten a late dinner as Anaís was lay in her mobile swing, the saving grace to her sleeping issues as it seemed to be the only thing to get her off to sleep at night now. There was a plate of food waiting in the microwave for Alexia, but her appetite was completely gone at this point.
"Hola." She whispered when she walked into the room.
"Ale." You smiled sadly at her broken demeanour, immediately opening your arms. With a slight hesitation, she comes over and allows herself to let go in your embrace, and the tension you feel under your arms tells you everything you need to know about her current state of mind. "I know you're probably frustrated with yourself about today, but I want you to know I'm still proud of you. For everything, absolutely everything."
"W... Why?" Alexia mumbles insecurely.
With a frown, you lean back slightly and bring up both hands to rest on her cheeks. She doesn't meet your eyes until you raise her chin up a little, and it opens up a world of emotional complexity.
"Why am I proud of you?" You repeat and Alexia nods. "Because you are playing football at the highest standard in Europe and achieving so much, whilst also being the best Mami for our little girl. That's hard, Alexia, two very difficult things to juggle at once and you just do it. I can't ask anymore from you. That is why I'm proud of you."
She makes a noise of uncertainty, almost like she can't believe you'd say such a thing. At that, you sigh and urge her to bury her face back into your neck, to which she does so instantly. One of her hands comes up to clutch at the back of your neck as the other wraps tightly around the small of your back, and you let her stay like that for as long as she needs.
Some time passed before she decided to pull back, to which she rested her temple against yours for a few seconds until she looked down at you.
"Thank you." Alexia breathes out, turning slightly to look at where Anaís was fast asleep in her swing. "I... I know she is asleep, but can I pick her up? Please?" You pull a face at the question, wondering why she's asking to pick up her own daughter, but Alexia interprets it differently. "I just need to hold her, amor. If I wake her up, it's my fault and I-"
"No, Ale, of course you can pick her up. Of course you can." You tell her, and she moves instantly.
This version of Alexia you unfortunately knew too well. Even as a senior, veteran player, her whole self-worth completely crumbled whenever she gave a poor performance in a game. It was something about her that would probably never change, so you had grown accustomed to it over time. And tonight was one of those especially bad occasions, but it's the first time it had happened since Anaís had come into your lives, so you were sure that the little girl's presence was involved in the buildup to Alexia's current mindset, but she could also be the exact solution the Spaniard needed.
With your worries for your partner in the back of your mind, you watched as Alexia delicately unclasped the buckle keeping Anaís secure before picking her up.
"Shh, mi nena, sólo soy yo, tu Mami." She quietly soothed her, one hand holding Anaís up against her shoulder as the other rubs comfortingly across her back. The little girl immediately turns her face into Alexia's neck, mewling at the disruption before she soon settled again. "Te quiero mucho, preciosa."
"Why don't you go through to the lounge and I'll heat up your dinner for you?" You suggest, watching as Alexia nods wordlessly and leaves the room.
Seeing her like this, it's unexplainably difficult. You know there is not much you can say that'll make a difference to how she feels right now, it's something Alexia has to work through on her own, a classic case of time heals all, but that acknowledgement doesn't soften the blow at all. However, you hope that spending time with you and Anaís will make her feel a little better before the night is over.
You get a hint of that when you walk into the lounge a few minutes later; Alexia is sat stiffly upright against the sofa, the uncomfortable position of her contrasted by her closed eyes as Anaís lay across her shoulder. Alexia had her face turned to the side into Anaís, and under the dim light of the room, lit up only by a lamp in the corner, you notice a stream of tears running down her cheek.
Wasting no time, you put the plate you were holding down onto the coffee table before sitting down beside them both. Careful not to disrupt the peace either of them had created, you wrap an arm around Alexia's shoulders and press a gentle kiss to her jaw. The midfielder shifts slightly so that she's leaning against you, keeping Anaís in place as you raise a hand to brush her tears away.
"Okay?" You whisper, resting your head against hers.
"Mhm." Her voice cracks slightly even as she hums, so you hug her a little tighter.
All three of you settle into silence, comforted by the sound of Anaís snoring lightly. Nothing needs to be said, nor could you think of anything, so you allow Alexia this moment to decompress from the day, wanting nothing more than for her to feel better. It doesn't matter to you how she gets there, whether that's by staying on this sofa all night long with you and Anaís, or forgetting to eat her dinner in front of her, whatever it takes you'll let her do. Because you think the world of her, and when she's feeling down, it offsets everything around you.
Until, some time later, Alexia breaks the silence with a sentiment that causes you to tear up too.
"I wish I could stay here forever."
She spoke so quietly, you would have missed it if you weren't waiting for it.
"Here, with you and with Anaís. Nobody watching us, no one asking anything from us. Just us three." It was clear from the tone of her voice that she's getting a bit teary again, and it tugs at every one of your heart strings. "Nothing can match this. I never want to do anything else again."
"Ale." You sigh shakily, suppressing cries of your own as her shoulders shake with silent sobs.
In her mind, she had to be completely silent, because if she woke up Anaís now, you don't even want to think about what her mind would tell her. It would be lethal. She couldn't handle failing at another thing, couldn't handle disappointing the two people she loved most.
"Go put her to bed before I wake her."
"Are you sure?" She nodded and shifted away from you.
"Don't want to wake her up."
With that, you stand up and watch Alexia place a final kiss to Anaís' forehead before she gives her to you. You move as quickly as possible without waking your daughter up, delicately placing her down in the crib in her room and grimacing as you do so in case she wakes up with a cry, but the universe must be on your side today because she stays asleep. A relieved sigh escapes you as you flick on the baby monitor, grabbing one of them and leaving the room. Heading back downstairs, you cautiously make your way back to the living room, not really sure what sight you'll walk into.
What you see is equally as heartbreaking as every time you'd looked at Alexia this evening.
She's seated in the same position as before, but this time her head is thrown back against the cushions of the sofa, and her face is completely stoic and devoid of emotion. The exception that gave her away were the stuttered breaths coming from her and the damp lines down her cheeks.
You join her again, wrapping both arms around her this time and pulling her fully into you. One of her hands comes up to grip your upper arm as she cries a little harder into your shoulder.
"We both love you, Alexia, so much. Please don't forget that." You remind her, stroking up and down her back as you embrace her. "You're more than good enough for us, no matter what your mind is telling you."
That seems to hit a sensitive point for her, because she only sobs harder into you. The only thing you can do now is be there for her, so you decide against speaking anymore to wait for her outburst of emotions to simmer down.
It takes longer than you expect, but eventually it does happen, and she falls quiet again whilst slumped against you. Casting your mind back through the years with her, you can't recall a time seeing Alexia as distraught as she was tonight. So, at that revelation, you gently urge her head back up from your shoulder and properly look at her. With your hands on either one of her cheeks, you lean in to press the softest kiss of mankind onto her forehead. It pulls more tears out of her, the tenderness of it, but her shoulders aren't wracking with sobs and her breathing is almost entirely normal.
"What's going on?" You question, gazing up into her normally piercing eyes, but tonight they were half-lidded and filled with defeat.
"No sé." She rasped. Her mind is way too convoluted to unravel everything going on at the moment, so she finds the words to say and pieces them together. "Not tonight. Please."
"Okay, that's okay. We don't have to." You reassure her, and you can see the relief flood her as her body deflates. "Can I talk though? I have some things to say."
"Sí." She shrugged, taking one of your hands with both of hers and fiddling with the rings you wore.
"Hey, you gotta look at me." You demand softly, tilting her chin up. You meet her eyes and smile a little, an act that rids her mind of one of the dark clouds over her. "I don't care how soppy and cliché this is, but meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."
Alexia chuckles at that, something she's done thousands of times in front of you, but this one perhaps means the most.
"That is cliché." She comments, grinning half-heartedly when you roll your eyes.
"I already said it was, you can't claim that one. Let me finish." You push her shoulder lightly before composing yourself again. "You are the only person I want, Ale, and you mean so much to me. I can't even put it into words, so that's all you're getting for that part."
She laughs again, this time a little more tearfully as your loving words are fighting off all her doubts.
"To Anaís and I, it doesn't matter how many goals you get in a game or how many trophies you get in a season. I just want my Ale to be happy, and Anaís just wants her Mami to be happy. We will love you no matter what, and I'll be here as I am now to remind you, and Anaís will remind you the next time she's sick from you making her laugh." Alexia shakes her head at the reminder of an incident she had certainly learnt her lesson from a few months ago, the pair of you laughing quietly about it again. "You've seen the way Anaís looks at you. She's infatuated with you, Ale. And it's possibly my favourite thing in the world."
She sniffles a few times but nevertheless nods when you finish talking, feeling indefinitely better than she did when she got home. Raising your hand, she lightly kisses your ring finger before leaning forward to envelope you in a tight hug. It's an embrace that conveys all the words she can't verbalise right now, something you instantly understand as you know the woman in your arms better than she knows herself at this point.
"You're all we both will ever need. You just need to remember that more often."
There was a conversation that you and Alexia had had during the time you were trying to get pregnant, one that all same-sex couples most likely have at that stage. But it was resolved fairly quickly, and that was that you would be Mama and Alexia would be Mami. Ever since then, you and Alexia had endlessly teased and bantered each other about what Anaís would say first out of the two options.
What you weren't expecting though, was Alexia's reaction when Anaís eventually did say her first word.
Anaís bellowed her first word at you one random morning when you walked into her room where she sat waiting for her parents in her crib. Alexia was a few steps behind where you froze in place, overcome with about every emotion one could name at the fact Anaís had not only spoken, but said Mama too.
Alexia's excitement kicked in immediately, so she skipped over to Anaís' crib and picked her up, holding her in the air and grinning up at her.
"What did you just say, chiqui? Did you say... Mama?"
"Mama!" Anaís squealed loudly, giggling when Alexia rewarded her with a barrage of kisses.
You were still stuck in place, the only difference was that there were now tears of joy dripping onto the carpet by your feet. Alexia turned with your daughter in her arms, laughing when she brought her over to you.
"Hola, Mama! Let's wipe these tears, right Anaís?" She takes one of Anaís' hands and uses it to brush the tears off of your face. "Say the magic word, nena! Mama!"
"Mamaaaa." She shouts and to add to the sentiment of the moment, she points right at you as she says it, indicating that she does actually know what she's saying.
"Yes, well done! Oh, we are so proud of you, chiqui, aren't we?" You nod and cover your face with your hands, curling into Alexia's side. It's a struggle for her to hug you whilst also holding a wiggly Anaís who is always giddy in the morning, but she makes it work. "Sí, we are, Anaís. Mama, are you okay?"
"Yes, yes, perfect. I just can't believe she said it." You sniffle, removing your hands from your face but staying at Alexia's side.
Anaís grins as you reach out to cup her cheek, turning her head to blow raspberries against your hand. The three of you laugh together, you and Alexia forever enraptured by every display of Anaís' ever growing personality.
"I always knew she would say Mama first and I'm so glad she did." Alexia admits, chuckling at the confused face you pull.
"Why?" You wonder, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Anaís' nose.
"Because you deserve it. You did all the hard work with her, being pregnant and then giving birth like a campeona, and you do a great job being her Mama. It was only right for her to say it first."
You had no idea she felt such a way about the situation, and it only caused you to get emotional again. It wasn't that Alexia never voiced her gratitude towards you, she did it daily, it's just that hearing her speak so highly of you as a parent meant far more to you than you could ever voice.
"Thank you, Ale. That's unbelievably sweet of you to say." You giggle, thumbing away a few tears and leaning your head against her shoulder.
"Buena, it's the truth. Oye, Anaís?" Alexia calls back Anaís' attention, smirking when her daughter looks up at her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to say the inevitable. "Ma..."
"Mama!" Anaís grins at you again, jerking forwards towards you.
"Woah!" You catch her, holding her tight against you in a loving hug. "You are crazy, Anaís."
The little girl seems surprisingly outraged at that as starts to babble away unabashedly in your arms, her hands gesturing wildly as she did so, a trait she'd clearly picked up from her Mami. You giggle at her unintelligible ramble, blushing when Alexia randomly places an affectionate kiss on your cheek.
"Loca como su Mama, amor!" Alexia comments with a poke at Anaís' leg. "She even loves chattering away like you."
"Sí, nuestra paralanchina pequeña."
You tickle Anaís' tummy, interrupting her ramble. She turns to you with an angry face that is scarily similar to Alexia's, and the pair of you have to stifle your laughter at the sight of it out of fear of whatever terrible consequences she'd release upon you both.
"Enojada como su Mama también." Alexia mutters.
It's your turn to fix her with a warning glance. She instantly backs down with her hands up in surrender, stepping away from the fury running through the veins of her two favourite girls.
"Mama?" Anaís turns back to you with a questioning glance, and you take advantage of that.
"Sí, Anaís, Mami needs to run away right now, doesn't she?" You smile politely at your daughter, one she returns, before you both look back to Alexia with those menacing grins. A second passes before she sprints out the room. Anaís laughs and you chuckle too, walking out of the room in a much calmer fashion.
If there was one thing you'd learnt about parenting so far, it was that you should never take things for granted. There's a seemingly infinite number of firsts in a person's life and being there to witness them all as a parent was an experience that couldn't be conformed to a few measly adjectives. Sure, you would hear Anaís say 'Mama' countless times in your life, but you wouldn't ever get to hear it for the first time again. Sometimes, when you thought about that, you were consumed by sorrow, but that was part and parcel of parenthood. No matter how harrowing it was, you had no choice but to accept it.
The thing that easily made up for it was spending the rest of your life as a parent to Anaís, and in the grand scheme of things, that was the biggest privilege you could ever have.
Not so long after the beautiful experience that was Anaís' saying her first word, she turned a whole year old. One year of having a little plus one with you everywhere you went, one year of seeing the woman you love grow into an amazing parent, one whole year of nothing but the absolute best memories you've ever had the honour experiencing. To say it had been the best twelve months of your life was a complete understatement.
Obviously due to your work and Alexia's games, you had a very low-key day between yourselves on her actual birthday, and 'day' was a generous word. It was more of a frantic celebration because of course Anaís chose her birthday to be the day she had her first ever lie-in. When she finally woke up, it meant you only had less than an hour to spend as a family before Alexia had to leave for training which doubled into media day that she couldn't avoid. Fortunately, the team had organised it so that she was first so she could get home as soon as possible, but she had still grumbled about it everyday since it was arranged.
The short hour was enjoyable nevertheless, if not a little emotional, and you practically had to push Alexia out of the door so that she wasn't late. You understood her defiance, knowing that if you were in her shoes you would be wrecked at having to be away from Anaís on her birthday, but it was only for a few hours and that was enough persuasion for her to go.
When she did return, she hardly let Anaís out of her sight. That was until her closest family and childhood friends came over for a calm dinner to celebrate your daughter. It was turning out that Anaís was quite the social butterfly, so she was happy to be passed around all evening to the ones you and Alexia loved most. The day completely exhausted her though, and that night you and Alexia spent far longer than normal stood over her where she slept in her crib.
The midfielder was behind you with her arms around your torso, her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at your daughter's sleeping form. This time a year ago, you were in a hospital bed with a tiny, wrinkly baby in your arms as Alexia lay beside you. Now, a year on, that little newborn had completely grown into her own and was fast on her way to walking. It was a bittersweet contrast for sure, but you were well adjusted to how fast time moves and how to accept things, so it didn't plague you in the same way things had in the past.
To Alexia, not that she had made you aware yet, this day wasn't just about Anaís, but you too. Because a year ago today, she had graced her eyes upon the greatest wonder in the world, and that was all down to you. You, who had gone through agonising pain for much longer than just the time you were in labour, and managed to deliver her daughter perfectly healthy. Never would she take that for granted, and she had a little trick up her sleeve to make sure you knew that.
"Amor, come to the lounge with me." She whispered, pairing it with a kiss to your bare shoulder beside your vest strap.
After a last moment of admiration, you nodded and allowed her to lead you to the living room, your hand in hers as you trailed after her. When you got there, she urged you to sit right in the middle of the sofa in front of the TV before she walked off to grab her laptop. She came back in a few moments later and turned the TV on, then mirroring her laptop screen to show up on the bigger screen. You watched it all with a curious frown, none the wiser to what you were about to see.
"I wanted to make something for us to remember the past year by." Alexia said, pausing as she searched for the right file. "It is also a gift from me to you because we should celebrate you too today. You gave birth to our little girl, and that is no easy feat. So this is just a small way for me to express my gratitude to you since words will never do you justice."
You'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't beating about a hundred miles an hour by now. Alexia hadn't even shown you what she had organised yet, but you had an inkling that in a few moment's time you would be emotionally ruined.
Alexia pressed play on the video she had pulled up and came to sit beside you. Before the first image had even come on, it was still just a black screen, you scrambled to find her hand and clutched it tightly in your lap.
In the next couple minutes, numerous photos and videos of your little family of three were displayed on the screen, a compilation of all the best documented moments captured within the last year. Some of them were taken by you obviously, but the larger majority of them were from Alexia's point of view and you had a sneaky feeling that was the point of it. A lot of the things in the montage you hadn't even seen, like the video of you singing a Spanish nursery rhyme to Anaís one night when she was still a newborn, or the picture of you fast asleep with Anaís on your chest with two fistfuls of your t-shirt, and way more of the same value that had you crying almost instantly.
Next to you, Alexia had a pensive look on her face, anxious as to what your thoughts were. Obviously she noticed you were crying, but she stayed unmoving until the video ended and you reacted first.
And due to a lack of better words in the moment, you accidentally give Alexia a momentary heart attack...
"Alexia, what the hell?" You cried, one hand over your eyes. The Spaniard froze beside you because out of all the thing she expected you to say, that was not one of them.
"Did you not like it?" She asked in an insecure voice, to which you turned to her in shock.
"No, I loved it, Ale." You told her, and she left out perhaps the biggest sigh of relief you had ever seen someone do. "Why did you do it though?"
"Because I just appreciate you so much, amor, and I need you to know that. Seeing you and watching you with Anaís is a magical thing to witness and I wanted you to see it through my eyes. It is the greatest honour of my life, being able to love you both. The second greatest honour is being alive to witness you with her." She explained earnestly, her free hand that wasn't held by yours coming to cradle your face. You leaned into it immediately, the image of you with your head tilted to the side with a soft pout and tears on your cheeks drove Alexia crazy. "Look at you! I can't get enough of you, you make me go crazy."
With a wet laugh, you raised a hand up to rest on the back of hers on your face and turned to kiss her palm.
"You drive me crazy with your grand gestures like you just did! You need to tell me who made that for you so that I can get them to do one for your Christmas present." You say, Alexia chuckling and shaking her head.
She manoeuvres you so that you're sat on her lap with your back to her chest, and she hugs you tighter than ever like that.
"You see what I see now?" She murmurs into your ear, and you're unsure if the hand that settles over your stomach is a subtle hint.
"What's that?" You wonder innocently, leaning your head back to rest against her shoulder. With you like that, she turns to place a few gentle kisses to the new skin on show.
"I see the most incredible, beautiful, and caring Mami in the world. One that loves so whole-heartedly, you leave an imprint on everyone you come across. When I first met you and I fell victim to that effect, I knew I had to have you. But I had no idea quite the impact you would have on my life. I find myself doing the stupidest things in the world just so I hear two people laugh." She huffs, grinning when she hears you giggle. "I also find myself loving the two most amazing people on the planet. These two people happen to love me too, and I have to think of myself as the luckiest person in the world to say that. My fortune far precedes my most ambitious dreams, because with you and Anaís in my life, what more could I want?"
Oh, what a fool you would be to deny her of that.
Later that same summer came the World Cup, and this time around it was held in Brazil. If it wasn't for Anaís, you would have of course tried to get over there for at least one of Alexia's games. But that would be too challenging and complicated to do with a one year old, so Alexia didn't even blink twice when you fearfully brought up that fact to her on one of the last nights you would spend with her before the summer turn of games started.
Before Alexia left though, you had a small present in store for her. The morning of the day she would be leaving, you were adamant at being the one to dress Anaís because there was a vital piece of her outfit that she needed to wear.
That key item was a Spain jersey of course, with Mami 11 printed on the back. So when you walked into the kitchen where Alexia ate her breakfast, she gave you a funny look at the weird way you were carrying Anaís. But that look was wiped off her face when you place Anaís on the ground for her to walk over to Alexia. The midfielder's jaw dropped as she noticed her daughter's shirt, but it wasn't until she spotted the detail on the back that she was overcome with emotion.
"Amor, you did this?" Alexia asked, abandoning her breakfast as she crouched down and held her arms out for a wobbly Anaís to wander over to her.
"I did." You replied proudly, watching as Alexia hugged her daughter tightly before turning her around so she could get a good look at her jersey.
"Dios mío, pingüino. Look at you." Alexia whispers in amazement, then she picks up Anaís and walks over for a family hug. "Thank you, thank you. That's amazing."
And of course, for every one of Spain's matches that tournament, you and Anaís were watching with your jerseys on in full support for Alexia. Before each game, you would take a photo of you both and send it to Alexia, which she told you was what empowered her to walk out onto the pitch for every game. You and your daughter missed Alexia of course, but it was much harder for her since she was halfway across the world from her family.
It was that much harder when her team were knocked out of the tournament in the semi-finals.
...But, when she arrived back to her hotel room later that night after that dreadful game, she sensed a spark of her excitement in her chest, because the loss meant she could come home. It meant she could finally see you and Anaís after what felt like a lifetime apart, and she focused all of her energy on that eagerness she felt instead of the effects of the defeat.
And the reunion was so worth it, because this time you and Anaís did greet her with a sign at the airpot this time, and the Spaniard all but collapsed into the arms of you both when she saw you.
You thought the biggest shock of your summer would be Spain getting knocked out in the semi-finals, but unbeknownst to you, there was a whole other storm coming.
After the World Cup, Alexia whisked you and Anaís away on a holiday to escape from the world and spend time together as a family without the pressures of life. But when you were lounging on one of the outdoor beds on the balcony of your hotel room one day of the holiday, you heard a statement you were not expecting.
"I'm going to retire from the national team."
Alexia was wandering aimlessly around the balcony, trying to bounce Anaís to sleep for her mid-day nap when she had said it.
"What?" You sat up and raised your sunglasses to look at her properly, wondering if you there was a chance you had heat stroke and may had hallucinated it.
"I said I am retiring from the national team." She repeated nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just revealed huge news.
"I'm not quite sure we're on the same page, Ale. Could you explain a little?"
With a chuckle, Alexia tugs Anaís' hat further down so that it blocks the sun from her eyes when Alexia sits on the edge of your sun bed.
"I have decided to step down from the national team, for good. I have much more interesting things to do with my time now." She shrugged, glancing down at her daughter. "When we get back from vacation, I have a meeting with the federation to tell them. Nobody knows, it's a decision I made for myself."
"Are you sure?" You're a bit speechless, caught off guard by the sudden admission.
"Very sure. I'm certain that this is what I want to do. I'm content with everything I've achieved for the team, so now is my time. I'm not ready to retire fully, that's a while off yet, but I don't want to spend so long away from you both again. It's just not worth it. I'm not missing that much of Anaís' life again." Alexia explains.
You take a moment to process the sudden declaration, before you lean forward to wrap an arm around her and hugging her carefully, mindful of Anaís in between you both.
"Well, I guess that's that. As long as you're sure, Ale, then there's not much to say. I'm grateful you've made that decision, who would I be to get upset at the fact we're going to have more time together?" You say, noticing the relieved smile on her face. "You don't want to, I don't know, discuss it a bit more? With anyone, doesn't have to be me. I just don't want you to regret it."
"No, I'm completely okay with it, amor. I think I had already made this decision before Brazil. It was something I needed to figure out on my own, and I have had long enough to process it and now I'm fine with it. I think I am actually excited."
Now that she mentions it, she does have a lighter look in her eyes, like this is a weight off of her shoulders. She had come back from the tournament with that look, and it irritated you that you couldn't figure it out at first, but now you completely understood it. You smile at her, filled from head to toe with pride and love for the woman in front of you, and you lean forward to kiss her softly.
"I'm happy to hear that." You whisper, and she can't help but lean back for more.
One more thing about parenthood to add to the list, was that children had the worst timing in the world.
"Oh no. Ay dios. I'm sorry, amor, I would really love to continue this but I need to go change her diaper right now."
Before you could open your eyes, Alexia was scurrying off into the hotel room, and you didn't even want to know what had just happened.
There soon came to be a very special occasion for Alexia, one she had been dreaming of for as long as she could remember. For some time now, you and Alexia had had multiple discussions about when Anaís would go to her first game, and finally the pair of you had landed on an option.
Barcelona were due to play in the final of the Super Cup in Madrid, and you, Anaís, and other members of Alexia's family were travelling to attend the game. You were beyond excited for it; since Anaís had come into your life, you had hardly been to many of Alexia's games, something you adored doing before you had a child to care for.
Alexia, on the other hand, was encumbered by nerves as she lined up in the tunnel for the game. She can't remember the last time she had been nervous for a match, so she didn't really know what to do with herself. For the few minutes she was in the tunnel, her mind was almost in overdrive - would Anaís be okay? You and her family were there for her, she had to be. Would she kick up a fuss? She was still only young after all. Would she hate the amount of people there and the noise of it all? Well, that one couldn't be possible because Alexia had bought some baby ear defenders that she demanded you pack, so at least there was one surefire solution. She couldn't spiral for any longer though because Cata shoved her from behind when the captain didn't move.
The game went off without a hitch, and when Alexia did her pre-match tradition as she hopped onto the pitch, her mind clicked into concentration. That didn't stop her from glancing up at the section of the stadium she knew her family was in though, desperate to catch a glimpse of her daughter. She finally did spot you both as she was walking off the pitch at half-time, almost melting on the spot when she saw you holding Anaís who of course wore a Barcelona jersey on top of her jumper so that she stayed warm. With an eager wave, she admired the view for a bit longer, before jogging off to the tunnel.
She was glad to find that her nerves didn't affect her performance, bagging two assists to help the team win 3-1. It was a great match to watch as a fan, and you were thrilled for Alexia and her team, and the cherry on the cake was the fact that Anaís had been no trouble at all throughout it. For about twenty minutes of the first half, she fell asleep, but was startled awake by the crowd (and you) when Barcelona scored their first goal. Since then, she had been wide awake, and as good as gold.
From your place in the stands, you watched on with pride as the trophy ceremony carried out, forever happy to see Alexia with a medal around her neck and a trophy in her arms.
But perhaps the most exciting moment of the day for Alexia was when you walked out of the tunnel a little while later with Anaís in your arms. Alexia ran over as soon as she spotted you, knowing this was the plan all along if Anaís had coped well. She laughed giddily as she approached you and wrapped you both up in a tight hug, flooded with pure happiness.
"Well done, Mami!" You grin, patting her cheek a few times before offering Anaís out to her.
"Mami!" Anaís shouted in Alexia's face, before her attention inevitably falls to the shiny metal hanging from her neck, She tries to pick it up, but it's a little heavy for her, meaning it thumps Alexia heavily in the chest.
"Oof, Anaís." Alexia huffs, taking off her medal and putting it around your neck instead.
"Ale." You roll your eyes, cheeks slightly red, and when you try to take it off her hand reaches out to stop it.
"Leave it, amor." She smirks, kissing you quickly as you go to argue again. Leaving you a tad flustered, she turns back to her daughter. "Oye, Anaís! What's that?"
The midfielder points to one of the footballs off at the side of the pitch, and Anaís' face immediately lights up.
"Ball!" She grins, reaching a grabby hand out towards it.
"You want to play?" Alexia wonders, going over to collect the ball and walking it further onto the field before placing Anaís down in front of it. "Kick it, chiqui!"
Rather unceremoniously, Anaís does kick it but not without falling afterwards. You laugh as she tumbles down, Alexia rushing over and doting on her.
"Ale, she'll be okay, don't stress her out." You tell her, to which she nods and rights her daughter again before coming back to your side. "She doesn't quite have your elegance yet."
"I know." Alexia snickers, and the pair of you follow to wherever Anaís toddles off to. "Look at her go though. Not really a waddling little pingüino anymore."
The nickname, 'pingüino', had come about back when Anaís took her first steps just after she turned a year old, and it had stuck since then.
"No, she isn't." You hum in agreement, throwing an arm around Alexia's waist as you continue trailing after your little girl. "Uh oh."
There wasn't any real danger when you uttered that, it was just Mapi.
"Hola nena! Wow, look at you!" Mapi ran over to her and swooped her up off the ground. "What name do you have on your back... oh, boo! Boring! I think you should have my name, sí Ale?"
"Over my dead body." Alexia grumbled, elbowing you when you laughed at her grumpiness. "That is an emergency shirt, we didn't have time for a name because we didn't realise her other one was too small for her jumper."
"Blah, blah, blah... no wonder you are always sleepy, Anaís, her talking is tiring me too!" Mapi teased, wincing dramatically at the disapproving huff Alexia gives. "Oh no, nena. We need to run. Let's go play before Mami kills me, huh?"
You shake your head at Mapi's antics and watch as she steals your daughter away to play football with her. Alexia has a subtle smile on her face, and you giggle quietly when you see it, knowing she's trying to act like the captain she is but can't resist the cuteness of her daughter.
"Cálmate, Capi." You bump your hip into hers, smirking when she looks down at you with a suppressed grin. Now you take the medal off and place it back around her neck, silencing her complaints in the same way she did to you earlier. "You have too many medals and trophies now, campeona, I'm not sure our house can stand the extra weight."
"Behave." Alexia muttered lovingly, pulling you in for a proper hug. "Thank you for coming, and thank you for bringing her too."
"Of course. I loved being at a game again, and Anaís handled it perfectly. She had a little nap in the first half but stayed awake for the rest of it."
"Really?" Alexia said, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as her face contorted to one of shy excitement, an adorable sight to see.
"Yes, she did. She didn't cry once, she was very settled." Alexia nodded and casted her eyes back over to Anaís. "Told you she would love going to your games."
At that, she finally lets herself break out into a whole-hearted grin, and she hugs you tight to her side as you watch Mapi and a few others dote over Anaís.
"I need her at every game. She is my good luck charm." She mumbles, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "Mapi is going to injure our mija."
She wasn't exactly wrong on that part; Mapi had started passing the ball softly to Anaís and urging her to kick it, to which she did but not without falling over again. The defender can't help herself: she passes Anaís the ball over and over, and Anaís tumbles down each time. Mapi would burst out laughing, before helping Anaís up and giving her the ball once more. Luckily Anaís saw the humour in it too, giggling almost just as much as Mapi.
Alexia let it happen once more before marching over. You were a little out of earshot, but you saw Alexia pick Anaís up from the floor and brush off the grass from her clothes, then she turned to Mapi with an accusing point and most likely the sternest voice she could muster. From your viewpoint, you could tell Mapi was stifling yet more laughter, but she kept up the innocent act in front of her friend. And when Alexia turned away from her with a shake of her head, Mapi looked over at you with a huge grin that you matched, letting her know she wasn't actually in trouble like Alexia tried to establish.
"That woman is the bane of my life." Alexia complained when she came back over to you, a slightly damp and grassy child in her arms.
"Mm, you love her really." You retaliate, flicking a blade of grass off of Anaís' arm.
"So what." Alexia huffed, cradling Anaís closely to her chest and swaying a little. "Oh, dios. She's so grown up."
"I know." You pout at the sight of Anaís in her arms, now calm and a bit tired. "Already kicking a ball about."
"We must buy her some football boots soon." You shake your head and laugh.
"She's not even two years old yet."
"Doesn't matter, amor. Project Putellas starts now."
The night before Anaís' second birthday was a turning point to remember; you and Alexia, in the spur of the moment, agreed on having another child in the very near future. When she initiated the decision, you hadn't even hesitated to affirm your willingness to her. It was an easy choice for you because both of you had always wanted two children, but in the past two years the topic of making that happen had hardly been brought up. You knew the time would come, and now it was here.
For the rest of the time you spent preparing the cake for it to go in the oven, the pair of you revelled in the coy anticipation that lingered in the air. Separately, your minds were running wild with the limitless possibilities that could occur in the next few years, until you stood up from placing the tray in the oven and Alexia was there, gazing at you with the softest smile she could muster.
"Another baby, huh?" She commented quietly, taking hold of your hand.
"Apparently so." You matched her smile, both of you watching the other before Alexia pulled you in for a tight hug. "You sure?"
"Amor, que pregunta tan estupida." She said bluntly, making you laugh. "I have never been so sure of a decision before. I believe now is the time for us to have another, as long as you are sure."
"Oh, what a stupid thing to say." You teased her, grinning when she grumbled and lightly hit your waist. "I'm more than ready to have another."
"Hm, good." She smirks, and her hands travel a little lower on your back. "We can go try if you'd like?"
"Really?" You scoffed, swatting her hands away and stepping out of her grasp. "Come on. Help me make this icing. And don't make any inappropriate suggestions."
From that day on, the pair of you delve yourselves into the process of IVF again. After last time, you both were more than happy with it all and how the process goes, so you chose the reciprocal type again and were there for each other through it all once again. It was a little trickier trying to do injections with an investigative toddler who wanted to be involved with it too, never straying far from you two, but you made it work.
However, not all things can go to plan. Perhaps the first time with Anaís had been too good to be true, because conceiving this time was much more difficult.
Over and over, yours and Alexia's emotions were tugged from left to right, one day on cloud nine and other days plunged into the deepest melancholia. It was a ruthless and relentless cycle of hope, anticipation, disappointment and frustration. Your self-worth took a gut-wrenching blow each time, your mind overgrown with blame and guilt and inadequacy. But, as someone wise beyond their years once said, your fortune far preceded your hopes because each and everytime Alexia and Anaís were there to pull you back up out of your pit of darkness.
"Amor." Alexia whispered gently one morning, sitting beside where you lay in bed and placing Anaís in her lap. "Wake up, mija, it is a big day, we need y-"
"Mama! Up, now!" Anaís shouted, pushing against your shoulder.
"Anaís, no! That is not nice, I told you to be gentle. Gentle, sí?" Alexia scolds quietly, about to warn Anaís again when you rolled over with a tight-lipped smile on your face.
"Morning." You muttered, bracing yourself when you saw Anaís stand in Alexia's lap. "Oof, chiqui, good morning to you too."
"Feliz navidad, mis amores." Alexia said, resting a hand on Anaís' back as a reminder for her to stay calm.
"Christmas, Mama." Anaís grinned down at you, placing two heavy hands on your cheeks, smushing them together, and giving you a quick kiss.
"Mhm, happy Christmas, bebíta." You sat up and gave her a hug that lasted about a millisecond due to her very limited attention span.
"Anaís, why don't you go get your stocking from your room? We will open it in here." She didn't need to be told twice - she leaped off the bed, briefly scaring the life out of you and Alexia, before racing out of the room. Alexia turned to you when she left, looking over you with a watcful eye. "How are you, amor?"
The previous day, cruelly on Christmas Eve, you both had found out that the third IVF attempt had not resulted in a pregnancy. What should have been a day filled with fesitivies and joy and tradition, was instead another day of grieving. After you had gotten home from the appointment, Alexia had quickly dropped Anaís off at Eli's for the afternoon so that her full attention could be on you. Not much was said or done, this had occurred one too many times now for any words to be of gratification. You both just needed time together, away from any other worries, to be able to process it. The healing process wasn't a straightforward one, you didn't magically feel better this morning, but knowing what day it was made it just a tad easier.
"Not bad, but not great. I just don't want to think about it. For one day at least." You answered, and she nodded instantly.
"We can do our best. When that little rocket is around, I think we'll be swept off our feet." Alexia said, glad to hear even just the breath of laughter you give her. "Don't hesitate to tell me if you need a break though. You let me know how you're doing, alright?"
"I will. Thank you, Ale." You told her earnestly, offering a semi-genuine smile to her.
"Te amo mucho, siempre. Siempre, amor." Alexia whispered when she wrapped you up in her arms.
Then Anaís came steaming back in, her Christmas stocking dragging along behind her unceremoniously, and you giggle when Alexia tells her off for it. The little girl sassed back a reply and Alexia can't help but laugh too, helping her lift it onto the bed. Watching your daughter's face light up with every gift she opens and how she hugs you both tightly after every single one, it's hard to be enveloped by the gloom your mind tried to subdue you into. Anaís was the best gift of all, and if a second child wasn't meant to be, you still had this beautiful girl that made you numb to all the problems life threw at you.
In the midst of this ongoing IVF journey came Alexia's birthday, and to distract yourself from the difficulty of the past few months, you had set yourself and Anaís a project to do as a gift. It was a minor token of appreciation for the woman who had been nothing short of perfect throughout it all, forever there to lean on and pick up the pieces when you need her to.
The day had come for you both to show off what you'd done for her, and though you'd already spent the morning at home with Anaís and Alexia, as well as giving her a few other gifts, this was the part you were most looking forward to. And as you pulled up to the Barcelona training facilities where you would see your hard work for the first time before surprising her, it was safe to say you hadn't felt such excitement in a long while.
"So, frecas, are you ready to surprise Mami?" You smile at Anaís through the rearview mirror of your car just as you pull into a parking space.
"Mamiiii!" Anaís sings from her seat, her little feet swinging excitedly.
"Sí, Mami!" You repeat back, turning off the car before hopping out and walking to Anaís' door. "Vale, mi niña pequeña, what do we have to remember whilst we're here?"
"Be nice, hold your hand, and... smile!"
You laugh at that last one, because you and Alexia never have to remind her to smile as it's something she is always doing anyway. The pair of you love to tell her how happy she makes everyone around her with her cheeky smile, and from then she'd taken it upon herself to do it, somehow, even more often.
"Yes, everybody loves it when you smile." You tap her nose lightly, delighted to hear her giggle. "Do you remember how today is going to go?"
"Tell me?" Anaís asks as you help her out of the car.
"Yep, I can tell you." You reply, taking her hand and leading her to the reception. "We're going to be taken to an office where we can finally see the gift you made for Mami. Then we can give it to her, and maybe if you're up for it, we can have lunch with everybody. Are you excited?"
"Mhm." Anaís mutters quietly, indicating she was feeling a little uncertain about something. When you're away from the car park and outside the main doors, you turn to her and crouch to her height.
"What's up, mi chiqui? Is there something bugging you?" You question softly, taking both of her hands and squeezing them.
"Nervous." She admits, shuffling forward in a silent plea for a hug, which you immediately engage in.
"It's okay to be nervous, isn't it? Mami and I get nervous still and we're old." You joke, hearing her giggle slightly into your shoulder. "What's making you nervous?"
"The people." Anaís tells you, to which you nod understandingly.
"That's alright, thank you for telling me. There might be a lot of people today, most of them you will know though. They're all Mami's friends, aren't they?" She nods shyly when you move back to look at her face. "They are. You just stick with me and Mami when we see her, we've got you. Always. And if you don't want to stay for dinner, let me know and we can go home. Okay?"
"Okay." She smiles brightly up at you, an image you wished you could treasure forever, and you lean forward to kiss her forehead.
"Perfecta, mi amor. Venga!" You take her hand again and press the buzzer to be let into the building. "Do you know what Mami says when she gets nervous?"
"Mami asks for your besitos!" Anaís answers with a grin, catching you off guard. The question was more of a rhetorical one, but you had underestimated your daughter's cheekiness.
"Well, she does, but that's not what I was going to say." You laugh, cheeks red, opening the doors when they unlock. "Mami says that most of the time she doesn't need to feel nervous because the thing she was worrying about is never as bad as she thinks. Do you understand?"
"No." Anaís shrugs bluntly, again making you laugh as you lead her into the reception.
"Okay, chiqui, forget I spoke." You say with a light eye roll, the small girl giggling to herself beside you.
Signing both of you in, you make small talk with the receptionist who hands you two name stickers. Anaís was currently in a phase where she just could not get enough of stickers, so you gasp excitedly for her.
"Pegatina?" She looks up at you with a giddy face, politely snatching the sticker from you and putting it in the center of her sweater.
"Sí!" You smile at her excitement, and an idea comes to mind. You turn back to the receptionist with a plan. "Existe alguna posibilidad de que tengas una hoja extra de pegatinas en blanco? Mi chiqui los adora."
"Claro! Aquí tienes." The lady smiles brightly at you and hands over a sheet of blank stickers. She waves at Anaís, who returns the gesture shyly before you turn to her and show off the item in your hand.
"Mirar, Anaís! More stickers!" Your daughter gasps loudly at the surprise, gazing up at you like you'd just given her the best gift in the world.
"Gracias, Mama!" She squeals, moving to hug your leg tightly.
"No problem, mija. You can draw on them at dinner if you'd like." You say, ducking down to kiss the top of her head. "I'll put them away for now, Mami finishes training soon so we need to go."
With Anaís' hand in yours, you lead her through the building and towards the meeting room you had been informed to go through. Nowadays you were more than familiar with your way around the facilities, having been here numerous times, but you can tell Anaís is still a bit apprehensive. And as a result of yours and Alexia's healthy parenting habits, she didn't hesitate to tell you again.
"Mama, I'm scared." She says, tugging on your hand and coming to a standstill outside the office just as you go to open it.
"Scared about what?" You frown, bending down again and brushing a few wisps of her out of her face.
"Mami will not like her gift."
That broke your heart, because you could already picture Alexia's reaction when she saw what Anaís had done for her. You made a bet with Eli and Alba that she would cry when she received the gift, something they instantly agreed with.
"Anaís, I promise you, Mami will love her present. I know she will, you don't need to worry or be scared. She will really love them. I pinky promise." You hold her hand out for her to link fingers with you, and after a moment of careful consideration, she nods and seals the promise.
"Ready now." She says confidently, so you smile and stand up again.
Knocking twice, you open the door to find a few members of staff there - a few from Barça and a few from the team you'd worked with at Nike. In the middle of the table was the box that contained the surprise, and Anaís' eyes widened so far they almost bugged out of her head.
"There, Mama." She said in a loud whisper, the others in the room smiling brightly at her excitement.
"There they are! Let's go sit down and look at them."
You lead her to the table and sit down in a middle seat, keeping Anaís on your lap. One of the Nike staff talks you through them briefly, giving you an update on the process, and the whole time Anaís bounces giddily. She was getting a little antsy and you figured it was a bit of an odd situation for her to be in; sat in a room with unfamiliar people, one holding a camera to film the day, all whilst the thing she'd been desperate to see for over a month sat waiting in the middle. Somehow she had managed to keep the whole thing a secret, Alexia to your knowledge none the wiser about the whole thing. There were nearly a few slip-ups, but so far so good.
"Okay, that's all I think. You can look at them now."
Anaís grins as you reach for the box and pull it closer, putting it within reach for her to open it.
"Go on, Anaís, you can look."
You watch her face rather than look at the gift at first, your heart clenching at the utter joy and awe on her face as she lifts the lid off of the box. She lets out an adorable gasp, reaching a hand out and delicately picking up one of the things in there.
"Mama... I love them." She states, turning to look at you and showing off the item in her hand.
"They are amazing, aren't they? They came out perfect, wow." You take the other one out from the box, examining it closely. "Mami will adore them."
"When is she coming?" Anaís wonders, and you look up to the Barça staff.
"Training will finish any second now. They'll text when she's on h-" His phone pings as he speaks. "Ah, she is on her way now."
"Great! Anaís, let's put these back in the box so Mami can open it for herself." Anaís nods eagerly and carefully puts them back in, before turning and hugging you unexpectedly. "Hey, what's this for?"
"Mami will love her gift. I know it!" She squeals, pulling back and placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.
"Thank you for that! How lucky I am to have such a kind, cute little girl, huh?" You smile at her, leaning forward to kiss all over her face. She squeals again and hides herself in your shoulder, pressing kisses of her own to your shirt. "Do you remember what to say when Mami walks in?"
"Umm... felicidades?" Anaís says, and you nod proudly.
"Perfect! Bien, mi niña."
No less then five minutes later, you can hear footsteps and a familiar voice coming down the corridor.
"-are you making me do media without showering? It was hot today, I'm all swe-"
Alexia cuts herself when she opens the door to see you and Anaís there. It's a far better surprise than media.
"What are you two doing here?" She asks with a huge smile on her face, frozen in place at the door.
"Say it, Anaís." You whispered in your daughter's ear.
"Felicidades, Mami." Anaís says shyly, and Alexia bounds over to her to pick her up and hug her tightly.
"Thank you, princesa! What a lovely surprise!" She exclaims, looking over at you for a bit of context.
"We have a better surprise for you. Come sit down." You tell her, patting the chair next to you.
Everyone else in the room stands back and watches, and Alexia takes her seat with Anaís curled into her side. With a quick kiss to her forehead, she gestures to the box in front of her.
"This?" She wonders, and before you could get a word in, Anaís pipes up.
"Open it, Mami! It is the best gift ever!" She urges, patting her leg to try and hurry her up.
"Alright, alright. Cheeky." Alexia tuts jokingly, reaching around Anaís to flick the lid open. Her jaw drops when she looks inside, and of all things in the world, she wasn't expecting them.
Inside, were two completely customised football boots, designed by Anaís with help from you and a team at Nike.
The design of the boots were fairly similar, except for a few tiny details that were special to each one. They were mainly white, and on each toe end of the boots were Anaís' hand prints in the blaugrana colours. Under the Nike tick on the outside of each boot were Anaís' initials with a penguin beside them. Additionally, under the logo on the inside of the boots were the words 'Vamos Mami' written in Anaís' squiggly handwriting. Every single detail, from the heartwarmingly poor stick figure drawing of Alexia on the back of the boots with the words 'My Hero' beside them, to the one of Alexia's favourite flowers and the other little contextual family inclusions, sent her into an emotional frenzy.
They were obviously majoritively designed by a small child, Anaís, but that was what made them so very special to Alexia. To her, they were probably the best gift she could've received purely based off of the sentimental value of them, and she had had tears in her eyes the moment she saw them.
"Anaís... wow." Alexia choked out, hastily wiping away one that slipped out. "You made these?"
"I did! Me and Mama!" Anaís claimed proudly, grinning up at Alexia and helping her to brush her tears away. But the sight of her crying confused her, and her smile quickly turned into a frown. "Oh. Not happy?"
"No, no, I'm so happy, Anaís, so happy. I love them so much that I'm crying, how silly?" Anaís giggled at her Mami, and the whole thing to you was ineffably adorable. "Oh wow. I really love them."
"Can you wear them for your games?" Anaís wonders.
"Well, I will, but only for my most important games. I don't want to ruin them and get them all muddy."
"We have a replica pair at home so you don't need to worry about that." You tell her, and she reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it gratefully.
"Thank you both. You really thought of everything." She shakes her head and sighs shakily, unable to tear her eyes away from them. "Anaís, is this a picture of me?"
Anaís giggles and nods as Alexia points to the stick figure of herself.
"I drawed it." Anaís says, and you stifle a laugh at the ridiculousness of the drawing. It is definitely easy to figure out it's done by an almost 3 year old.
"These are the best present I've ever got." It's then that she notices even the shoelaces are customised; red and blue hearts drawn by Anaís are patterned up and down the laces, and even the aglets of them have Anaís' name written there. "You both really thought of everything."
"We did our best." You affirm, leaning into her side when she holds her arm out. The arm of the chairs make it a little uncomfortable, but it doesn't take away from the moment.
"Tengo la mejor familia, eh?" Alexia whispers, kissing Anaís' forehead again, then your cheek. "Mis amores, are you staying for lunch?"
"Anaís was a little bit nervous about that earlier." You reveal, and the little girl nods sheepishly.
"Hey, that's okay! You can stay with me and Mama if you need to, everybody just loves seeing you smile, mi sol pequeña." Alexia says to Anaís, and the girl follows through immediately with her big, cheesy smile. "Exactly like that. Shall we go now? I'm hungry and I want to show off my amazing gift to everybody."
After that, the three of you make your way round to the cafeteria. Anaís sits on your lap throughout, eating a bowl of her favourite meal, tomato pasta, before drawing personalised name stickers for everyone she knows. Her tiny mind gets blown away when she finds out Mapi's last name means lion, so she of course has to sit with her for the rest of dinner to discuss such an outrageous topic. It gives you and Alexia a moment alone after it all, and she shuffles your chair closer so that she can whisper endless amount of soft words to you. She can't believe her fortune at having two people do such an act of kindness for her, and she makes sure the two of you know it.
The only thing is, those one of a kind boots aren't the sole surprise of the day. And the next one shocks you too.
Later that evening, as Alexia is in Anaís' room reading her a bedtime story and you do your skincare in the ensuite, something catches your eye in the back corner of the cupboard when you go to get your cleanser. It's a box you haven't paid any mind to since the first round of IVF for the second baby, as it had unfairly gotten your hopes up. But now it piques your interest too much, and whilst Alexia is busy elsewhere, you decide to do it.
You're not expecting anything, having been let down too many times, and that's why you scream so loud.
"Oh my fucking god!"
About half a millisecond later, Alexia comes running in with a disgruntled and half-asleep Anaís in her arms.
"What's wrong!?" She asks desperately, noticing your trembling shoulders as you faced away from her and your teary eyes in the mirror.
Slowly, you turn around, another hCG test in you hand.
"This s-says twenty-six, Ale." You stutter, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth.
The pair of you stare at each other in disbelief, eyes wide and jaws to the floor. You're probably an image to behold, with two under-eye masks on and spot cream dotted around your face, and Anaís in Alexia's hold looks less than pleased at the events that have occurred with her wild bed-head.
"It says what?!" Alexia cries out, breaking the stand-off and coming over to you so she can catch a look at it. "It does say twenty-six!"
"Ale..." You breathe out, looking up into her eyes and shaking your head. "I'm not falling for this again."
"Amor, don't start stressing. Let's take this as a good thing for now, and we will go to our appointment tomorrow like normal. Okay? Don't stress, please, this is a very good sign." Alexia reasurres you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. Anaís still has no clue what's going on, but she sleepily puts an arm around your neck too, always one for a family hug.
"Last time though, it gave us a good score and it ended up being nothing." You sighed, closing your eyes in her hold.
"But last time wasn't as high as this. This is much better, this is an amazing sign. The only thing we can do is wait to see the nurse tomorrow, okay?" You nod reluctantly, sighing in frustration and pulling away. "Is it alright if I go put Anaís to sleep? Or do you want her to stay with us for a bit?"
You look at your daughter in Alexia's arms and instantly make a decision; you could never deny cuddles with her.
"Take her to bed with us."
For a little while, the three of you cuddle closely together in your bed, a film of Anaís' choice playing on TV even though she had fallen asleep less than ten minutes into it. Once it had finished, Alexia went to put her in her own bed before coming straight back to you. You try to settle into sleep, but it evades you due to your clouded mind, and Alexia notices. She spends an unknown amount of time reasurring you, also talking about everything and nothing to sooth you, until you eventually do fall asleep. It takes a while for her to get to sleep too, but she does with a smile on her face.
And she was right to have that smile, because the next day at your already scheduled blood test with the nurse, it's confirmed that you are pregnant. The relief is overwhelming, because it's not just the fact that you are finally pregnant, it also erases all the doubt and guilt and whatnot from the past eight months, finally clearing your head from it all. It's a huge weight off of your shoulders, and an almost equally large on off of Alexia's because the heartbreak she felt everytime, not only when a transfer failed, but when you loathed yourself after each one was so heavy, it nearly broke her in two. But here you were, healthy and happier than ever with a baby growing and a smile on your face.
Being able to tell family and friends a little while after was an incredible experience, somehow even better than telling them about Anaís, because they all knew the struggles of the past months and how difficult it had been for you and Alexia. Your favourite part though was telling Anaís, even if it was a little anti-climatic, because she simply shrugged and said 'about time' before asking to go to the park.
There was one little worry. Not a problem with your health or the baby, but with Anaís. Because she was so excited about having a sibling, except she often would say...
"It better not be a boy." She would huff grumpily, and she would say it unprompted too whilst doing things like drawing a family picture and adding a baby to the tummy of your stick figure or as she played with her dolls.
And it was certainly a worry because the baby did end up being a boy. It was yours and Alexia's plan to tell Anaís the gender on her birthday, but after finding out it was a boy, that didn't seem like such a great plan. Out of fear of possibly ruining her birthday, you told her the day after, and it went much better than you expected.
"Will he play dolls with me? And like stickers? And like drawing?" She had asked after a few moments of silence.
"He probably will, yes." You responded.
"He might even like football too." Alexia grinned, and Anaís easily matched her with a cheeky smile of her own as you rolled your eyes.
"I guess that's okay then."
As you months rolled on and you moved from trimester to trimester, Anaís fell more and more in love with her little brother. She loved talking about him, as well as talking to him whenever she was given a chance, her hands moving around your bump to feel his little kicks. With each one-sided conversation she had, she would end it with a kiss and a whisper of 'hurry up, chico!'
Your hormones had kicked in a little stronger this pregnancy, because every time Anaís would interact with your bump, your reaction would range from a lump in your throat, to full on tears. Alexia loved it, teasing you every so often, but she quickly figured out her limits after your tears of joy at Anaís soon turned into tears of pain when the baby dealt you a hard kick to the ribs. The Spaniard's face immediately paled when you screamed at her so furiously, it sent Anaís running for the hills through the house. Thankfully, the next day, the little girl forgot all about the night's events, until one day a while later she brought it up in front of her Tía Alba, and your face turned red with embarrassment.
Your little boy decided to bring himself into the world a tad early in September that year, with a bit of a longer labour and more complicated birth. But, in the end, her arrived safely and healthily, and the same went for you. Alexia had sat there, biting her nails anxiously as the doctors did their checks, but they ultimately gave you the all-clear and the nausea left her stomach.
"We still don't have a name." You huffed tiredly when Alexia took him from one of the nurses and brought him over to you.
"That's okay. We will figure it out. For now, just look at his cute face." Alexia smiled brightly, sitting beside you carefully and showing him off.
"He is cute." You sighed contently, resting your head on her shoulder. This birth had thoroughly taken it out of you, and it was a miracle you were able to keep your eyes open.
"He is chubby." Alexia hummed, and she winced when you lightly slapped her hip.
"Be nice to him." You scolded her, but Alexia was just glad to see the smile on your face that you failed to fight back.
"I am being nice, he just has very big cheeks." Alexia defended herself, raising a hand to lightly run the back of her finger along his cheek, a gesture you remember her doing for Anaís.
He was clearly much more fed up with the day then Anaís was when she was born, because he was already fast asleep. His little mouth was open, and sometimes when he fidgeted in his sleep, his tongue would poke out momentarily. Alexia laughed quietly whenever he did as you watched them both, already absolutely infatuated with the sight.
"I can't wait for Anaís to meet him." Alexia stated, and you nodded in agreement. "Can we ring her? Or do you want to rest some more?"
"No, let's ring her. I miss her."
For obvious reasons, it had been over a day since you'd last seen Anaís, the longest you'd gone without being with her. Alexia passed your son over to you and got her phone out of her pocket, going onto it and getting up her Mami's contact.
"You're sure?" She checked, and you nodded.
Within three rings, Eli answered the FaceTime call, and before she could even speak, Anaís' face took over the whole screen.
"Is he here yet, Mami?" She asked quietly, and Alexia couldn't resist.
"No, not yet, I'm sorry chiqui."
"Ale! Don't be mean, tell her."
As soon as Anaís heard your voice, she gasped excitedly, hoping she had correctly interpreted your words.
"He is here?"
"He is. There he is." Alexia turned the camera so that you and the baby were in view for Anaís to see, and her face was adorable.
"Oh my... he is so cute." She whispered, noticing he was asleep and speaking as quietly as she could. "I love him."
"You do?" Alexia said, her heart filled with more love than she ever thought possible.
"I really love him." Anaís smiled brightly. "Is Mama okay?"
"Yes, I'm okay, thank you mi niña. I am very, very tired, but I'm alright." You told her, and she nodded, glad to hear it.
"Does he have a name?" You shook your head and saw her eyes light up. "I have a name!"
"Go on." Alexia prompted her, not really expecting anything that could be a good suggestion.
"Oriol!" Anaís said proudly.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, wondering where on earth she got that from, but happy with it nonetheless. It was already on the name list you and Alexia had, and it was actually one of your favourites. But the pair of you just couldn't choose, so you decided to shortlist a few and to wait and see until he is born. Oriol was indeed a name on the shortlist.
"Yes, that is a good name." You nodded, looking at Alexia to see what she thought.
"I really like that name, well done chiqui." Alexia replied, and the pair of you share a glance.
Speaking with Anaís for a little longer, you both notice her getting progressively more tired as it got closer to her bedtime. With the promise that she can visit tomorrow, you say goodbye to her and let her take one final look at her brother before she goes to the room she was staying in at Eli's. You stay on the phone with Eli for a few moments, smiling at all the praise she offers you, before she bids you both farewell and hangs up.
"So..." Alexia started, looking down at your son. "I think we have a solution to our problem?"
You look down at him too, knowing what Alexia was talking about, and nod.
"I think we do."
When Anaís visits the next day, she hugs you and Alexia tightly first, having missed her two favourite people in the world for the short time she was away. Then, Alexia gets the baby out of the hospital cot and shows him to her, and she's fascinated by him. She quickly has a moment of overwhelming excitement, and she jumps around on the spot away from him so that she can, in her own words, 'get it all out' before she holds him.
Sitting on the chair beside your bed, pillows scattered around her, Alexia carefully places him in her arms that hold him securely. Unsurprising to you, you immediately well up at the sight, wanting to burn the image into your mind forever. She makes sure she holds him properly, asking Alexia every so often if she's doing it right, before she leans down and kisses his hat-covered head softly. Alexia shows her a special 'trick', where she offers her finger out to the baby and Anaís gasps quietly when he wraps his hand around Alexia's finger. The moment only forces more tears out of you, and Alexia looks up at you and flashes you a teasing smile. Her attention is drawn away from you not a second later when Anaís asks something.
"Does he have a name yet?"
Just like last night, you and Alexia share a glance, before you turn back to Anaís.
"His name is Oriol."
#alexia putellas x reader#woso x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas one shot#alexia putellas imagine#woso fic#woso imagine#woso#woso community
418 notes
·
View notes
Note
lemon poppy seed cake for me, please! Post prison Spencer and shy!reader who gets so nervous around him that they become the clumsiest person ever
You don’t mean to be a clutz, but it happens every time Spencer is around. He just happens to witness your worst moments and it makes you want to avoid him.
Your most recent clumsy moment while Spencer was around, was you rushing to the ME’s office and slipping on something on the bottom of your shoe and almost hitting your head right into the door jam.
Spencer catches your arm before you can, steadying you with a concerned look. “You’re going to end up needing stitches if you’re not careful.” he murmurs, you shake your head.
“I’m careful, you just always witness my clumsiest moments.” your voice is soft and you can’t bring yourself to meet Spencer’s eyes. They’re too brown, warm and kind and it makes you feel like your entire body is a live wire that will result in your combustion. It’s made even worse when he trails his hand from your upper arm to your wrist. Spencer must know what all this closeness does to you.
He hides a smile, stroking his thumb over your inner wrist. “C’mon, let’s go see what the ME has.” The little shit doesn’t drop your hand and you both walk at a much slower pace than you’d been going at before.
#spencerreid#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#inkdrinker'sblurbday
384 notes
·
View notes
Note
How does each of the main aeiwam cast react to spiders?
Ichigo: "...Why's my leg itchyyYEAUGH! DAMMIT!" *scoops spider up in piece of paper, opens window and throws it out* "OUTSIDE! SHOO! I hate it when they sneak up and on me...
Orihime: Had an intense close personal friendship with a Joro Spider that had made it's web on her apartment balcony when she was six. It's death at the end of summer was her first real experience with mortal loss, and she mourned it for weeks. She still recalls "Joro-San" fondly.
Uryuu: Secretly dreams of Spiders large enough to spin actual ropes of silk- the stuff is a marvel of chemical engineering, and would be incredibly useful to him as a Doctor or Fashion Designer. He feels like the difficulty of harvesting Spidersilk is the main thing holding back a Golden age of Humanity, and is disturbed to find out he shares ANY opinion with Mayuri Kurotsuichi.
Tatsuki: Paralyticly Phobic of spiders. Understands and appreciates their importance in the ecosystem, knows they can't hurt her and that the phobia is an irrational reflex, and even thinks some of them 'look cool as hell'. The second there's a live one in her presence, she locks up and can't move until someone removes it. (Usually Ichigo, because Orihime will just stare at it, fascinated).
Chad: Has a Pet Kitchen Spider. thought about shooing flies in it's direction, then felt bad for the flies.
Kon: Is a cat, hunts them, and will have nuanced discussions about how different spiders taste with Yuzu, the one person who will tolerate that analysis.
Keigo: Screams theatrically and jumps away and into someone's arms if they're there, but that's just how he reacts to anything that startles him.
Mizuiro: Fascinated by them, will stare at them with Orihime and tell her fun facts about Joro-Gumo Yokai and other lore, which delights her to no end.
Yoruichi: Like Kon, enjoys toying with them before eating them.
Urahara: Curled into the farthest corner, screaming, crying, throwing up, and begging Yoruichi to STOP FUCKING AROUND AND GET RID OF IT!
Rukia: *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling on top of her hair* "...what Spider?"
(Seireitei Squad Under The Cut)
Yamamoto: Utterly fails to notice or care. There are so many things he's seen that are so much worse, and honestly? Even when he was a young man he didn't give a shit. He slept rough delivering messages, waking up in the dirt with half a dozen bugs on him was normal.
Sasakibe: Thinks they're delightful. So many elegant designs! Such perfect sense of when to strike! Such patience! He finds out about Diving Spiders and goes Ape Shit. THEY MAKE THEIR ON SCUBA TANKS!!
Soi Fon: Spiders are cool but not as cool as wasps and hornets :)
Omaeda: Also has a Pet Kitchen Spider, but does not feel bad about shooing flies into it's web at all.
Gin: Isn't actually sure what spiders are, or if they're even real. He's seeing sixteen dimensions at once, something that minuscule gets lost in the noise. Still thinks that someone Screaming "SPIDER!" and everyone flailing around in fear or suddenly attacking the walls and furniture is a social game like "The Floor Is Lava"
Rose: Thinks they're cool right up until they're in his personal space and then they are VERY SCARY.
Izuru: Was the designated spider-wrangler for the third from the first day he transferred in, because everyone else is a huge bitch about them. he plays it cool, but he's actually creeped out by the really big ones.
Unohana: Spiders are garden Friends :) often heard verbally encouraging them to destroy her garden pests with calls of "GET HIS ASS!" coming from the Hydrangeas.
Isane: Everyone is sort of surprised how chill Isane is about dealing with spiders- even Yamada's Actually Dangerous Specimens- and she shrugs and tells them that she deals with more dangerous things every day, especially over in Pharmacology. It keeps the focus off the Bug she's actually terrified of: Butterflies.
Hanataro: Do Not Ask The Head Of Toxicology And 11th Division Pocket Medic About Spiders Unless You Are Prepared For A Seven-Hour Lecture With A Pop Quiz At The End.
Aizen: HUGE fan of Spiders. What splendid creatures- look at how carefully the spider selects the anchor points of it's web, the skillfulness with which it weaves. Such incredible patience, waiting for the lines of tension it's woven to snare it's game- though I suppose such patience is easier when the fly's capture is inevitable >:)
Shinji and Hiyori: *Screaming and flailing, hitting things at random (mostly each other) in a blind panic, because they share a braincell and that cell is TERRIFIED of spiders* "It's so fast!" "It was huge! It had to be a tarantula!" "We should burn the division down, just to be sure."
Momo: Escorted the little garden spider outside in a cup like ten minutes ago, and forgot about it because that's such a routine chore, and she was having a more important phone call at the time.
Byakuya: Rarely notices spiders, but sometimes one will scuttle across his desk and he'll stop to watch it for the seven minutes it takes to actually cross his desk with a neutral expression, before resuming whatever he was doing. It's a pleasant diversion for him, not unlike watching the koi fish swim around in the compound pond, and he resumes his duties feeling spiritually refreshed by that chance encounter with nature.
Renji: Not bothered by Spiders. VERY Bothered by his Boss's fucking peculiar-ass reaction to a spider wandering across his desk because to Renji, it looked like Byakuya had never actually seen a spider before and was staring at it with an expression that indicated his higher brain functions had ceased entirely. Is currently making plans to study "The Captain Kuchiki Spider Brain Glitch" by catching a bunch of spiders in a jar and releasing them into his office to see what happens.
Komamura: He's particularly fond of Jumping spiders, because they sing little songs while hunting that he can hear if it's really quiet. They're very cute. Gets very upset when people kill spiders or talk about killing them.
Iba: Not afraid of spiders but doesn't know what to do when they're in his way. Killed one in front of Komamura once when he was a little kid and Komamura was still his babysitter, Sajin gave him a huge and very upset lecture about respecting life in all it's forms... but did not actually teach Iba how to remove them. So every time he sees one he sorta stands there for a minute and hopes it will move, before yelling "BOSS!"
Shunsui: Does not want to admit how much Spiders freak him out. It's not fear, precisely- more of a disgust reaction. All bugs make his skin crawl and he understands how important they are, but can they do all that ecology stuff Far Away From Him, Please And Thank You?
Nanao: Like Unohana, reveres spiders as pest control. She takes it a step further, and actively collects Jumping Spider egg sacs as she finds them in the archives and tends to them over winter so when early spring comes, she can release several hundred thousand spiderlings into the archives to destroy the mites, bookworms, moth larvae and other archive pests before they can get a foothold. She usually does this while dumping out the entire terrarium and cackling manically.
Lisa: Immediately joins in on Nanao's Spider Propagation Project, much to Shunsui's horror.
Tousen: If there is a sudden shriek and burst of profanities and hexes in the ninth division, 90% chance it's because Kaname walked into a spider web again, his LEAST favorite texture in the Universe. Yes, including the curse nails. He'd keep them in his spine if it meant he'd never walk into another spiderweb.
Kensei: Often cracked open a beer while watching the evening news during his exile in the living world. Sometimes it was several beers, or something stronger if he'd had a rough day. One night, it was a bottle of Fireball as he watched the news, and felt too intoxicated to change the channel from the newshour, so he kept watching when PBS Nature came on, and damn near pissed himself laughing when he saw the Peacock Spider's Mating Dance. Full on Howling, tears streaming down his face, barely able to breathe, Pterodactyl-noises laughing. Nothing has been funnier before or since to him, so now whenever he sees a spider he starts guffawing and stop to explain WHY.
Shuuhei: Deeply confused by the fact spiders keep coming indoors. "Why are you all here?" he asks, doing a cobweb patrol with the broom before his boss gets back from the inter-division meeting. "What are you eating? Crumbs? Lint? Is it Lint you eat?"
Mashiro: Has a grasshopper-type Zanpakuto who is not a fan, so she attempts to destroy any spider she sees in solidarity. Usually misses and destroys something else.
Matsumoto: Spiders are cool, but not as cool as snakes :)
Hitsugaya: Grew up on a farm, and shares Momo's total non-reactivity to them. It's even deeper, because his constant ambient chill means spiders never climb on him if they can't help it.
Zaraki: Used to agitate Yumichika and Ikkaku by eating them. Now he agitates them by wandering off the trail during 11th Division Boot Camp or other deployments and coming back with extremely dangerous ones and handing them to Hanataro "fer yer collection". The 11th Division's Pocket Medic has explained toxicology at length to him, and now Zaraki thinks of various medicines as "Spider Pills" and "Scorpion Juice".
Yachiru: Still eats spiders. She's the sole exception to the Wrath of Komamura, because there is no malice or fear in her actions- it's perfectly natural and morally upstanding Carnivory. The rest of you are being irrational and jerks.
Ikkaku: Sometimes regrets his life choices when he sees the freak he's sworn loyalty to walk out of the trees with something venomous enough to kill half the gotei-13 with a single bite crawling over his face, then realizes that's FUCKING BADASS and is assured that he made the right choices.
Yumichika: *currently sneaking up behind Ikkaku with a fake spider on a string to affectionately terrorize him*
Mayuri: Unlike Uuryu, Mayuri isn't a Weenie, and he's making his dreams of Milkable Spiders the Size of Cattle a reality.
Nemu: Helping with that. This one is hers. She named it #47, after it's designation, Specimen Number 47.
Ukitake, *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling across his forehead* "...There's a spider in here?"
#Bleach#bleach fanfiction#AEIWAM#an elephant is warm and mushy#Spiders#some people are more chill than others#and some are straight up failing perception checks
256 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.
𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐁𝐒𝐅! 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐛𝐬𝐟
prompt by this request: "chris getting jealous bc his bsf seems flirty with matt so he confesses his feelings and it ends with smuttttt”
contains: HELLA SMUTTT, Chris confessing his feelings, mad jealous Chris, dom!chris, suggestive, “flirting” w Matt??, Chris and yours first kiss, choking, spanking, degrading names (slut, whore yktv), MUCH dumification, use of pet names (mama, baby, sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl ), stomach bulge!, flashbacks of Chris fantasizing about you, overstimulation, cream pie, squirting, Chris having a massive cock obviously, missionary, slight m!oral, aftercare as always!! Heavy ( bath tg, praising, concerned!chris reassurance
a/n- this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so here it is
For years, since we were kids. I’ve always had a huge crush on my bestfriend.
I couldn’t get over her no matter how hard I tried and it grew more and more especially since she lives in LA now and we see her almost everyday.
It got worse. So bad. I needed her
I remember seeing her in an orange bikini complimenting her gorgeous features. The way the bottoms hugged her curves making her ass pop out was enough to make me finish in my pants.
She was gorgeous, I wanted to have her badly but it was Nearly impossible fo get her alone.
Especially with Matt around. It pissed me off when I’d see them laughing together or making tiktoks.
That’s my girl
I remember sitting in my room scrolling on instagram when I got the notification she posted on her story
Fuck she looked so good.
the way the grey shorts hugged her ass just how I liked, she looked so gorgeous too.
I, unintentionally started palming myself through my sweats.
I couldn’t help it she had such an affect on me.
I pulled my sweats down revealing my boxers with a wet spot where my tip was.
“Shit”. I groan pulling them down fully as my dick slapped against my stomach begging to be touched, wishing it was her hand and not mine.
I began to stroke myself with shaky hands imagining it was her lips wrapped around me and I throw my head back against the pillows as my mind wandered
She was irresistible, I had to have her.
We always had a flirty thing going on and I didn’t think it would get this far.
Until…
Today was on of those days where I was in the kitchen leaning on the counter drinking a Pepsi pretending to watch TV as I listen to her faint giggles as her and my fucking brother watched TV.
I felt my hand tighten around the can as I saw how close they were, knowing he didn’t like her but I didn’t care. I wanted her all too myself.
I sighed throwing my can out coming up with an idea to figure out a way to get her for me.
Matt and nick going to get food.
“hey Matt, wanna go get some food? Y/n likes this Chinese place it’s about an hour away, nick prob wants to go”. I say smiling with a cocky grin and he rolls his eyes.
“Okay fine I’ll be back in like 4 fucking hours nick let’s go!”. Matt tells and Nick comes downstairs.
“Y/n, you’re so lucky we love you”. Nick says sarcastically and they walk out the house but fuck something about the way Matt looked at her before he left just made me more pissed off.
“Chris?”. I stand up adjusting my shorts as the grey material rolled up my ass and my tank top hugged around my tits the watching Chris’s eyes wander.
“What the fuck are you trying to do to me”. Chris mutters into my ear, his hand wrapping around my neck and my breath hitches.
“W-what are you talking about?”. I shudder as his blue eyes pour into mine with an unhappy expression giving me a pity laugh.
“Flirting with my brother in front of me? Seriously?! Is it not obvious how much I want you?”. Chris confessed his nose touching mine making me gulp, my thighs closing together accidentally.
There was no doubt Chris was attractive but hell if I knew he liked me shit I’d probably let him fuck me or something.
“You? Want me?” I said slightly confused and utterly shocked and he takes a deep breath.
“you have no fucking idea how much I want you, and I have no problem showing him that your my girl”. Chris gave me a sly smile picking me up by my ass carrying me downstairs to his room.
“C-Chris wait-“. I was cut off by him kissing me and I melt into his touch. His hands grip my ass tighter making me gasp, his tongue massaging mine as I moan into the kiss.
“Strip”. He demands standing me up and I tilt my head. And he gives me those eyes and immediately comply beginning to peal of my clothes leaving me in a matching set of orange. Chris’s favourite colour.
“Fuck ma you look so pretty..all for me right?” He asks his hands playing with my bra strap making my panties dampen.
“Yes Chris- all for you”. I match his gaze and he smirked pushing me on the bed as I scooted back leaving him room to climb above me.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you”. Chris leaves a soft kiss to my cheek practically ripping my panties off me and I squirm.
“Chris! I liked those!”. I whine and he rolls his eyes pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one movement and his thick, and painfully hard cock springs out hitting his stomach and my heart beat picks up
how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside me?
Chris took in my nervous expression and let out a soft laugh placing his hands on my thighs
“Spread ur legs for me”. He taps my legs and I spread them apart revealing my wet pussy, the arousal glistening on my inner thighs.
he runs a finger along my slit and I jolt slightly at the sudden sensation.
“shit- ur so wet, did i make you like this? Or was it my brother”. Chris asked tilting his head, his jawn clenched ans my breath hitched as he continued moving his finger.
“No answer? Guess I’ll fuck the answer out of you”. Chris pressed my legs against my chest before slamming his cock deep inside me, stretching me out painfully I almost couldn’t take it.
“f-fuck Chris! T-too much!”. I stutter trying to push his hand away but he quickly slaps it away, using my legs as leverage to begin pounding my inside me.
Chris didn’t give me time to adjust to his large size, tears already forming on my eyes from the pleasure.
“shit- your pussy feels so good, better than I’ve imagined”. He let out a deep groan watching how my pussy sucked him in, Chris’s hips driving into mine as I squint my eyes shut.
“Already becoming a mess on my cock? Should’ve kept matt here so he could see how much of slut you are for me”. Chris grips my neck angling his hips to thrust deeper and I squeal, my eyes meeting with his blues, an electric feeling shooting through me.
He wouldn’t let up his pace, his cock plunging into my tight hole as the pain turned to pleasure thankfully as my cunt morphed to fit his dick.
And Chris was fucking right, I was a slut for him and I has tried to hide it this whole time by being innocent and flirtatious with his brother but the second I was underneath him, I was begging for him to touch me
“Oh shitt- d-don’t stop- fuck”. I throw my head back on the soft pillows, moaning curses breathlessly, my tits bouncing with his quick and hard movements, bound to leave bruises between my thighs burning with sensation.
“mmph fuck- wasn’t planning on it pretty girl”. He moaned, completely infatuated with how I wrapped around him perfectly, like I was made for him. And shit- was he made for me.
She felt so good, almost as if her pussy and every thing about her was made for me.
I couldn’t get enough of her, the Moans and squeaks of my name leaving her swollen lips could’ve made me cum on the spot.
the way she could barley form a sentence as I fucked her, and I wasn’t even close to being done with her yet.
I was going to make sure she knew that she was mine, my fucking girl.
“Chris-you feel so good”. She moaned my name again, turning me on much more than it should’ve, the way her eyes barely opened, and how she’d bite her and stare at me grasping her breasts.
“yeah? you like when I fuck you dumb like this? Can’t even get a word out?”. I taunt, I gripped her neck tighter, her legs finding their way up on my shoulders crying out my name like it’s the only one she knew.
I couldn’t even answer, the things he were asking me required my full attention and shit- I was so far gone.
“I suggest you answer me ma because your about to to cum”. Chris presses his chest on mine, our noses touching as he breathed heavily into my mouth while I reciprocated the same action.
“mm-m I-fuck I-i love it”. I shudder on each word, praying he heard me because I really could not talk right now. I squeezed my eyes shut and he chuckled seeing how speechless he fucked.
“God I could listen to you like this all day”. Chris grunted into my ear as I felt the stomach coil I had began to burst unexpectedly from the overwhelming pleasure.
Chris made me squirt
“S-shit! I’m sorry I-“. I shook as the fluids made a mess over his lower stomach but gasping as he didn’t slow down.
“Never apologize that was hot as fuck- got one more in you?”. He pants resting his head on my shoulder quickening his pace and I whimper gripping his back.
“Oh god Chris- I-I can’t”. My nails run down his back making marks and he bites his bottom lip as I pulled him closer.
His hips pushing into mine, as my juices had coated his cock, leaking out of me creating a wet sensation of our sex.
“You can take it baby, being such a good girl, fuck just one more”. He let out a shaky moan throwing a my leg around his waist and I let out a loud moan at the angle Chris’s cock hit, brushing my g-spot.
“C-Chris ur so deep-“. I let out pornographic sounds and he gave me a deep kiss before pressing his hand where his dick was poking through.
his hand pressed down on the bulge in my stomach and I felt the tears run down my face from the overwhelming pleasure.
“that’s all me baby- fuck I love ur pussy so much-“. He stutters throwing his head as hair sticks to his forehead, the sight was more than appealing.
His slightly parted lips producing whimpers, curses and moans of my name. The way he squeezed my hips making sure I could feel every thick inch of him and the sweat coating over his body.
Her lips parted releasing pants and moans of my name and the occasional “fuck”, her hair now sweated out with hickeys along her neck and tits reminding her that she was mine now. The way her nails would grip my back drawing marks that showed how much she enjoyed it.
“Oh shit- ma- can I cum inside you? M’need you so bad-“. He moans into my neck and I shiver and chant yes’s.
Chris released his seed inside me triggering a second hard orgasm for me, creaming his dick as my body shook.
I turned my head to lay on the pillow before he could catch a glimpse of me, slowly sliding his cock out of me.
He took one look at me and his eyes immediately shifted to one of concern
“wait wait shit- did I hurt you?”. Chris started, seeing how my legs shook from the orgasm I just had.
“please talk to me”. He cupped my cheeks and I gave him a soft smile.
“I’m fine Chris that was- shit- the best sex I’ve ever had”. I let out a quiet sigh and a smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled me into a bridal style hold.
“Well come on let’s get you cleaned up, I wanna spend time with my girl”. He giggled like a child and I rolled my eyes as he carried me into the bathroom running a warm bath for both of us
“No seriously tho your okay?”. He said softly rubbing my shoulders as we soaked in the warm tub.
“Chris the way you put that dick on me I’m more than ok”. I kissed his cheek and his cheeks flushed a bit as he leaned back against the tub whilst I’m in his arms.
She’s really my girl.
@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vanteguccir @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris
381 notes
·
View notes
Note
Happy Birthday!!! 🎂🎂🎂 Can I have a Merlin prompt? 🎂🎂🎂
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5
Merlin manages to avoid the arrival of Nimueh and her kidnapped apprentice and it’s not even suspicious at all because everyone is avoiding them, and Tristan, because of the huge fight they had about the actual legitimate kidnapping of an unwed, barely of age lady from a neighboring kingdom.
“Does it count as kidnapping if they go along willingly?” Elyan asks, standing above Merlin while he polishes his armor and being no help at all despite being the son of a blacksmith.
He shrugs. “How would I know?”
That gets him a snort of laughter and a slap on the back that only has him stumbling a little bit. If nothing else, his time as Arthur’s servant running around doing chores, and usually running after Arthur and Elyan and their newest terrible idea, has made it so he sort of has muscles now. Access to the castle’s kitchens certainly hasn’t hurt either.
He feels sort of guilty about it. Sure, he’s barely earning any wages himself since it’s mostly going to Ealdor’s debt, but they’re out there working hard to irrigate the land and fix up the village and he’s eating well and sleeping in the nicest room he probably ever will, and sure, he’s working, but he also spends a lot of time just hanging out with Arther and Elyan.
“She’s pretty alright actually, for a noble,” he continues. He hasn’t been going to nearly the lengths Merlin has to avoid her. “Especially for one that grew up in Camelot.”
“You grew up in Camelot,” Merlin says.
For a moment Elyan looks a strange cross between forlorn and wistful. “Yeah, but me and my dad and my sister are just commoners. It wasn’t so bad for us, after the queen died and the prince went missing, but the nobles got it the worst. The king had never been the most comprising of men, but he really became something else after all that. I assume that’s why the de Bois left.”
Merlin startles. “The de Bois are from Camelot? They said that this was their grandfather’s castle!”
Elyan blinks at him. “What? Of course they are! And this was his castle, it’s just that familial relations broke down,” sometimes Elyan says things that make it so clear he spends too much time with Arthur, “and so their father’s was in Camelot. Is in Camelot, and still abandoned because no lord is willing to take up there and risk the king’s ire.”
“Why would the king care if someone else lived there?” he asks.
“Well, he took his brothers-in-law fleeing his kingdom a little personally, Merlin,” he says, rolling his eyes.
Wait. Wait – “Their sister was the queen of Camelot!?”
Elyan stares at him for a long moment then reaches out to rap his knuckles on the side of Merlin’s head. “What kind of schooling does that village have over there? I’ll tell Arthur to add it to the list.”
Better schooling wouldn’t be a bad thing, but, “I know her name was Ygraine! Ygraine Pendragon. No one told me her maiden name was du Bois!”
“Well,” Elyan says, looking uncertain, “maybe they just didn’t want it spread around. It’s not like they left under the best of circumstances. But I’m from the city proper, and everyone knows about the queen’s family there.”
“Right,” he says faintly.
How do things just keep getting worse?
He’s serving the king of Camelot’s nephew!
255 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Man Has Needs - Part 2
First | Masterpost
DP x DC
Ship: Dead on Main
Summary:
In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.
Part 2
Danny awoke Wednesday morning to the second coming of his human shaped bedmate. Of course with the terrible shape the guy’s core was in he hadn’t expected the first time to be the last time.
He sighed and rested his forehead on the warm bare chest right in front of him, closing his eyes again. Despite the dumpster smell, Danny was really freaking comfortable in the guy’s arms, pressed skin to skin, enveloped in his larger frame. Sighing again he slipped intangibly out of the hold. It was one thing to cuddle incidentally while sleeping, entirely another to continue while he was awake.
The guy was here because he was starving.
Danny cast a longing gaze over his shoulder - was it so wrong to long for someone who’d hold him like that just to hold him and not because he gave off surplus energy?
Danny frowned and floated over to his closet to pull out T-shirt and jeans, he didn’t want to risk getting caught in his underwear again. It had been embarrassing that he’d forgotten the last time, but it was only when the guy came out dressed he’d realized. Maybe he needed to start sleeping in a shirt? Maybe it would be less awkward. - Less like waking up from a one night stand without the benefit of even having gotten laid.
That was a thought - Danny couldn’t really have someone staying overnight.
Not that he really had much game in the first place, but a small part of him had hoped maybe getting away from his parent’s infamy and his own unfortunate high school reputation might change things a bit. And while Danny wasn’t discounting the possibility that he could end up doing something ridiculously embarrassing that would make him a social pariah for the rest of his college experience, these first two days had been really nice.
Nobody could replace Sam, Tucker and Val, but he’d met some really nice people that felt like they could be good friends.
It wasn’t like Danny had had plans to start dating or end up in bed with strangers, but it was college. There were gonna be parties - that he might even get invited to! And he’d been open to the possibility, if it happened. Mutually consenting adults doing adult things because they wanted to. Danny knew and embraced the fact that he was something of a bi-disaster.
Not that that mattered right now. Nothing could happen.
Danny finally pulled the shirt on over his head and stared unseeingly at the closet door. Ghost animals wouldn’t have been a problem, they were generally shy and wouldn’t join him if he wasn’t alone. But Danny’s ghostly visitor was part human and not only that he was starving and sick.
Not only did he not want to explain to a one night stand, or worse someone he was dating, why an unfairly handsome man joined them in the middle of the night, he also didn’t know how his guest would react to Danny not being alone. The starvation might make him territorial over his food source. It also wasn’t out of the question that he would seek out Danny elsewhere in the city.
It was just a potential disaster best avoided entirely.
Danny sighed and finished dressing. Lamenting temporary restrictions on his non-existent love life didn’t help any. Breakfast and coffee however, that was something he could do.
Oo o oO
Mint and frost in his nose.
Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Not his room, not his apartment.
Memories flooded into his brain and he buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten this had happened? How had he not done research? He had crawled into some guy’s bed to sleep, been fed breakfast and sent on his merry way, and Jason had forgotten? Or well not exactly. Rather he’d been distracted and the strange events of Saturday morning hadn’t seemed important.
What was wrong with him?
Jason rubbed his forehead. Somehow it had happened again. He quelled the rising alarm. Panicking would do him no good.
There was the rustling of movement beyond the not quite closed bedroom door. Jason’s head snapped up.
For a moment he just breathed watching the door. He would be on the other side of the door. There was the scent in the air again beckoning him to follow. His head spun as he breathed in deep.
Jason should have conducted a proper background check on the guy after the first time. He had no real excuse, but he’d gone to Sunday dinner at the manor. They’d all been so surprised and happy to see him, that had been a surprise for him. He’d expected their surprise but not their happiness. He’d even managed to interact with Bruce without any scathing words. He’d scarcely been able to believe how well it went.
He’d gotten so much done since Saturday and then, what had happened last night?
He was on patrol and he’d suddenly been hit by exhaustion, like a sledgehammer. He’d had to call off relatively early. The last thing he remembered was stashing his gear and then nothing.
Mint and frost.
Would the man have called the police on him this time? First time could reasonably have been called an accident, but a second incident? Didn’t seem near as accidental.
Jason’s eyes fell on the pillow his head must have rested on just moments ago and promptly had to strangle the urge to burrow his face in it and breathe it in.
Disturbed, he jumped out of the bed. Something was up with him. Something weird.
He collected his clothing and boots, just as scattered around the room as they were last time. He couldn’t find his left sock. His shoulders wound up in tension. Just his luck.
Like last time, he considered jumping out the window, but he really should face the music, and he wouldn’t figure out anything if he ran away. Maybe this time he would be able to apologize for the intrusion.
He opened the door the rest of the way and promptly his shoulders lowered as the tension left him in a sigh at the sight of the guy in kitchen area.
Jason didn’t know what to do with the reaction. It didn’t make sense at all. Nothing about his situation had changed. And yet, it was okay now. The idea that the guy would call the police on Jason was ridiculous, because he was safe here.
The guy watched a sizzling pan intently, his black hair was an unruly nest on top of the bent over head. He was clothed today, which wasn’t something Jason should be disappointed about.
“There’s a cup of coffee on the table,” he said, without taking his eyes away from the pan.
Jason’s eyes moved to the small table they’d eaten at last time. Sure enough, a steaming black mug with white text sat there innocuously.
Okay, so they were doing this again.
Carefully he made his way to the table, looking around. There were a lot less moving boxes this time. A bookcase had been assembled next to the window on the right wall and half filled with books. He was too far away to read titles, but the size of most of them pointed toward textbooks rather than literature. There was still an open place on the floor over there suitable for a small couch.
He sat down and folded his hands around the warm mug, then immediately unfolded them as he caught a glance of the word dead. He turned the mug around.
Are you a half-dead or half-alive kind of person? The mug asked to Jason’s bemusement. It was clearly a pun on the glass half empty or full saying, but rather on the morbid side.
“Gift from my friends, they think they’re hilarious,” the guy said, and Jason looked up to find him smiling at him even as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Jason’s lips turned slightly upwards of their own accord.
“Anyways breakfast! And not even burnt,” the guy declared setting a plate down in front of Jason: A piece of buttered toast with two fried eggs sunny side up. And indeed not even burnt. If that was a concern that certainly explained his intense concentration earlier.
Guy sat down with his own plate. Just two fried eggs.
“No toast?” Jason asked before he could help himself.
“I hate toast.”
Now even more confused Jason looked at the toast on his plate. Why did he even have it then? He lived alone, far as Jason could tell.
“My sister brought it,” guy explained exasperated, “she says I should eat some bread too, for variation.”
Jason snorted, then looked down to the breadless plate, and back up with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, yeah, you laugh it up. I bet you don’t do everything your older sibling tells you to either - if you have one, that is.”
Jason did actually laugh at that. He raised his mug. “To disobeying older siblings.”
Guy’s face went from momentarily confused to a feral smile and he lifted his own mug to clink against Jason’s. “To disobeying older siblings.”
Breakfast continued mostly silent after that point as they both ate. Jason was careful not to touch the other man, he remembered the strange reaction he’d had last, but otherwise he felt good; relaxed, languid and full as if he’d eaten quite a bit more than a single piece of toast and two eggs.
Guy was leaned back in his chair head resting on top of the backrest eyes looking unseeing at the ceiling, long line of his neck on display. It was good Jason felt so sated, it made it easier to ignore the fact he kinda wanted to lick and bite his way up that throat.
It wasn’t like Jason didn’t have any libido but it was an odd thought process to have for him with someone he barely knew.
Guy’s hands were curled around his mug and he occasionally took a sip, throat bobbing with the motion. He looked as relaxed as Jason felt. After one such sip, he checked his phone and the atmosphere was broken with a “Shit! Forgot the time!”
The guy rushed around the apartment grabbing coat and keys and backpack. Jason followed him outside into the hallway as he finished tying his shoes while somehow walking. He straightened and locked his door.
“Take care of yourself,” he called after Jason as he ran down the hall.
Jason was left mildly shellshocked staring down the now empty hallway. He had managed to get through the whole encounter without any strange electrifying touches. Why did he feel so bereft?
Something was clearly up. With the guy? With Jason? He wasn’t sure, something in him rebelled at the very idea of labeling the guy as a threat, and that set him on edge.
One thing he knew for certain; he had a long overdue background check to do - and he felt full of energy to do so.
-
And so it continues, I actually wrote this months ago, but wasn't entirely happy with it, but then @ollietheotaku commented on part 1 and I was reminded and realized maybe my eyes would be fresh on it now and here we are. Never let it be said commenting on older fics doesn't work!
I also started writing part three but with Dead on MAYn starting in a week I really must focus on my fics for that!
Hope ya'll enjoyed! I don't always get around to replying to all comments but know they are appreciated and so is speculation what is gonna happen.
If you wanna subscribe you can do so at the Masterpost
#dp x dc#dead on main#a man has needs#next time on a man has needs#Danny and Jason talk#or do they#Jason is really not good at talking in Danny's presence
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
netflix, no chill | lee felix
Pairing • Felix x GN!Reader
Summary • You're watching Felix's favorite movie, but you can't pay attention with his hand in your pants. Even worse, every time you're close, he stops what he's doing to tell you trivia about the movie. Unfortunately for him, you're more invested in getting some relief.
Genre • smut, pwp
WC • 1.2k
Content • no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina, clit stimulation, fingering, edging, dry humping, piv penetration, creampie
"Oh, see that tree in the back? It actually almost fell on top of a crew member while filming," Felix says, pointing to the screen. His fingers on your clit stop while he talks, something you've been dealing with for the past 20 minutes.
You're sitting on the couch between Felix's legs, watching a movie he's obsessed with, and his hand has been in your pants since it started. But every time he explains the lore, or the differences between the book and the movie, or tells you about what happened on set, his fingers stop. You can't tell if he's doing it on purpose or by accident, but he has a lot to say, and you can barely pay attention to anything but your pulsing core.
His fingers go back to circling your clit, dipping down into your wet hole and smearing the juices over your core. Your head leans back into his shoulder as he presses into a spot that makes you twitch, rubbing it until you can barely keep your eyes open. You can feel that familiar warmth in your stomach, orgasm building as he runs his fingers through your folds.
You feel one of his digits insert into you, and a quiet moan passes between your lips. His fingers pump in and out, dragging along your walls. All you hear are the wet noises your pussy makes, the movie long forgotten in your bliss. He curls his finger, rubbing against a sensitive spot, and you can't help how your body twitches against it.
A second finger teases your entrance, and he stretches your hole as he slips it in. The fullness you feel inside is enough to take you closer to your climax.
Suddenly, you hear a loud shout from the tv, and Felix retracts his fingers from inside you.
"Ok, you see how the shield he uses is circular," he says, miming the shape with both hands, and you can see your juices coat the hand that was just inside you. "In the book it was more of like a round diamond shape." He mimes the shape again, and all you want is for him to stop and go back to what he was doing. Your impending orgasm fades away.
"Felix, please," you beg, and he suddenly remembers what he was in the middle of.
"Oh, sorry."
His hand finds its way back to your aching core, cupping it while he shoves popcorn into his mouth with the other. He strokes the flesh around your clit, sliding easily against you with how wet you are. You lean further into his chest, relaxing back into the feeling. His fingers caress your eager nub, and when you groan as he strokes a sensitive area, he rubs into it harder.
You can't help the way your body mindlessly rocks into his hand. You don't even realize you're doing it, just letting yourself chase the feeling. He notices, though, because your rocking grinds against his crotch. The more he rubs your cunt, the harder you buck against him.
His fingers finally dip back into your hole, and the sounds of your sopping wet pussy enveloping him makes his cock twitch. He thrusts into you, making you moan his name. He can't pay attention to the movie anymore, too distracted by the friction against his throbbing dick as you grind into him, lost in your own pleasure.
He curls his fingers into you, rubbing against your walls, and bucks into your ass. You clench against his fingers as he thrusts deeper into you, about to finally cum, but a loud crash interrupts you as someone on screen gets thrown into a wall.
Felix's attention is once again on the movie. His fingers are inside you, unmoving as you throb around them, and his hard cock presses into your ass.
"This is important, watch. So that guy just killed the main character's brother, and that's going to be what sets up the events of the sequel."
You can barely parse what Felix is saying, mind too clouded from being edged this long. You try to hump his fingers, body begging for any kind of relief, and he finally notices when he feels movement against his dick again.
"You're really not paying attention, huh?"
"How can I? Every time I'm about to cum, you stop to tell me trivia," you whine.
"Yeah, but it's cool trivia. Like now," he says, and the scene changes to the characters walking through a forest, "did you know this was shot near a town with a lot of Bigfoot sightings?"
He can see on your face that you're not listening, mind filled with thoughts of him fucking you until you can't move. He sighs.
"Fine, I'll help you."
He clears the space on the table in front of you, and guides you onto it, laying on your stomach. In this position, he can fuck you while still watching the movie.
He pulls down everything standing between his dick and your cunt, and he admires the view. You're bare from the waist down, lying on the table, legs rubbing together in anticipation of his cock inside you.
"You better watch the movie when I'm done."
"I will, please, please start," you beg, and a soft smile adorns his lips. You were very cute like this, bent over and desperate for him to fuck you. This was a sight he rarely got to see.
He spreads your legs open, and his throbbing shaft prods your entrance. You moan as he pushes inside, easily sliding in from how wet you are. His thrusts are slow and steady, making sure he doesn't miss important scenes of conversations you couldn't care about right now. His cock pumps in and out, filling you up completely before pulling right back out.
"Faster," you moan, and he dutifully complies.
He speeds up his thrusts, groaning every time he bottoms you out. He hits you deep enough to hit a sweet spot you can't reach by yourself, and as he bucks faster, he slams into it with more force. Felix can't hear the movie anymore, the noise drowned out with his body slapping against your cunt and moans that cry out in pleasure.
His pace is erratic, his own desire to chase his high at odds with helping you reach yours. You can feel yourself coming closer to climax with each thrust hitting deep inside you, and your walls clench around his cock as you finally cum. You moan his name, juices drenching him as he pounds into you. The pressure on his dick as you ride out your high, and the way his name sounds coming out of you, brings him to his climax. He releases himself inside you, filling you up completely. He pulls out carefully, watching you twitch from the slow pull of his dick against your walls, and collapses back on the couch. The view of your juices mixes and seeping out of your pussy, it almost makes him want to fuck you again. But then he remembers what's about to happen in the movie, and that urge subsides.
You catch your breath on the table, and you feel his hands massage your bare ass.
"In this part, they were actually going to have an extra scene where they fight this one huge monster from the book, but it had to be cut," he says, as if he hadn't just cum inside you moments before. He was going to tell you facts about his favorite movie whether you wanted to hear them or not. "That monster is actually really relevant to the plot in the third book, so I'm not sure how they're going to introduce it when they make that movie."
You lift yourself off from the table, and move to sit back between Felix's thighs. He wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his head into your shoulder.
There's no way you were going to be able to follow the plot.
#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader smut#stray kids smut#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#lee felix#felix smut#felix x reader#felix x reader smut
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mav and Bradley reconcile and he finds out (it's not really a surprise tho) that Mav and Ice got married, so he apologizes for not being there for them at their wedding.
Mav blinks at him all confused because while he's feeling something at Bradley being so remorseful — looking like a kicked puppy, really — about missing a big moment of their life but also because, "Oh, no, buddy, we didn't have a wedding."
And the thing is, they got married when Ice's health took a turn for the worse, and it was allowed and legal and would, in Ice's opinion, make a lot of things easier for Mav in case he died — even just from an inheritance point, or just so the Navy doesn't forbid him from being part of the state funeral. It was a very quick sign the papers, get someone to officiate it in the hospital, and then get their lawyer to adjust the paperwork in the express time kind of marriage.
Things got better and life went on and they just, well, forgot to have a real wedding. And they were fine with it. They didn't need a wedding, in fact now that Bradley was back in their life, they couldn't be happier.
But in Bradley's head, an idea is born. Mav and Ice will have their 30th anniversary in a few months (more like almost 10...) and it's the perfect time to get them to have a wedding. You know, as a gift from him for missing all those years from their life.
The problem is, it very quickly turns out that Bradley is shitty at planning weddings. He doesn't know where to start and what needs to be organized and how to organize it in a way that lets it stays a surprise.
But you know who is good at it? Jake Seresin, brother of four sisters, planner of four weddings.
And how does Bradley know that? Well. He might or might not have been Jake's plus one to all four of those weddings.
#this sounds like a plot to a rom com#please do not look too deep into the logistics of this#hangster#icemav#tgm
362 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
cartoondaydreamer
Untitled
kresnikxkaden
Kaden Valentine
ussramsses-hernandez
Sylture
nothing-color-partner
Untitled